Most members of the royal family had a Bedni that they favored. Among these, the King's mistress stood out as one of the most privileged. She was an Omega, the only one the King dallied with inside the castle walls. Unlike the others, she was openly addressed by her given name, a privilege reserved for her alone. Most significantly, she was chosen to carry the King's bastard child.
It was an open secret that, were it not for her lower status, she might have usurped the Queen's position. But that is the open truth no one would speak and why the Bedni court was terrifying.
Everybody had their eyes on the Crown Prince. The next King of Onalith. Who wouldn't want to be like Lady Amara, the King's favorite Bedni?
Well, there was a close contender. Omega Bedelia.
The Bedni who has been rejected by Kylian returned to hide her shame in her quarters, only to be halted by a delicate foot clad in an embroidered slipper. The Bedni's eyes widened as she traced the intricate purple patterns up to the face of her intruder. Recognition dawned, followed swiftly by fear.
A resounding crack echoed through the chamber as Bedelia's palm connected with the Bedni's cheek. The force sent the girl stumbling backwards, her vision blurring from the impact.
Bedelia glided into the room, her elaborate gown rustling softly. With a flick of her wrist, she engaged the lock, the sound of the mechanism sliding into place like a death knell in the sudden silence.
"I've heard whispers," Bedelia's voice was silk over steel. Her eyes, cold and calculating, bore into the cowering Bedni. "Whispers that you sought to pleasure the Crown Prince tonight. Is there truth to these murmurings?"
The Bedni's hand trembled as she touched her stinging cheek. Words formed and died on her lips as she took in Bedelia's imperious stance – the slight tilt of her chin, the set of her shoulders draped in shimmering purple fabric that spoke of her favored status.
If it was anybody else, the Bedni would have bragged and lied about an event that didn't happen. It wasn't like the Prince was going to disprove a rumor he didn't hear.
But this was Bedelia. The Omega quickly rising in ranks. Because how favored by the Prince she was, Bedelia wore a different shade of purple robes. Her dresses were more elaborate and she has a small group of caretakers. The guards had become more chummy to her, hoping to one day find favor in her eyes for the day she would eventually climb up the rank of unofficial King consort like Lady Amara.
"N-no," the Bedni finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Of course not."
Bedelia moved with feline grace, closing the distance between them in two swift strides. Her arm arced through the air, and another crack resounded as she delivered a second stinging slap.
"Lying won't serve you here," Bedelia hissed, her face inches from the Bedni's. "Try again, you pathetic whore."
The Bedni's legs gave way, and she sank to the floor, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. "I swear," she whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. "I didn't. I wouldn't dare."
Bedelia loomed over her, a predator savoring the fear of her prey. The intricate embroidery of her gown glinted in the dim light, a reminder of the vast gulf in status between them – and the dangerous consequences of crossing those unspoken lines.
"Your guard sold you out, actually," Bedelia's voice dripped with cold amusement. She eyed the girl with contempt. "The bastard said you sucked him off to get information about what the Prince wanted."
The girl trembled, her eyes wide with fear. "That part is true, Bedelia—"
She didn't get to finish. Bedelia's hand shot out, grabbing the girl by the head and slamming her into the wall with a sickening thud.
"Bedelia?" The girl's voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, as she recoiled from the sudden attack.
The realization of her outburst seemed to wash over Bedelia, her expression shifting. She quickly dropped the girl and fell to her knees, her forehead nearly touching the floor. "Lady... I'm sorry... Lady Bedelia. I didn't mean to upset you, but it's true. I didn't sleep with the Prince. He didn't want me."
Bedelia's eyes narrowed, calculating. She stood slowly, the air around her thick with menace. Her fingers tapped lightly on her chin as she considered the girl's words. "It seems you're telling the truth," she finally said, her tone almost casual. "I doubt you'd be back this early, or walking straight, if Kylian had put his fingers on you."
A cruel chuckle escaped her lips as she crouched down, meeting the girl's gaze. The intensity in Bedelia's eyes was unhinged, a flicker of madness just beneath the surface. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against the girl's cheek.
