Gloria led Valeria down the grand corridors of the castle toward the drawing room, where the king's other wives awaited her. Beth had left earlier, citing other duties, leaving Valeria alone with Gloria and two guards who flanked her on either side. Although the thought of escape flickered briefly in her mind, she quickly dismissed it. The guards made any attempt impossible, and besides, Valeria was simply grateful to be outside of her room for the first time in weeks. Her heart beat rapidly, a mix of nervousness and excitement churning within her. What awaited her on the other side of those doors? Would the wives be welcoming, or would they see her as an interloper?
When they reached the doors to the drawing room, Valeria turned to Gloria, who gave her an encouraging smile and nod. Valeria felt a surge of gratitude toward the maid; Gloria had been her anchor in these dark times, a steady presence and guide. She thought of her family, especially her mother, whom she hadn't seen since the day she was forced into this marriage. Gloria had filled that void, offering comfort and advice like a mother would. I'll have to give her a big hug to thank her after this, Valeria thought.
Gloria excused herself as Valeria took a deep, steadying breath. She raised her hand and knocked lightly on the door.
"Come in," a voice from inside responded.
With one final breath, Valeria pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
Before her sat four beautiful women, each seated around a lavishly decorated table laden with pastries and tea kettles. She immediately dipped her head in a respectful bow, her court etiquette flawless despite the nervous fluttering in her chest.
"I am Valeria Elsass, the king's new wife," she said with poise. "It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I thank you for inviting me to tea."
Her words were polite, her voice steady, though she could feel the tension humming under her skin. The first to speak was the woman seated to the right. She was striking, with long, raven-black hair, skin as pale as porcelain, and lips painted a deep, blood-red shade. She exuded a dangerous air, her gaze appraising Valeria with a slow, deliberate once-over. Valeria held her head high, refusing to shrink under the woman's scrutiny.
"I am Athea, and this is my cousin Lydia," the woman announced, gesturing to the woman beside her. Lydia had light brown hair and a pleasant, though less striking beauty than the others. Like Athea, she looked Valeria up and down, her expression unreadable, giving little acknowledgment of Valeria's presence.
"We're glad to finally meet you, little girl," Athea added, her voice smooth but carrying a faintly mocking edge. Though she wore a polite smile, her words held a hint of derision. Valeria bit back a frown, already sensing that Athea was someone she would need to tread carefully around.
Valeria inclined her head respectfully once more, then turned her gaze to the third woman. She was perhaps the most stunning person Valeria had ever seen, with jet-black hair even darker than Athea's and warm, light brown skin with a subtle golden glow. This, she knew, must be Aisha, the second wife, who had come from a distant land as a gift to the king. Aisha met Valeria's gaze without a word, offering only a slight nod. Valeria returned the gesture with a soft smile, remembering what Gloria had told her about Aisha's quiet nature.
Finally, the woman in the center spoke. Her voice was gentle and welcoming, her tone the softest Valeria had heard so far.
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Valeria," she said. "I am Lara, and I apologize for not inviting you sooner. We should have reached out to you earlier."
Lara's presence exuded a regal grace. Her hair was beautifully arranged, her skin adorned with faint freckles, and her demeanor radiated respect and authority. Valeria could easily picture her as the queen of Castell. Lara's refined manner and kind smile brought back that lingering question in Valeria's mind—Why had the king not made one of these women his queen? And why, even after all these years, did he still not have an heir?
Her thoughts were interrupted as Lara continued, "Please, sit down and join us for tea. I also apologize for inviting you on such short notice."
Valeria took her seat on the couch across from the four wives, her posture composed. "That is quite alright, my lady," she replied respectfully. "I am grateful for the invitation and… for the opportunity to leave my room."
Lara's expression softened with a hint of pity, while Athea and Lydia exchanged smirks at the mention of Valeria being confined. Aisha remained impassive, observing in silence.
Lara spoke again, her voice gentle but firm. "I heard of the circumstances you've endured. The king wouldn't typically take such drastic measures, but he always has his reasons. Even if it may seem harsh, he believes there is purpose behind his actions." She offered Valeria a kind smile. "And please, there's no need for formality. You may call us by our names."
Valeria managed to keep her expression neutral, though a bitter laugh threatened to escape her. The king locked me away because he's a cruel tyrant, she thought, but she held her tongue. "Yes, of course. I'm sure he has his reasons," she said, her tone controlled.
Athea's voice cut through the air, tinged with disinterest. "So, tell us about yourself, little girl."
Valeria clenched her teeth but quickly composed herself, refusing to show her irritation. "As you may know, I am the daughter of Lord Elsass. I am twenty years old, and until recently, I had expected to inherit my father's title—until this… wonderful opportunity to marry the king arose." She couldn't help but let a trace of sarcasm slip into her words.
Lydia narrowed her eyes, a slight sneer on her lips. "I heard you're nineteen."
Valeria's polite smile didn't waver. "I turned twenty last week. I spent my birthday alone in the room the king graciously confined me to for the past three weeks."
Athea smirked, clearly enjoying the discomfort Valeria tried to mask. Lara, however, maintained her calm demeanor, gently interjecting, "As I said, the king has his reasons, and it is best not to question them."
Lara's gaze lingered on Valeria, scrutinizing her not with the dismissiveness Athea exhibited, but rather with an assessing curiosity. Valeria felt as if she were being weighed and measured, evaluated not as a rival, but as a potential ally—or perhaps, a pawn.