The Rejected Princess: Aina's Ascension

YOU CAN NOT RULE

CHAPTER ONE

The woman was already bleeding when they dragged her into the throne room.

Not from battle nor from rebellion but from her husband.

Her silk gown was torn at the shoulder and her cloth was stained with blood,

one of her sandals had fallen off somewhere along the corridor,

leaving her bare foot scraping against the marble floor as the guards dragged her forward without care.

“Please,” she said. Her voice trembled, not with weakness but with exhaustion.

“I only came to ask for justice.”

The word justice caused murmurs to surge through the court. A woman asking for justice was already a crime.

She was thrown to the ground before the throne,

her palms slamming against stone.

Her body shook, but she forced herself upright,

lifting her chin enough for everyone to see the bruise blooming along her jaw.

“My husband violated me,” she said, each word heavy.

“I am within my rights to be heard.”

Silence! One of the ministers said and leaned toward another and scoffed.

“She speaks of rights as if she were a man.”

The woman’s eyes burned.

The law..”

before she could finish her statement a slap cut across her face ,

Her head snapped to the side, the sound was sharp enough to echo against the pillars. She gasped, more in shock than pain, as blood filled her mouth.

“You dare speak of law?” the minister roared. “The law does not belong to women.”

She fell to her knees.

Above her sat the crown prince. Lord Messah’s younger brother; draped in gold and indifference.

He watched with mild interest, fingers tapping against the arm of the throne that should have been his.

Once, he might have inherited this seat, but the birth order had decided otherwise.

Messah was the first son and his words were law, so Messah ruled.

The crown prince said nothing. He never did in matters like this. Women’s suffering bored him.

The king’s voice finally heard through the hall, calm and cold.

“Your husband has already spoken,” the king said. “He claims you tempted him. That you failed in your duties as a wife.”

“I was asleep,” she whispered. “I begged him to stop.”

A guard stepped forward and yanked her up by the arm.

“Enough,” the king said, waving his hand. “A woman’s body belongs to her husband. You were not violated, you were just corrected.

“So this is justice?” she asked, tears finally falling. “Is this what your laws protect?”

The king leaned forward.

“This is what keeps order.”

The guards dragged her away as her sobs echoed through the hall. No one followed. No one protested. The court returned to its discussions as though a life had not just been shattered at their feet.

In the Kingdom of Messara, women did not receive justice but instead they were raised to be silent no matter the situation.

High above the throne room, in a chamber overlooking the city, Lord Messah stood alone with a glass of wine in his hand. Having a quick reflection on what just happened , he actually did not care.

He believes that power requires discipline, fear and control.

A servant barged in and dropped to her knees. “My lord,” she said, trembling, “the queen… the queen has given birth.”

Messah turned, expectation sharp in his eyes. “A son?”

The maid swallowed.

“No, my lord.”

The pause that followed was deadly.

“A daughter.” he whispered

The glass in Messah’s hand shattered, He did not drop it he crushed it.

Wine and blood spilled down his palm as the glass pierced into his skin, but he felt nothing. His face twisted not in grief, but in fury so raw it startled the maid.

“A girl,” he repeated

.

Useless.

He flung the broken glass across the room and it shattered against the wall.

“Get out,” he roared.

The maid scrambled to her feet and fled, sobbing.

Messah stared at his bleeding hand, then clenched it tighter, as if punishing the world itself.

A daughter could not inherit his throne. A daughter could not extend his power but she could still serve a purpose.

“Prepare the scribes,” he said to the empty room. “Send word to the Western Kingdom.”

If the child could not rule, then she would be traded.

Outside, the royal guards were ringing the bells, sounds of trumpet and flute echoed within the palace walls, the birth of a royal child was announced.

Inside, Lord Messah had already decided the girl’s fate.

And from the moment she took her first breath, she would belong not to herself but

to power.