Chapter 7
Aliya lay awake in the room, her thoughts swirling.
After the tension-filled night with Arthur's stern warning, she couldn't shake
the feeling of unease that clung to her. He had left her in the room alone,
requesting a separate one for the night. She stared at the ceiling, wondering
how long she could play this part—the obedient, silent maid. Arthur had made it
clear that she was not to stray from her role, yet she couldn't help but feel
the tug of her own desires for something more, something beyond his control.
The soft light of morning crept in through the
curtains, and Aliya blinked awake, her body stiff from the night's
uncomfortable position. A maid entered the room shortly after, helping her get
dressed in a gown fit for royalty. Her reflection in the mirror showed a girl
trapped in a world she did not belong to.
After breakfast, the castle felt stifling. The air
was thick with expectations, and Aliya longed for a moment to breathe. She
asked a servant about Arthur's whereabouts and was told he had gone out with
the King and Prince. The news settled uneasily in her stomach—he was leaving
her to her own devices in a strange place. She seized the opportunity to escape
the castle's looming walls.
"Could I walk through the garden?" Aliya asked, her
voice a little hesitant.
The servant nodded, clearly pleased to have a simple
task to carry out. "Of course, My Lady."
The moment Aliya stepped outside, she felt an
immediate sense of relief. Her eyes drank in the beauty of the garden—a perfect
tapestry of flowers in bloom, their colors rich and intoxicating. Flowers were
something her mother had always cultivated, and the sight brought a soft smile
to Aliya's lips. It was a fleeting reminder of her past life, before all of
this.
As she wandered further into the garden, lost in the
scents and sights, a voice broke through her reverie.
"Quite the beautiful garden, isn't it?"
Aliya turned to find Prince Artemis standing behind
her, his smile gentle yet knowing. He looked as if he'd been watching her for a
while, and Aliya felt a strange, unsettling flutter in her chest.
"I've always had a love for flowers," Artemis
continued, moving closer, his gaze locked on her. "I understand your fondness
for them, especially given their significance. I never imagined you'd be this…
graceful."
Aliya hesitated, the reminder of Arthur's warning
rushing back. She forced a smile. "Yes, they remind me of home."
Artemis tilted his head, his dark eyes studying her.
"I left my father and Arthur to wander the gardens for a while. I suppose
you're used to the palace by now?"
"I… I suppose so," Aliya responded, uncomfortable.
She took a step back, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. Despite the beauty
of the garden, she couldn't help but feel trapped—trapped between Arthur's
commands and the dangerous allure of Artemis.
"I should return," she said, her voice polite but
firm. "Thank you for the conversation, Your Highness."
Artemis' smile faded slightly, but he nodded. "Of
course, My Lady. I wouldn't want to keep you from your duties."
Aliya didn't look back as she made her way back to
her room. The moment she stepped inside, she let out a shaky breath. She wasn't
sure why Artemis had such an effect on her, but it was dangerous, and she
couldn't afford to indulge it.
Moments later, Arthur appeared at the door. He stood
there silently, studying her with an unreadable expression. He didn't speak a
word as he gazed at her, his eyes dark and calculating. Then, without a word,
he turned and left.
The evening came quickly, and the castle gathered
for dinner. The King, ever the gracious host, smiled at Arthur, his eyes
gleaming with something that felt like anticipation. "Arthur, it is not lost on
me that you've reached an age where you should consider the future of your
kingdom. Perhaps it's time you took a wife, someone to continue the legacy.
Aliya, I believe, would make a perfect match for you."
Arthur's eyes flashed with something unreadable. He
didn't respond right away, his jaw tightening, but the weight of the King's
words hung in the air like a heavy cloud.
"I know the traditions of Morvathar," Arthur said,
his voice steady but cold. "But as King, I will decide what is best for my
kingdom. And I have no interest in taking part in this tradition any longer."
The King raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. It
was then that Artemis, ever the provocateur, leaned back in his chair with a
smirk. "Or perhaps she could be my wife."
The comment was playful, yet the tension in the air
was palpable. Arthur didn't respond, but Aliya could feel his gaze upon her,
heavy with meaning. The weight of what had just been said sank into her chest.
After dinner, they retired to their rooms. Arthur
didn't waste any time in summoning her. She entered his room, finding him
standing in front of the window, his back to her. Without turning around, he
spoke, his voice low, dangerous.
"Do you think I'll choose you as my wife, Aliya?"
Arthur asked, his words sharp and cold. "Your only role here is to please me.
And that, you will do."
Aliya's heart raced as he walked toward her, his
presence suffocating. He stood behind her, his breath hot against her neck. His
hands reached around her, caressing her breasts as his lips brushed against her
skin, sending shivers down her spine.
"You are mine," he whispered in her ear, the words
possessive and commanding.
But then, something caught his eye. His fingers
brushed the mark on her neck, and his breath caught. "How did you get this
mark?" he asked, his tone shifting from possessive to something darker, more
dangerous.
Aliya froze, her pulse quickening. She hadn't
expected him to notice. She didn't know how to answer. He just stood there staring
at her fear written all over his face like he had seen a ghost from his past.