ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

I've never been to the city of Evertania, the location of the royal Adoridian castle. There hasn't been a reason since Adorid decided to rage war on Lagulon, not until today.

I've studied the maps of the kingdoms across the lands, so I'm aware of some of Adorid's geography. The soil here in Adorid is red, rich in iron and aluminum. In fact, it's some of these ore deposits that make Adorid such a desirable ally. My father said that before Leighton's rule, King Phale was generous with giving away their resources. Now, the steady flow into the neighbouring kingdoms has ceased. Iron stays within Adorid now, and it's only allowed their army to become more powerful. They forge their weapons with it—and according to rumours, they're merciless when it comes to yielding them.

Once we left Lagulon, our group had to travel through Hell's Gate, a passage between two towering mountain ranges. It's a dangerous highway to Evertania, littered with bandits and thieves if you dare go alone. Yet, it's the most direct route. Fortunately, no one dared infiltrate our crew, and we eventually made it to the castle in one piece.

We cross the gates and into the castle courtyards. The walls here span higher than anything, and the red stone brick mimics the kingdom's soil. Lorcan stands on one side of me as he has been throughout the day of travels. Elena also stands near, holding my hand within her own. I'm not sure if it's to ease her fear or mine, but her assurance seems to help.

"You didn't have to come," I whisper to Elena. "My father would have sent someone else."

"No, no! This is my duty to you," Elena shudders as a tall Adoridian guard bumps into her shoulder. She scowls, almost lifting up a certain finger (a streak of fire I know Elena has) but refrains. "Besides, we both know your father trusts me."

He does. My father holds a certain fondness towards Elena, one that even I have caught onto since my mother's passing. I never ask about it, not that I want to know what conspires between them. I know she also acts as his personal handmaiden as well—and I have an inkling that there's something more than just servanthood blooming between them.

"You're nervous," I playfully nudge her shoulder. "I can tell."

"Of course I'm nervous! This place has a reputation," Elena's voice squeaks, making sure no one overhears her. "They're going to send me to the servant's quarters to sleep if I don't end up somewhere else."

"Then sleep in my bedroom," I offer. "Please? I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep in this place anyway."

I've asked Tobin to stay nearly every night, and have grown accustomed to his presence. Although Elena won't be the same, it'll be nice to have a friend nearby.

"Thank the gods," she breathes in relief.

Leighton and Brock walk ahead of us, stopping as we cross into a garden. By now, the majority of the traveling party has disappeared with our belongings, and all that remains is Lorcan, Elena, and I, as well as Leighton and Brock. Leighton left his second-in-command, Gareth, behind at our castle, as well as a small fleet of Adoridian knights. It's probably to intimidate my father—or to annoy him to no end.

"I personally want to give my wife a tour of this place," Leighton tells us. His icy eyes only linger on me, and I wonder if he has some sort of payback set up for me for what I did to his underpants. "I believe this is your first time at the Adoridian castle, am I correct, Imogen?"

My tongue goes dry. "It is."

"It's a shame your father has never bothered to visit during my reign," he begins to stroll again. "It's been fifteen years of my kingship—or at least until my father died. Not once has anyone from Lagulon even tried to visit."

King Phale. Leighton's father. He died of disease, much like many figureheads across the lands. Leighton was the heir to the Adoridian throne, only twenty at the time. That's when the alliances fell apart, and Leighton's greed and power grew.

I glance over at the king of Adorid. "We shouldn't waste your time with a tour. I'm sure we can show ourselves around."

"I insist," Leighton says. "I believe we got off on the wrong foot, and starting over is what we need."

That might be what he says—that we just 'got off on the wrong foot'—but I don't believe there is a correct foot to even begin. I glance behind me at Elena and Lorcan, as well as Brock (who seems to be more entertained by a butterfly). I'm thankful for the extra eyes, because heaven forbid Lorcan will leave me alone with Leighton.

"There are a couple of amenities that I think you will particularly like," Leighton begins with a smile, one that I already despise. "You have full access to the gardens here such as these."

I crook a brow. "Just the gardens?"

"I don't make much use of them," he mutters. "I have other priorities than to admire fucking flowers."

"Such a shame," I smirk. "I am going to make sure there are plenty of flowers at the wedding."

Leighton's jaw ticks. If he doesn't like flowers, I'll love flowers more than I already do. I'll put flowers in every room in this castle just to irk him.

