King Darius sat upon his gilded throne, his expression unreadable as he studied the group before him. Odi stood with Ben slightly in front of her, as if shielding her from unseen threats. Her battered body spoke volumes, the bruises stark against her skin, her exhaustion barely hidden behind her defiant stance. Oliver, ever the opportunist, wore an exaggerated expression of humility, though the cunning gleam in his eyes never wavered. Heath stood by the King's side, his piercing gaze flickering between them all, but his disgust was mostly reserved for Oliver.
"I would like to speak to Odi alone," Darius finally said, his voice calm but firm.
Oliver immediately stiffened, his single hand tightening into a fist. "Alone?" he echoed, feigning concern. "Your Majesty, forgive me, but I am her guardian. It would be irresponsible of me to leave her alone with you. A young girl in the presence of a powerful King? Who knows what influence you may have on her?"
A tense silence settled over the throne room. Ben's hands balled into fists, his body tensing in anger. Odi, too weak to react as strongly, merely narrowed her eyes at Oliver's ridiculous act of concern. Darius, on the other hand, felt something stir in his chest, an emotion that was neither rage nor insult.
"You insult me, Oliver," the King said slowly, his voice controlled but laced with irritation. "Do you think I am a man who preys on the weak? Do you think I need deception to win someone over?"
Oliver smirked, the kind of smirk that made Heath take a step forward, his magic brimming beneath the surface of his skin. But Oliver only shook his head. "No, Your Majesty. You are the King. You could have anything you desire. But I have spent my life among thieves, liars, and desperate men. I know when a man wants something. And I see it in your eyes."
Darius stilled, his hands tightening slightly on the arms of his throne. The atmosphere in the room thickened.
"You want her," Oliver continued, his voice smooth, predatory. "The entire kingdom suspects it. Why else would you have let a thief go free? Why else would you summon her personally? And why else would you rage at the sight of her wounds?"
Ben instinctively pulled Odi closer, his grip protective. Odi herself was frozen in shock. She had expected manipulation from Oliver, but not something so bold, so outright humiliating. She dared to glance at the King, expecting him to deny it, to laugh at Oliver's ridiculous claim.
But he didn't.
Darius was silent. His sharp blue eyes remained locked on Oliver, his face giving nothing away. But the absence of denial spoke louder than words.
Oliver's grin widened. "Oh, how fascinating," he murmured. "I raised her well. She is beautiful, captivating. And now, even the mighty King is entranced. If that is the case, Your Majesty, then allow me to make an offer."
"Careful," Heath warned, his voice a low growl.
But Oliver ignored him. "Everything has a price," he said, stepping forward slightly. "I can sell her to you."
The words echoed in the grand hall. The audacity, the sheer arrogance of the statement, had everyone in stunned silence. Odi inhaled sharply, horror creeping up her spine. Ben's entire body went rigid, his breathing uneven as he stared at Oliver in disbelief. Even the guards in the room glanced at each other, their expressions betraying their unease.
Darius, however, did not react in anger. His hands flexed on the throne, his jaw clenched, but his voice remained eerily steady when he spoke. "You would sell her?" he asked, his tone void of emotion.
Oliver shrugged. "Why not? She is mine to give. I have trained her, provided for her. If she is to leave my service, I deserve compensation."
Heath had heard enough. He took a menacing step forward, his fingers twitching with contained magic. "Do you hear yourself, filth?" he snapped. "You speak as though she is a mere object for trade. You dare address the King so casually? Speak one more word out of turn, and I will ensure you do not utter another for a long, long time."
Oliver fell silent, his smirk fading slightly under Heath's piercing gaze. He may have been bold, but he was not foolish enough to test a sorcerer.
Odi, who had remained quiet through the entire exchange, felt something snap inside her. Her hands trembled at her sides, her bruised fingers curling into fists. It wasn't just the pain in her body or the humiliation of being spoken about like an object. It was the realization that, despite everything, despite her skill and cunning, she was still a pawn in a game played by powerful men.
Darius finally turned his gaze to her. His expression softened slightly, but there was something else, something unreadable in his eyes. "Odi," he said, his voice quieter, but still commanding. "Tell me what you want."
The question made her flinch. What she wanted? When had anyone ever asked her that?
Ben squeezed her arm, silently reassuring her. She swallowed, her throat dry. She wanted many things—freedom, peace, vengeance, safety. She wanted a life that wasn't controlled by the whims of men like Oliver. And yet, she wasn't naïve. She knew how dangerous honesty could be in a place like this.
Still, something in Darius' gaze made her hesitate. Was it the same thing Oliver had pointed out? The same intensity, the same pull she felt but couldn't understand?
"I want…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked away, biting her lip before glancing up again, meeting Darius' expectant stare. "I want to leave."
Oliver's smile wavered slightly. Ben's grip on her arm tightened. But Darius? He just watched her. And for the first time in a long while, she felt like someone was truly listening. A slow, measured nod from the King. "Is there a specific reason why you would want to leave? Something to help me judge this properly?"