"A vow doesn't make you a partner; it only makes you bound."
As Kane approached the grand castle, its imposing towers loomed overhead like silent sentinels, a stark contrast to the chaos she had just emerged from on the battlefield. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the cobblestone courtyard, mirroring the turmoil in her heart. The scent of damp earth mixed with the distant aroma of cooking fires, reminding her of the simpler life she longed for, far away from the intricacies of court politics.
Her maid rushed to assist her, deftly helping her shed the armor of war, replacing it with elegant attire befitting a knight of her stature. Layers of rich fabric draped over her like a mantle, but it felt more like a shroud.
As Kane stepped into the king's opulent chamber, the sight of ornate tapestries depicting glorious battles and elaborate chandeliers glittering with the light of a thousand candles filled her with a sense of dread.
"Kane, you're finally here! I've been waiting!" The king's voice boomed with enthusiasm, echoing off the marble walls, but Kane felt an unsettling chill creeping down her spine.
"What brings you to summon me?" she inquired, forcing herself to remain composed as she sank into the plush chair across from him.
"I've had a thought—why don't we arrange you a harem?" The king's words sliced through the air, unexpected and jarring.
Kane's irritation bubbled beneath her calm facade. "Your Majesty, how could I possibly please your daughter while entangled with all those strangers?" Her voice, laced with annoyance, barely concealed the depth of her distaste.
"You're not here to please my daughter; they're here to please you." His tone was dismissive, brushing aside her concerns as if they were mere trifles.
"A harem could help you forget everything else and bring you pleasure! Wouldn't that be quite great?" The king interrupted, a broad grin plastered across his face, unaware of the storm brewing within Kane.
"I don't need a room full of strangers for that; I'd prefer no more than three people to share that burden." The words left her mouth, but doubt lingered in her mind.
"Three? You underestimate the necessity of alliances, Kane. Our power lies in the strength of our unions." He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with ambition.
"If I must accept this arrangement, I'd rather it be with individuals I can truly trust." A flicker of vulnerability crossed her mind—trust was a luxury she could not afford.
"Then why don't we appoint three?" The king's suggestion hung in the air, thick with implications.
Kane's heart raced at the prospect, an internal battle raging within her. Am I ready to open my heart to more than one person, especially when my heart still lingers elsewhere? She wrestled with her emotions, the idea of forming new bonds a daunting task.
"How about we settle on two for now?" she proposed, trying to regain some semblance of control over her circumstances.
"I see, you'd prefer fewer people; that way, you'd have to remember fewer names! Hahaha!" The king's laughter echoed, a stark contrast to the anxiety twisting in Kane's gut. She kept silent, her thoughts a whirlwind of conflict.
"Very well," the king relented, though Kane sensed he would not let this go easily.
"If this is the path laid before me, I will walk it with my head held high. But I must be certain of its purpose," Kane declared, her voice steady despite the uncertainty churning inside her.
"You'll have my daughter, and the most renowned woman in this kingdom, Valere d'Vire. They'll both grant your children great genes." The king's words hit her like a cold splash of water.
Children? Kane thought, her breath hitching. Were they already that far into this arrangement? The reality of the situation settled like a stone in her stomach.
Her hands rested on the ornate table, fingertips digging into the polished wood, grounding herself amidst the chaos of her thoughts. I never wanted this role, she reflected, the weight of a king's command pressing down on her.
"A king's command and a knight's heart—let's see how that plays out," Kane mused inwardly, determination flaring momentarily, but uncertainty remained, whispering doubts into her mind.
Leaving the king's study, Kane felt the weight of the conversation settle in her chest like iron. Her maid was already waiting in the corridor, eyes cast down but the tension in her posture unmistakable. Kane's gaze flickered toward her before she strode past, the sound of her boots echoing against the stone floor. The maid followed closely behind, her presence silent but charged.
"Your Highness, you have a visitor," the maid said, her voice tight. There was something unsettling in her tone, a sharp edge that Kane knew all too well.
Kane stopped, her brow furrowing as she glanced over her shoulder. The maid bowed her head, a slight dip, but enough to tell Kane that whatever awaited her was trouble.
Nothing good comes from that tone, Kane thought grimly, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead.
As she entered the throne room, the sight that greeted her made her stomach tighten. Tarsia knelt in the center, held down by a guard, her hair disheveled, tears streaking her cheeks. Kane's heart lurched—a strange mix of fury and yearning flooding her veins. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms, but she kept her face blank as she moved toward the throne.
