I hesitated for a moment before glancing back at him, pretending I wasn't sure if I had heard my name. My heart sank the moment I saw him—Marcus. His presence had always unnerved me, though I could never quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was the way his dark eyes followed me, filled with suspicion, as if he were constantly waiting for me to slip, to reveal some hidden truth about myself.
He never left me alone, not for long. It was as though he made it his mission to unravel the mystery he believed I was hiding. And maybe I was—after all, I had secrets, ones that could cost me my life. But his relentless attention made it all the harder to conceal who I truly was. His gaze seemed to bore into me as if trying to peel back the layers of my disguise.
I despised him for it.
I tried to hide the emotions boiling beneath the surface, but it was impossible to mask the frustration, the discomfort, and yes, the simmering hatred I felt. It must have shown on my face because when I met his eyes, I could see that Marcus knew I wasn't comfortable around him. He always knew. Yet, he never seemed to care. He didn't even bother to ask why I hadn't responded immediately when he called my name, as if he already expected my defiance.
Instead, he did what he always did—questioned every move I made, every step I took, like a guard dog sniffing out a threat.
"Where are you coming from?" he asked, his voice clipped and demanding.
I could feel my temper flaring, anger bubbling to the surface like molten lava threatening to erupt. My fists clenched involuntarily at my sides, and I had to remind myself—*to calm down*. If I wasn't in this place, if I wasn't bound by my mission, Marcus would have already seen me for who I truly was. He'd regret ever crossing my path. But I couldn't afford that. I had a kingdom to save, a promise to keep, and losing control wasn't an option. No matter how badly I wanted to lash out at him.
I exhaled sharply, trying to release the tension in my chest. I needed to stay calm. "From the Court Mistress's chamber," I finally replied, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. "She summoned me."
He raised an eyebrow, his suspicion palpable in the thick silence that followed. I could see the gears turning in his mind, evaluating my answer, picking it apart as if he expected to find a lie hidden within. His gaze lingered on me a moment longer, eyes narrowing as if he were considering whether to press further.
I stood still, forcing myself to meet his gaze, unflinching. *Don't show weakness.* I had learned that early on. Marcus was like a wolf—any hint of vulnerability, and he would seize on it, never letting go.
After what felt like an eternity, he seemed to accept my answer, though not without reluctance. His eyes flickered to the corridor behind me, confirming for himself that I had indeed come from the direction of the Court Mistress's chambers.
"The king has ordered that you begin tonight," he said abruptly, his tone authoritative. "You will join the procession bringing his dinner."
I blinked. "Join the procession?" I echoed, caught off guard. His words sounded almost foreign to my ears, as though I hadn't fully processed them.
"Yes, join the procession," he repeated, this time more forcefully, his voice rising slightly as if challenging me to object. "You're expected to serve the king tonight."
I bit back a retort. I wasn't expecting to be thrust into the king's presence so soon, especially not after everything the Court Mistress had told me. The thought of facing the king in his current condition unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. But I couldn't let Marcus see that. I nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir."
Satisfied with my response, Marcus turned as if to leave but hesitated, casting one last glance over his shoulder. "And don't be late," he added, his voice cold and final, as though lateness would be yet another reason for him to scrutinize me.
I nodded again, my lips pressed into a thin line. "I won't," I said, my voice firm.
Marcus lingered for a second longer as if debating whether to say more, but finally, he turned on his heel and strode off, his boots echoing down the corridor. I watched him go, feeling the tension slowly drain from my body with each step he took away from me.
When he disappeared from sight, I allowed myself a deep, shuddering breath. The confrontation had rattled me more than I'd like to admit. Marcus was becoming a problem—his constant suspicion, his sharp gaze that seemed to always be watching, waiting for me to slip. I needed to be careful around him. One wrong move, and he would use it against me without hesitation.
But for now, I had to prepare myself for the night ahead. The king awaited, and I couldn't afford to falter—not in front of him, and certainly not in front of Marcus.
Adjusting my cloak, I steeled myself. This was just another challenge, another obstacle in the path to fulfilling my purpose. One that I would have to face with every bit of strength and resolve I had left.
I walked straight to my room, my feet dragging beneath me as exhaustion clung to every step. The moment I pushed the door open, I collapsed onto the bed, sinking into the soft sheets with a sigh. My body ached from the tension of the day, but even as I closed my eyes, sleep refused to come. My mind was still a battlefield, flooded with relentless, haunting thoughts.
*The queen… the Watcher… and Valen…*
The puzzle pieces I had been gathering, bit by bit, were beginning to fit together, but they painted a picture darker than I could have imagined. I whispered my questions into the empty room, as if speaking them aloud might somehow make them less terrifying, but only silence answered.
*What are they truly after?*
It wasn't just black magic or a lust for power; it was something far more insidious. And while I wasn't sure of everything yet, one thing kept gnawing at my mind: *King Valen was in more danger than even he knew*. The Watcher and the Queen—they were working together. And it wasn't just about controlling the kingdom. No, I could feel it. They were targeting Valen himself. He wasn't their son, and because of that, there was nothing they wouldn't do. Nothing was sacred to them, not even him.
I stared up at the ceiling, dread creeping into every corner of my thoughts. I had sensed it before, but now it was starting to solidify: *King Renfell's death might not have been caused by Mal'karath alone.* No… the darkness wasn't the only threat. There were other forces at play, hidden just beneath the surface, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt the Watcher's hand in it all. His quiet, calculated moves, the queen's dark ambition—it was as if they were weaving a web around Valen, and the deeper he fell into the darkness, the stronger their grip became.
The court mistress had said that Valen needed someone to remind him of who he truly was. But what if they never gave him the chance to remember? What if their plan was to erase him entirely, to shape him into something else—someone they could control?
I sat up in bed, the storm in my thoughts swirling faster. There were too many unanswered questions, too many pieces that didn't quite fit. I needed to know more, to uncover what the queen and the Watcher were truly planning. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that time was slipping away. Every moment that passed was one more step Valen took toward whatever dark fate they had in store for him.
*But how could I stop it?*
I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling up inside me. I had come this far—I couldn't back down now. My mission wasn't just about saving the kingdom anymore; it was about saving Valen from whatever force was slowly consuming him. I wasn't sure what the queen's ultimate goal was, but I knew I had to find out. And soon.
But as the weight of it all pressed down on me, exhaustion finally took over. My body gave in, sinking deeper into the bed as my mind began to blur, slipping between wakefulness and sleep. I fought to stay awake, to keep thinking, but it was no use. My eyes fluttered shut, and slowly, I drifted into unconsciousness.
It felt like only moments had passed when a sudden, desperate banging at my door jolted me awake.
"Mara! Mara!"
The voice, frantic and sharp, pierced through the haze of sleep, yanking me out of my brief respite. My heart leaped into my throat as I shot up in bed, my body still heavy with drowsiness. The pounding on the door came again, even more insistent this time.
"Mara!"
I wanted to shout back, annoyed at whoever was disturbing me. But as my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I glanced out of the window, I froze.
It was already night.
My blood ran cold, and the realization hit me with full force.
*The king!*
I scrambled out of bed, my heart racing as the voice outside continued to call my name, urgency dripping from every word. I had forgotten—I was supposed to begin my duties tonight. And now, the king was waiting.