The Crimson Conqueror’s Concubine

The Stranger in Shadows

Immediately the double doors opened, the music and chatters quietened down. Khloris was assaulted by the stink of alcohol and the sight of so many people gathered in the Great hall, who all stared at her.

She had expected a number of guests, but not a crowd, and amongst the faces that perused her, was one she has come to see less of as the days went by.

Sat on the throne of gold, placed in a raised dias at the center of the hall to signify strength and power was her father the king whose expression remained passive. On his right sat his wife—her stepmother, and to his left was the celebrant who looked nothing short of enraged.

A slight nudge from Miori reminded her that she was gaping. Khloris lifted the helm of her dress and walked away with poise even though her muscles were taut and uneasiness swirled in her stomach.

Finding the nearest balcony door, she escaped to take in a breath of fresh air, knowing all too well that she would regret conceding to her grandmother’s request. And so far, the judgmental looks she’s received inside confirmed her earlier thoughts.

Inside, the music continued and the noise grew, it was like she hadn’t just walked in a second ago and disrupted their evening. She was consumed by her thoughts that she didn’t realize someone else had joined her on the balcony, not until she perceived his scent of leather, distinctively birch tar and dried clove.

“A dangerous thing for a lady in the shadows all alone,” a man spoke from somewhere in the dark.

Turning sharply, she saw him walk into her line of sight, illuminated by the faint light of the moon. He wore the clothes of a foreign dignitary, but carried himself like a knight or a seasoned soldier.

The tumbler of wine he held in hand looked out of place for someone of his stature, like he was trying too hard to fit into her father’s court of jesters and drunks.

She searched his features to make out what his intentions for approaching her might be. But she could barely make him out except for his overpowering scent and his piercing blue eyes, leaving her unable to decided whether to let her guard down or keep it up.

“I can assure you sir, I’m not alone.” She grounded out, yet he didn’t take the cue to leave and stepped even closer to where she stood.

Instinctively, Khloris stepped back but just that action created a reaction from him. The stranger tilted his head, his eyes studying her face and her dress before dropping to her fingers, observing them curiously. It was at that moment she discovered the little bit of dirt smudged underneath her nails.

On impulse, she hid her hand behind her back, earning a slow amused smile from the stranger, which for some unexplainable reason left her burning with embarrassment.

“If you would excuse me,” Khloris moved to sidestep him and take her leave, but she didn’t get far before his hand wrapped around her wrist in a strong unyielding grip, keeping her firmly in place.

“Do you have a death warrant?” She raised her voice, furiously wrenching her hands away from him.

“Certainly not,” he replied boyishly. “I apologize for seizing you like this, it’s not every time I see such striking green eyes like yours.”

The smooth charm in his voice did nothing to ease her frantic heart. If any wandering eyes had seen his hands so much as on her wrist, it could make her fragile reputation plummet even further.

Khloris moved further away from him until her back pressed against the cold stone balustrade of the balcony. He on the other hand kept the space between them and proceeded to abandon the facade of a drunken courtier by dropping the glass on the railing.

“What is your name?” He asked, back to assessing her.

“Because you flatter me, you think yourself high enough to demand my name?” She spoke, crossing her hands defensively across her midsection.

“You’ll find that your charm is cheap currency in Cordovia and will buy you nothing here.”

He chuckled at her attempt to ward him off, amusement evident in his tone as his interest piqued even more.

“I am not trying to buy anything, fair lady. If I were, I wouldn't waste my time out here in the dark.” His eyes swept over her face one last time, his demeanor shifting seamlessly from playful to intensely focused.

“I was merely curious about the lady who looked as if entering that hall was as if it were a prison.”

She let out a gasp, stunned at his attempt to hide the fact that he had been observing her.

“You don’t know me.”

“I might not, but I know that you’re as beautiful as a moonflower blooming in the moonlight,” he murmured, stepping a fraction closer.

Before she could demand to know who he was or what right he had to speak to her in such a manner, the man leaned down so their eyes could meet but she quickly looked away from the intensity. His scent of leather and subtle grape wine on his breath, enveloped her.

“When all of this over, and if fate is kind enough to let you survive tonight—”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She seethed, looking up to meet his eyes where she noticed a little distinctive scar above his eyebrow. The playful glint of his features had vanished, replaced by an urgent chilling seriousness that froze the blood in her veins.

“I’ll return for you, but you’ll have to keep yourself alive,” he continued, voice barely carrying over the distant swell of the orchestra.

“Keep your maid close, and when the sun rises, ensure you are standing in the deepest shadows you can find. The Palace of Hearts is about to bleed crimson.”

Khloris doubted she had heard him correctly.

The palace of hearts is about to bleed crimson, the same words that precedes the brutal Crimson Conqueror who seized kingdoms and consolidated power like a pastime.

It couldn’t be, he couldn’t be.

She opened her mouth to call for the guards, but the words caught in her throat.

All she could see was the back of the stranger receding into the shadows, his scent vanishing after him, and the tumbler the only sign that she truly saw him—that their conversation was real and not a figment of her imagination.