The room was dark, cold, and silent except for the faint sound of dripping water. Zara sat on the hard, uneven floor, her wrists bound tightly behind her back. The ropes bit into her skin, but she barely noticed anymore. Her eyes flickered to the far corner of the room, where Alaric stood like a statue, arms crossed, watching her.
"Is this your idea of hospitality?" Zara said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Because I gotta say, it's lacking a lot. Maybe some bread? A pillow? A little orchestra, maybe?"
Alaric didn't flinch. His dark eyes bore into her, cold and unyielding. "You joke now, but I wonder how long your humor will last."
"I have to keep myself entertained. You're not exactly giving me much to work with, and honestly, your decorating skills are depressing."
She tilted her head toward the damp, crumbling walls. "What is this place? A dungeon for the calithea's most boring antagonists?"
Alaric's lips twitched with a shadow of a smile, but it never fully formed. "You think you're clever, don't you? hiding behind that sharp tongue, I've never known you to be like this…the people sing praises about how you're calm, gentle and kind with your words"
"I guess people do change Alaric and you don't deserve my kindness" Zara shot back. "It's called growing and surviving. Big difference. Maybe if you tried it, you wouldn't be skulking around in the dark kidnapping people most especially not the queen whom you swore your allegiance to."
"I do not swear allegiance to you" Alaric clapped
"And yet you dwell in my kingdom, relate with my people and use our resources; you're an embarrassment " she replies as she sat on the cold, damp floor.
"So, moving on…" Zara began, forcing a weak smile, "I guess this is your version of customer service? Because if it is, I'd like to file a complaint."
Alaric raised an eyebrow, his expression unamused. "What? Customer service?" He was confused at the term because it is something he's never heard before and Zara knew that.
Zara chuckles "Ignore that, I forgot you were too stupid; stupid enough to kidnap the queen and stupid enough to not understand a simple joke"
he asked, his voice a low growl. "You've either got nerves of steel or no sense of self-preservation."
"Maybe a bit of both." Zara's voice wavered, but she refused to let it break. "It's a coping mechanism. They don't teach you this kind of thing in hostage etiquette, you know."
Alaric crouched in front of Zara, his dark eyes scanning her face as though searching for cracks in her armor. Her wrists were bound tightly behind her, forcing her to sit with her shoulders pulled back. Defiant as ever, she glared at him, her breathing steady despite the storm of emotions she tried to suppress.
"You talk big for someone completely at my mercy," Alaric sneered, his voice low and rough. "There is this new thing about you, Lysandra, This fire of yours… Do you really think it'll save you here?"
She lifted her chin defiantly. "I don't think. I know."
That earned a dark chuckle from him, but his amusement quickly faded. He reached out, gripping her jaw with one hand and tilting her face upward. The roughness of his calloused fingers sent a jolt of anger and something she refused to name through her.
"You really must learn to hold your tongue," he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek as his eyes bore into hers. "It might just get you killed one day."
Zara wanted to snap back, "I will not hold my tongue, I am your QUEE—" but the words died on her lips. His gaze was too intense, too focused. The room seemed to shrink, and for a moment, the silence between them was louder than any insult she could hurl.
His grip softened slightly, his thumb lingering on her skin as if testing her resolve. His expression shifted, just a fraction, as though something inside him warred with itself. She hated the way her breath caught, hated how her own gaze softened in return; her face turned red.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. His eyes traced hers, as though seeing something he wasn't prepared to face. Zara's pulse quickened, heat rising unbidden to her cheeks.
Then she snapped.
In one swift motion, she leaned forward and spat directly into his face. The wet smack broke the moment like shattered glass.
Alaric's hand dropped immediately, his expression twisting into fury. His teeth clenched as he wiped the spit off his cheek, his jaw tightening with barely-contained rage.
"You filthy—" he growled, cutting himself off. He straightened abruptly, towering over her with a menace that made her stomach churn.
But Zara's voice was steady, "filthy? Surely I must not have to teach a man of your caliber how to speak to the queen would I?" her chin still lifted in defiance. "What's the matter? Didn't like that? You must know that I AM STILL YOUR QUEEN Alaric"
Alaric leaned closer, his face inches from hers, the dangerous softness in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "You'll regret that."
