Final Decision
1314 Words
Not one consort, not one concubine, dared to speak. Fear clung to them like seaweed, choking and suffocating.
The true culprit, somewhere among them, must surely have been near collapse, though their face remained hidden among the crowd.
The Sea King’s patience thinned. His eyes glinted with something dangerous. “Very well. If none of you will speak, then I will send the guards. Every chamber will be searched. Every servant questioned. If I must drag the truth out myself, none of you will escape suspicion.”
A shudder ran through the women, dread painted across their faces.
Ysabel’s stomach twisted. If I say what I know from the story—that Loira ordered this—he’ll think I orchestrated it, too. I can’t make myself the enemy.
Before she could decide how to phrase her next words, a weak, raspy voice cut through the tension.
“Wait…”
All heads snapped toward the bed.
Consort Mabella, pale but conscious, forced her lips to move. Her maid bent close, supporting her as she whispered hoarsely:
“A maid… from Consort Loira’s quarters… brought me the sandwich. She said… it was a gift.”
The chamber froze.
Loira’s painted smile cracked, her complexion turning ashen.
The Sea God’s gaze swung toward her, sharp as a trident. His eyes narrowed, deep and merciless.
“Consort Loira.”
Consort Loira fell to her knees with a crash,
tears streamed down her painted face as she wailed, clutching the hem of her own gown.
“Why, Consort Mabella? Why would you frame me so? I have never wished you harm! I treat you as my own sister… Why do you want me dead?”
Her words rang shrill and desperate, but Mabella, still weak and pale on her couch, flinched back with trembling hands.
“Your Majesty… please grant me justice… This is a terrible accusation” She beat on her own chest, her red becoming red.
“I— you did send it, Consort Loira” Mabella’s lips parted, but her voice was too faint to answer.
Loira pressed her forehead to the floor, sobbing louder. “I swear upon the sea itself, I know nothing of this! Your Majesty, I beg you, believe me! I would never dare—”
The Sea King rose slightly from his throne. His gaze was like a crushing weight, his aura filling the chamber with suffocating pressure. “Enough.”
Loira’s pleas died in her throat, her face contorting with terror as she shook her head. “No—please—”
But before his judgement could fall, the chamber doors burst open.
A maid stumbled inside, collapsing onto her knees with such force her forehead struck the ground. She wept bitterly, her voice breaking as she cried, “Mercy, Your Majesty! It was me! I poisoned the sandwiches! My lady —Consort Loira—she knew nothing of it!”
Gasps spread among the gathered consorts like ripples across a pond. Loira lifted her tear-streaked face in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
The Sea King’s gaze sharpened. “You dare speak so freely? Then tell me—why?”
The trembling maid clutched at her skirts, tears soaking the fabric. “It was Lady Mabella… days ago, she struck me—mocked me before the others. I could not endure the humiliation. I wanted… only a taste of revenge.”
The chamber fell into stunned silence. Even the consorts who hated Mabella paled at her words.
The Sea King descended a single step from his throne. His shadow fell long across the floor as his voice lowered, calm as the ocean before a storm.
“Revenge?” You dare say revenge…?
The maid shivered violently, pressing her forehead harder against the stone. “Please, Your Majesty… spare me—”
His hand lifted, fingers curling in a sharp twist.
The air itself seemed to tighten. A gurgling sound broke from the maid’s throat as invisible tendrils of water coiled around her neck, choking the life from her. She clawed at her own skin, eyes bulging, her body convulsing helplessly.
Then, with a final flick of his wrist, a sickening crack resounded through the chamber. The maid’s body slumped lifeless to the floor.
A chorus of horrified gasps escaped the consorts. Several averted their eyes; others trembled so violently they could not rise from their seats. Even Loira clutched her chest, her sobs silenced into stunned terror.
The stench of fear filled the room, heavy and suffocating.
The Sea King’s gaze swept over them all, cold and merciless, before finally settling once more on Ysabel.
Ysabel’s breath caught in her throat as the maid’s body hit the floor with a dull, sickening sound.
The scent of salt and blood mingled in the air; silence stretched across the chamber like a blade.
Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs.
That could have been her.
If she hadn’t trusted her instinct, if she hadn’t tried to prove her innocence, she would be the one lying lifeless on the marble floor.
Her palms felt clammy, and her knees trembled beneath her silk skirt. The Sea King’s power still lingered in the air—dark, suffocating, a reminder of how easily he could end anyone with just a flick of his hand.
The maid was innocent, she thought bitterly, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from showing it. But she had to die, because Loira needed someone to take the blame.
Her heart twisted painfully. The weight of her own novel’s cruelty pressed down on her chest. She had written this scene herself—every line, every death, every merciless decision—and now she was standing inside it. Watching it unfold.
Only now did she realize how terrifying her imagination truly was.
“Consort Amara.”
The deep, commanding voice of the Sea King dragged her from her thoughts. His cold eyes were fixed on her—sharp as a blade yet unreadable.
“You’ve shown rare knowledge in the art of medicine,” he said slowly, as if tasting each word. “Tell me, when did you learn it?”
The question froze her.
Dozens of eyes turned toward her—Consorts, concubines, even the trembling maids. Suspicion, envy, disbelief. All of it weighed on her like chains.
Ysabel swallowed hard, her mind racing. Think, Ysabel. Think!
She forced a shy, nervous smile. “Your Majesty… before I entered the harem, I secretly learned a little of it at home. My father disapproved of such studies for women, so I had to do it in secret. Since joining the palace, I only continued to learn what I could… in my spare time.”
The Sea King tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing—not in anger, but thought. Her voice was trembling, yet there was an earnestness to it that even he could not deny.
At last, he nodded. “Then perhaps the others could learn something from you.”
The words fell like a thunderclap. Gasps filled the chamber.
“Instead of wasting your days scheming,” his voice deepened, a ripple of cold fury beneath it, “you will all take this as an example.”
His piercing eyes shifted toward the rest of the gathered women, and every single one of them lowered her head in terrified silence.
“Consort Amara shall be rewarded,” he continued, leaning back against his throne of coral and obsidian. “Ten bolts of silk and one thousand taels of silver. See that it is delivered by sunrise.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ysabel could feel the daggers of envy piercing her back, but she dared not look up. Her heart was still hammering wildly, and her hands were clenched tight against her dress to stop them from shaking.
Rewarded… for surviving my own plot.
- Writer