"Do as you please, princess," a smirk touches his lips. "The wedding day is yours. The rest are mine."

Bastard. As he continues his walk, I only long to snap his neck.

We pass through the training grounds, and I take note of all the accessible weaponry laying around. Although none of them are bows with arrows. It seems this kingdom thrives more on swordplay and spearing. Knights watch as we pass, pausing their sparring. Some of them have open wounds from just training against one another. It's a reminder that no matter where I am, I'm not safe at this castle. No one is.

Next, we pass by a large pond. It's filled with some of the most beautiful fish. I recognize some: koi, salmon, and beta. Their scales shine golden, almost like a halo of colour around them as they swirl in the deep. The waters remain crystal clear so that you can see the bottom.

Leighton shakes his head. "I don't like to fish, but if that's what you fancy, then be my guest."

"Do you have any hobbies?" I'm genuinely curious, or is his past time waging war?

He ponders the question for a moment, then meets my gaze. "I'm more of a strategist," he mutters. "I like to figure out puzzles, something that might help me rather than hinder my mind."

After showing us the pond, Leighton brings us to another sector of the garden. This garden holds an apiary storing at least a dozen colonies of bees.

"There's always fresh honey in the kitchen," he grumbles. "Not that I like honey, but it's a habit my father started, and I wouldn't want to break it."

It's strange hearing Leighton regard his own father so highly, considering the two men were completely different. King Phale led with more grace and generosity than Leighton ever would. How did Leighton fall so far from his father's footsteps? What changed for him to transform into this villainous monster hiding behind a pair of icy blue eyes?

We cross over a bridge towards the castle. "Fortunately, we do not have a hot spring," he glares at me as he says this. "But the inside accommodations will impress you, my wife."

Gods, I hate it when he says it like that.

We enter into the main sanctum of the castle, a large hall filled with tapestries that tell tales of Adorid's past. Artifacts hang with pride on the red stone walls. Paintings of past rulers line one far wall, all of them members of the royal monarchy. The newest addition? Leighton himself. The king's throne sits at the far end of the great hall, a deep green carpet at its feet. Forest green flags drape from the red stone columns. Green—the colour of Adorid.

"In a few night's time, this is where I will announce our betrothal to the kingdom of Adorid," Leighton explains.

"It's... spacious," I manage to say, although deep inside, I dread the idea of the announcement.

Nausea consumes me at the thought of standing in front of thousands of Adoridians. They'll all think I'm to be his wife, when inside, I'm struggling to get away from his chains. Are the commoners of Adorid even aware that their king was halfway to shedding Lagulon's blood? Do they even care about my kingdom?

"At least a thousand can fit in here, and at least another thousand more if we expand into the courtyards," he mentions. "I'm expecting a lot of guests, so you'll have to get used to the crowds. I also made sure every nobleman and duke could arrive for this very special moment."

This will be nothing but special, but I scowl anyway. "I thought the announcement would be a smaller gathering."

"No, it will be a whole night of celebration," Leighton's eyes meet mine, freezing my insides in cold frozen ice. There is nothing about this man that exempts warmth, not even when he tries to smile. "It will all be for you, my dear Imogen."

For me. His bride. His queen. His wife.

He'll have the crowds suffocate me. He'll clench his fists of authority and strangle me. Somehow, someway, this festive night will be a nightmare come to life. Yet, it's all under the guise of celebration, just like it was back at the feast that occurred days ago. At least then I could go to my room and run away in the fairytale whirlwind of Tobin.

Here, it's just me against the world.

I glance over at Elena and Lorcan who both seem to show similar disdain for the upcoming plans. Neither of them speak a word, but it's apparent neither of them want to make the cruel king stop talking. Yet, something about this whole ordeal seems off. Even Leighton's friendly demeanor sets me teetering on edge. I refuse to believe that this man only desires a wedding. There has to be something else. There has to be more.

Leighton continues to show us other areas of the castle. First, the dining hall, adjourned with a waxed table top that shines in the rays of fading sunlight. The next, the Adoridian library filled to the brim with books and scrolls. After that, all the rooms seem to merge together. All the artwork becomes the same painting, and all the Adoridian treasures become the same dusty old trinket.

Finally, Leighton stops in the guest wing. "This will be your bedroom," he gestures to the door, and then to another door next to it. "Lorcan will be in the adjoining room, because I know how uptight your father is on your guards. Brock will be monitoring your door during the evenings."