Why is she here? Kane's thoughts raced, the anger rising within her like a tide. Hasn't she done enough?
She sat slowly, letting the weight of the throne settle beneath her, trying to bury the tumultuous emotions beneath layers of cold detachment. Her gaze sharpened as it landed on Tarsia.
"What brings you here?" Kane's voice cut through the room like ice, her tone harsh, though beneath it a tremor of something unspoken lingered. "Hadn't I told you to leave me alone?"
Tarsia looked up, her eyes wet with unshed tears, but there was no weakness in her expression, only defiance. "I didn't come here to beg for forgiveness. I came to reclaim what we lost," Tarsia choked out, tears now flowing freely down her face.
Kane's jaw tightened, and she fidgeted with the sleeve of her tunic, the small motion betraying her irritation. Why is she always like this? Kane thought bitterly. Always coming back when it's too late, always stirring emotions I wish I could bury.
"If this is love," Kane mused inwardly, her heart pounding against her ribs, it's a cruel twist of fate.
Her heart raced despite her efforts to remain composed, each glance at Tarsia dredging up a painful cocktail of emotions—anger, fear, longing. Seeing Tarsia now only reminded her of all the times she had been vulnerable, all the times she had wanted to reach out but instead recoiled.
The guards shifted awkwardly as one stepped forward. "Your Highness, our sincere apologies. She refused to leave. She shouted, 'Tell her I'm here! I'll fight anyone who tries to keep me away!'"
Kane's eyes narrowed, and she waved a hand dismissively. "Let her go."
The guard hesitated, then released his grip on Tarsia. The room was silent save for the sound of Tarsia's shallow breaths as she rose to her feet, her eyes never leaving Kane's.
When Tarsia took a step toward her, Kane's composure cracked. She stood abruptly, her voice sharp. "Stay where you are. Don't come any closer."
Tarsia froze, the hurt flashing across her face. But Kane couldn't let her see what she was feeling. Not now. Not ever.
"If you think you can come here and fix what you broke with tears and declarations, you're mistaken," Kane spat, turning away, her fingers trembling as she gripped the back of her chair. "You can't just waltz into my life and act like nothing happened."
"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Tarsia whispered, her voice wavering but determined. "I'm asking for a chance to fight for us."
Kane felt her breath hitch, but she forced herself to remain still, the storm inside her raging, threatening to break through her cold exterior. She leaned against the wall, the stone cool against her back as she closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing.
Fight for us? The thought echoed in her mind, but all she could feel was the ache of betrayal and the sharp sting of longing she despised.
"I'd rather you hate me than love me again, I've said that before," Kane muttered under her breath, her voice so low she wasn't sure Tarsia heard her. She opened her eyes and stared at Tarsia, cold and distant. At least hate feels real.
Tarsia flinched, the tears in her eyes shimmering as she tried to swallow her emotions. But Kane couldn't let her see the uncertainty gnawing at her insides. Not the way her heart threatened to betray her, not the way her thoughts swirled with the idea of what once was and what could never be.
"I don't need you to fight for anything, Tarsia," Kane finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've fought enough battles, and I don't need another one. Especially not with you."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final, as Tarsia's shoulders slumped. Kane turned away, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as she tried to regain control.
I should have been her knight, Kane thought, but now I'm just the one who's left to clean up the mess.
"Take her away," Kane commanded, her voice colder than steel, though the edges of her restraint frayed. The guards moved swiftly, grabbing Tarsia by the arms. As they began to drag her away, Tarsia fought against their grip, her voice breaking as she screamed, her desperation piercing the air.
"Please—" The word escaped Tarsia's lips, barely audible, yet it struck Kane like a blade between the ribs.
Kane clenched her fists, every muscle in her body rigid as she fought the urge to rush after her. How many times had she wished to follow? To turn back? But she stood firm, her heart pounding with a war of its own, keeping her rooted in place.
"Don't mention this to anyone," Kane ordered the guards, her voice brittle, cold—almost as if the words had to force their way through the cracks in her armor.
As the echoes of Tarsia's cries faded down the corridor, Kane's breath hitched in her throat. This is how it has to be, she told herself, but deep down, she wasn't sure she believed it. In a kingdom of thorns, I thought I'd found a rose; now I'm left with nothing but blood on my hands.