I fluttered my eyes open and drank in the sight of the palace walls, draped in silk so fine it whispered against itself, studded with diamonds rarer than the stars. Every glimmer, every thread had been gifted to me by him—the king of Aseríva, my husband, my tormentor, my captor of both heart and mind.
A scoff escaped me as I closed my eyes again, letting the weight of the opulence press in. The grandeur that should have awed me felt suffocating instead. I drew a deep, deliberate breath, tasting the cool air heavy with incense and secrets.
'I hate them all' I thought, letting the truth settle like ice in my chest. The walls, the riches, the courtiers who bowed too often and whispered too little—they were nothing but gilded chains. And yet… even as I despised it, even as I despised him, a part of me could not deny the thrill of being trapped in a kingdom that existed entirely at his whim.
As much as I despised him, he could get that job done, for a king? He had more than potential I had to give him that. But oh....he was definitely an exciting individual, a smile crept to my face. He's past. I giggled.
'what a disgusting man' I thought. If I were to be honest with myself, I liked my men with a bit of a twist and he was exactly what I wanted. At least he's an ideal type of mine. But my problem was that it was him.
Kharun Zerqert Zar, King of Aseríva.
Aseríva—the land of black men, where the sun bowed low in reverence and the earth remembered the footsteps of gods.
It was a realm carved by fire and blood, where iron was born screaming from the womb of the mountains and kings were crowned only after the soil had tasted their sacrifice. The rivers of Aseríva ran dark and slow, heavy with memory, whispering the names of warriors long buried beneath their banks.
Kharun Zerqert Zar was not merely a ruler—he was the spine of the nation. His word weighed heavier than gold, his silence more feared than war. They said his gaze could unmake liars and that the spirits of the ancestors stood at his shoulders, unseen but ever-watchful. No crown rested easily upon his head; it was forged from conquest, sealed by oath, and sharpened by betrayal.
A slow smile crept across my face as I thought of him. He stirred something in me that no one else could; he puzzled me, teased me, and ignited a curiosity I could not tame. His past… oh, his past was a story that would turn any head, and mine was no exception. As much as I despised him for who he was, I could not deny it: our marriage would be anything but dull.
A soft giggle escaped me at that thought. People whispered many things about him, but devout, religious, he was not. He did everything but follow the tenets of his own faith.
And, truth be told, I did not care for the religion of Zhentek at all. It existed beneath my notice, a dull echo of rules and rituals that held no sway over me.I scoffed again at my own thoughts, unsure whether to be amused or bemused—for our marriage was, by all accounts, complicated.
'I needn't waste my breath thinking about the unnecessary' I thought
I didn't care about him or the despicable monsters I just birthed and don't get me started on the Zhentek Empire. But they'd all be a stepping stone for me, after all, I was the queen that was promised. My word carries weight heavier than any crown, and no man—least of all the king—dares question it.
Knock… knock…
A sharp rap echoed at my door.
"Your grace, may I come in?" came the familiar voice of my senior lady-in-waiting. I could hear the shuffle of many footsteps beyond the door—too many, as if the entire court had decided to assemble at once.
"Come in," I said, my voice calm but edged with steel.
Maleka entered, as radiant as ever. She was one of the few I truly liked to be around—her golden skin seemed to glow even in the dim candlelight, her blue eyes sparkled with relentless energy, and her black hair shone like polished obsidian. A mischievous thought crossed my mind, and I bit my lower lip, savoring the fleeting warmth it brought.
But my thoughts were cut short.
"My sovereign, you have given birth to such beautiful children, your grace! You have been blessed by the gods!" Maleka exclaimed, her excitement spilling over like wildfire. I laughed—a sharp, unrestrained sound that filled the room. She was as exhausting as she was earnest.
I could hardly bring myself to care what these monsters I had birthed looked like, but I would see them, if only to mold them into what I desired.
"Congratulations, your grace, your babies are exquisite!" the other ladies-in-waiting chorused, their voices sweet and hollow. I could see through their performance, and I had no patience for pretense today.
"Well, thank you," I said, my tone sharp enough to cut glass. "Why are you all here?"
Their silence answered me before they could speak.
"Your grace," Maleka said cautiously, "you have been bedridden for two days in a coma. His Majesty personally sent us to freshen you up… prepare you for the munera and the feast this evening." She hesitated, a flicker of pride and fear mingling in her expression. "It is to celebrate the birth of the He's Children, the Four Moons of Zhentek."
The words struck me. A gladiatorial event. Men fighting to the death to impress the king. I could feel a dark thrill stir deep within me. Interesting.
"I wish to see my children. Now," I said, every syllable a command that brooked no refusal.
"Your grace, you cannot," a young, trembling lady-in-waiting interjected. "In our culture… you may only see them after they are baptized and wrapped in gold linen—"
She faltered as she met my gaze, and I could see the sudden realization flicker across her face. She knew, instinctively, that she had stepped into dangerous territory.
Frantically, she looked around, eyes wide with panic, and collapsed to her knees.
"Your grace, please—"
"Guards!" I commanded, my voice cold, precise, slicing through the air. "Seize her."
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and her pleas turned into wails, but I did not care. Finally, there would be some entertainment today—if only for the audacity of her mouth.
"I am the princess of Rivasha," I said, my voice low and measured, a predatory smile curling at my lips. "Only daughter of King Ethbaal and the Queen of Aseríva. What I say is law. And today… you will learn that by every means."
I rose from my luxurious bed, letting the silks fall away with a whisper, each step deliberate, echoing my power. My gaze swept the room, sharp and cold, as if carving my authority into every trembling soul present.
"Prepare my bath, Maleka," I said over my shoulder, my back to the others, every word dripping with quiet command. "I have a munera to attend."