Odi struggled against the guards as they dragged her through the grand hall, their armored hands gripping her arms tightly, pulling her forward. She barely felt their roughness; she had endured worse. But the weight of their intent, the cruelty in their eyes, and the certainty of what awaited her made her pulse hammer in her throat.
They hauled her onto the platform at the center of the grand exhibition, throwing her to her knees. The murmurs of the nobility rose like an unsettling tide. Whispers of scorn, mockery, and even amusement flitted through the opulent hall. Some spoke with disgust, others with interest, as though she were nothing more than an evening's entertainment.
Odi wondered, the same people who praised and admired her about an hour ago are spitting on her. Life truly is all about power.
"A common thief!" a nobleman sneered. "Stealing from the King himself!"
"She should lose her hands," another voice hissed. "Let her serve as an example."
"No," a woman's voice interjected, laced with malice. "A thief bold enough to enter the lion's den should be executed."
Odi clenched her jaw, keeping her face blank. Fear was something she had abandoned long ago. She wasn't ready to die, but if this was her fate, she would meet it with her head held high.
Then the room hushed as one commanding voice cut through the chaos.
"Silence."
The deep, rich tone was unmistakable. And Odi's stomach lurched as she lifted her gaze, finding herself face-to-face with the very man she had spoken to earlier that evening. The charming, curious stranger from the secluded corner of the palace.
But he wasn't just anyone. He was King Darius.
Her breath caught as realization dawned. She had spoken to the King so freely, so casually, as if he were merely another nobleman seeking refuge from the crowd. And now, here she was, kneeling in iron chains before him.
Darius was seated on his supposed spot for the exhibition, his piercing gaze fixed on her, unreadable. He had changed since their last encounter, his posture now regal, his demeanor that of a ruler rather than a curious onlooker.
She lowered her eyes, feeling the weight of his scrutiny, but she refused to let herself cower.
"Who are you?" His voice, calm and measured, held an edge of intrigue.
Odi took a slow breath. "A thief."
The murmurs resumed, but a single glance from Darius silenced them.
"I know that much," he said, his lips curving slightly, though the expression never reached his eyes. "What I want to know is why. Why risk your life for something that does not belong to you?"
Odi lifted her chin. "Because I had to."
A wave of gasps rippled through the crowd. A mere commoner speaking to the King in such a way? Blasphemy.
Darius, however, did not appear offended. If anything, his curiosity deepened. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the ornate armrests of the throne. "Had to?"
She nodded. "I don't expect you to understand, Your Majesty."
He studied her for a moment before speaking again. "Then make me."
Odi hesitated, the chains at her wrists feeling heavier now. "My master gave me a task. I do as I am told."
Darius's expression darkened. "Your master?"
Her jaw clenched. "Yes."
Darius exhaled sharply. "So, you steal not for yourself, but for him."
Odi did not answer.
The King's lips pressed into a thin line. He sat back against his throne, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. "And what would he do if you failed?"
Odi remained silent. She didn't need to answer.
Darius turned to his council and his advisor and cousin, Heath, his voice turning cold. "And what do you suggest, Heath?"
Heath, the sole and destined sorcerer of the Kingdom, stepped forward, his eyes glinting with malice. "Cut off her hands. Let her return to her master broken, useless."
One of the top noble men scoffed. "No, Your Majesty. She is far too bold to be left alive. Execute her, and let the streets know what happens to those who dare challenge the King."
Odi remained still, her gaze steady. She would not beg, would not plead. She had learned long ago that mercy was not meant for people like her.
Darius listened, unmoving. Then, without a word, he stood.
The hall fell into silence.
He descended the stairs, his presence commanding, his boots echoing against the marble floor. He stopped just in front of Odi, looking down at her.
"Tell me," he said, his voice lower now, meant only for her. "How did you manage to bypass my security?"
Odi smirked despite herself. "Your best guards aren't as sharp as you think."
Darius chuckled softly. "So it would seem."
A pause stretched between them before he exhaled through his nose. Then, to the shock of everyone in the hall, he turned away from her and spoke to the guards.
"Release her."
The collective gasp from the nobles was deafening. His advisors lurched forward in protest.
"Your Majesty, you cannot…"
Darius silenced them with a single look. "I can, and I will." He turned back to Odi. "You may leave. But rest assured, I will need something in return for this mercy."
Odi blinked. This had to be a trick. There was no way she was simply being let go. And yet, the guards hesitated before ultimately unlocking her shackles. The cold metal fell away from her wrists, and she slowly stood, rubbing the sore skin.
Darius leaned in slightly, his voice quiet enough for only her to hear. "You intrigue me. And I am not a man who ignores such things."
She swallowed hard, stepping back. Her instincts told her to run, but her legs felt like lead. Instead, she simply bowed her head slightly. "I will take my heave now, Your Majesty."
A faint smirk played on his lips. "We will meet again."
Odi had no doubt.
And as she walked out of the grand hall, her heart pounded with a new kind of fear. Not of death, not of punishme
nt.
But of what was going through the King's mind.