"Let that be a lesson," Bedelia hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "Stay in your place, low-class tramp."
The girl's lips tightened, biting back the retort that burned on her tongue. She knew better than to speak it, though the words gnawed at her insides. They were both Omegas, both at the mercy of others, but Bedelia wielded her privilege like a weapon.
Some were more equal than others, after all.
Bedelia's smile shifted into something far darker, her eyes gleaming with cold intent. "But I suppose words aren't enough to teach you a lesson," she said softly, her voice lilting like she was discussing something trivial.
The girl's breath hitched, sensing the shift. "Lady Bedelia, please..." she stammered, her back pressing against the wall as if she could melt into it, escape somehow.
But Bedelia ignored her pleas, slowly reaching into the folds of her dress. Her fingers wrapped around something hidden within the fabric, and when she pulled it free, a gleaming blade appeared, small but sharp, the kind meant for precision.
The girl's eyes widened in terror as the reality set in. "No... no, please—"
Bedelia stepped forward, her movements deliberate, every inch of her body radiating control. "You overstepped," she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. "And now, I have to remind you of your place."
Before the girl could react, Bedelia grabbed her by the hair, jerking her head back with a force that made the girl yelp in pain. The cold blade pressed against her cheek, its edge biting into her skin just enough to draw blood.
"Beauty has its privileges, doesn't it?" Bedelia whispered, her lips so close to the girl's ear that her breath felt like poison. "Let's see what happens when you lose that."
In a swift, merciless motion, the blade slashed across the girl's face. Blood welled instantly, trickling down her cheek like tears. The girl screamed, the sound raw and filled with terror as she clutched her face, her fingers coming away slick with blood.
Bedelia stepped back, watching with a cruel satisfaction as the girl staggered. "Herbs," she said, almost conversationally, twirling the blade between her fingers. "There are some that help with scars. You'll want to find them quickly, though..." She paused, tapping the blade thoughtfully against her lips. "Not that it will make much difference. A face like yours under my blade? Ruined."
The girl gasped, her hands shaking violently as she stumbled toward the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, a jagged, angry slash cutting across her once-flawless skin. Blood smeared her fingers as they hovered over the wound, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
"No," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "No, no, no!"
She screamed, the sound ripping through the room as she stared at the ruin of her face. The girl's body shook with the force of her sobs, her eyes wide with horror.
Bedelia watched with an amused smile, her head tilted to the side as though admiring her handiwork. She stepped closer, crouching to meet the girl's tear-filled gaze. "Let that be a lesson," she said coldly. "You're nothing more than a low-class Omega. Know your place, or I'll make sure the next scar runs even deeper. If you aren't demoted from being a Bedni by that time."
The Bedni's body quivered, her teeth sinking into her lower lip until a bead of crimson formed. The metallic taste of blood seemed to ignite something within her, and suddenly words burst forth:
"He would have taken me, you know!" Her voice cracked, raw with emotion.
Bedelia froze mid-step, her shoulders tensing visibly beneath the ornate fabric of her gown. She pivoted slowly, eyes narrowing. "What... did you just say?"
The Bedni straightened, a newfound fire blazing in her eyes. "I said he would have fucked me, Bedelia!" The crude words rang out, echoing off the stone walls. "But he couldn't. His manhood was... unresponsive."
A peal of laughter erupted from Bedelia, cold and cutting. "Of course he was unresponsive. It was you." Her lips curled into a sneer. "Even his body recognizes unworthy release."
With trembling legs, the Bedni rose, one hand still cradling her bleeding face. She crossed the room, each step bringing her closer to Bedelia until they stood toe to toe. The Bedni's voice dropped to a whisper, laced with an undercurrent of challenge. "I assure you, that wasn't the reason."
Bedelia's eyebrow arched, a mix of amusement and curiosity playing across her features. "Oh? Do enlighten me, then."
The Bedni's lips quirked into a small, defiant smile. She shook her head slowly, droplets of blood from her split lip staining her chin. "No," she breathed. "Find out for yourself. See how fragile that power you cling to truly is."