"I don't think I will devious strong warlord Alaric" she says sarcastically, almost with a smirk "infact when all this is over, I'll let it slide because I'm gracious but you mess with me and my court ever again? Alaric I swear with everything, I WILL CUT YOU" she says with crimson eyes.
Alaric tilted his head, his lips curving into a chilling smirk. "You're a fascinating woman"
"And you Alaric are just a broken wood you're compensating for your lack with all this brooding bad-boy energy, it's pathetic". She replies.
Before Zara could say anything else, the heavy wooden door creaked open. A man was dragged in by two of Alaric's guards, his royal uniform tattered and stained with blood. The man groaned, barely able to stand as he was forced to his knees.
Zara's heart sank. She recognized the insignia on his chest—one of Erythian's royal guards.
"Meet Captain Mikhail," Alaric said, gesturing to the man like he was unveiling a prize. "One of your precious king's most loyal dogs. Or, at least, he was."
"Mikhail," Zara whispered, her throat tightening.
Alaric stood and began pacing, his boots echoing against the stone floor. "Do you know how long he's been here? Days. And your dear King hasn't even noticed. He's too busy playing hero, trying to save you."
"Or," Zara shot back, "he's too busy to notice because he's trying to find me. Kind of hard to focus on anything else when your fiancée has been kidnapped by a devious and evil criminal, don't you think?"
"Devious and evil criminal that's new, I thought I was—WARLORD"
Zara rolls her teary eyes.
Alaric's smirk vanished, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. He stopped pacing and turned to her, his voice sharp. "You're so blind, Lysandra. Naïve, even. You really think Erythian cares about you? He's playing a game, and you're just a piece on his board."
Zara blinked, her heart pounding. "What are you talking about?"
Alaric crouched in front of her again, his eyes boring into hers.
"Do you really think he proposed a marriage with you because he loves you? Because he wants to save Calithea with you by his side?" He leaned closer, his breath hot against her face. "Open your eyes, woman. Erythian always has a game he's playing. And if you're not careful, he'll bite you as well."
Zara swallowed hard, her mind racing. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Alaric's voice rose, his frustration evident. "Look around you! This man—" he pointed to Mikhail, who was barely conscious, "has been missing for days, and your beloved prince hasn't even sent anyone to look for him. Why? Because he doesn't care about anyone but himself."
"That's not true," Zara said, her voice trembling. "Erythian—he's not like that."
Alaric's laugh was bitter and cold. "You're too blind to see it. But don't worry, I don't really care, you'll see it eventually"
He stood abruptly and walked over to Mikhail. The guard lifted his head weakly, his eyes meeting Zara's for a brief moment.
"Alaric, don't," Zara pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, just—don't."
Alaric ignored her. He drew a dagger from his belt, its blade glinting in the dim light. "I have no use for him anymore," he said, his tone devoid of emotion.
"Alaric, stop!" Zara screamed, struggling against her bindings. "You don't have to do this!"
But Alaric didn't stop. With one swift motion, he plunged the dagger into Mikhail's chest. The guard gasped, his body jerking before going still. Blood pooled around him, the metallic scent filling the room.
Zara froze, her breath hitching as the warm splatter of blood hit her face. Her vision blurred with tears, and her stomach churned.
"You—you monster," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Alaric turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Monster?" he repeated, his voice calm. "Perhaps. But at least I'm honest about who I am. Can your king say the same?"
Zara didn't respond. She couldn't. Her mind was spinning, her body trembling. She had never felt so helpless, so small.
Alaric knelt beside her, his voice soft but menacing. "You think I'm cruel, Lysandra, but this is the world you and your king have created. Blood, betrayal, and lies."
"Get away from me," Zara spat, her voice trembling with anger and fear.
Alaric chuckled and stood, brushing off his hands. "Suit yourself. But remember this moment. Remember who showed you the truth."
Before she could respond, the door burst open, and a figure stepped inside. Erythian. His presence was like a storm, powerful, commanding, and unyielding. His eyes immediately locked onto Zara, then shifted to the lifeless body of his guard.
"YOU BASTARD," Erythian said, with rage!
Alaric smirked, stepping back. "Welcome brother…" he laughs hysterically.