Brock—Leighton's captain of the guard, and also the man who'd rather watch a butterfly than listen to his own king ramble on about the castle.

Still, I thank the stars Lorcan is nearby, and I already told Elena she could sleep in my bedroom to avoid the other accommodations for her. Besides, it's only six more days, but gods, it will be the most exhausting six days of my life.

"I think I'm going to need some rest," I reach behind me and grab onto Elena's hand. She takes it without a hesitation. "This was great, really, but traveling this far is tiresome."

Before I can reach for the door handle, Leighton takes a hold of my shoulder, pulling my body towards his direction. His touch sends icy veins through my blood, and they begin to build a tundra in my heart. A desolate, cold, barren winter that will never thaw without an escape. He's never touched me before today. Not even at the Lagulon castle.

"You're a feisty little thing, you know," he whispers, his breath fanning my cheek. I briefly swing my head towards Lorcan whose fingers grip the hilt of his sword. He's waiting to attack, to kill this man if he proceeds to do anything else. "If you dare try anything within this castle, I will know of it within milliseconds. You won't like the punishments I have planned for you."

"You wouldn't dare hurt your wife. What kind of message would that send to my father?"

He chuckles. "They won't know a damn thing about it, because they won't be able to see—"

I spit in his face. His goddamn face.

I just horked up a wad of saliva, and shot it right between his eyes. The clear liquid now drips down his nose before he wipes it away with his calloused fingers. At once, his face twists into one of pure wrath.

Gods, what have I done?

Leighton's mouth opens to berate me when Lorcan throws open the bedroom door and pulls me and Elena inside.

"Let me deal with this one, my liege," Lorcan quickly tells him, then enters into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

The bedroom we stand in is spacious in size, with a large canopy bed against the far wall and glass windows reflecting the white sunlight. Forest green curtains hang from the windows, wide open to let the light inside. The furniture—the dressers, the vanity, the desks and tables—are all stained a deep cherrywood brown. The sheets are green, the quilts are green; everything in here is designed to reflect Adorid.

Lorcan crosses his burly arms and glares at me, certainly not impressed with what just happened out in the corridor.

"I didn't think that it could get worse than spearing his underpants in the throne room," Lorcan begins, his voice calculated as he speaks. "But spitting in his face?"

I clench my fists. "You heard what he said to me. Besides, what happened to not letting that asshole lay a hand on me?"

"Believe me. I want him dead," Lorcan rouses, "but it wouldn't be wise of us to assassinate the king in their own castle, in front of their captain of the guard."

"And what would Brock do? He hardly speaks a word!"

"Because he knows what it's like to get out of line," Lorcan hisses, then drops his voice to a lower decibel. "Leighton may have put on a friendly persona today, but when the darkness consumes him, his true nature reveals itself. He's not afraid to inflict pain, even on a princess he intends to marry."

"He's right, Imogen," Elena chimes in. She sets her hand on my shoulder, her touch instinctively maternal. "There's a few handmaidens that fled this castle, and somehow made it back to the Lagulonian base camps in Isembard. When they were transferred to our castle, they told us rumours of how ruthless Leighton was to everyone under his power."

"What exactly did they say?" I breathe.

Fear tangles itself amidst Elena's green eyes. "I can't remember the details, but a lot of them hold scars on their bodies that they can never remove. Many of them lost their lovers to his cruel hand, and they're not even sure why they had to die. They spoke of the highest ranking officials rebelling against his reign and falling to his sword, causing them to bleed until the blood hits the ground. The people of Adorid already tried to kill him once, and they failed."

"What do you mean they failed?" Never before have I heard of an uprising in Adorid due to Leighton's rule. If there was, I'd have known, wouldn't I? My father taught me everything I needed to know about this place to ease my anxiety.

Lorcan clears his throat, keeping his voice hushed. "There was five years of unrest in Adorid when Leighton became king. In that time, a rebellion grew within Adorid—"

"How come I've never heard about this?" I cut him off.

"Because," Lorcan's hazel eyes meet mine, but there's a distance in them as he recalls past memories. "You were young at the time, hardly eleven. Besides, this isn't the right place to be telling you about this."

"Tell me, " I clench my fists. I'm sick of the secrets that are kept from me in order to keep me protected.

Lorcan breaks much easier than I thought. "The Adoridian officials tried to keep the rebellion contained within their borders, but they knew they could never overthrow Leighton on their own. Leighton developed a following—a loyal one, to be exact."

Elena guides me over to the bed, helping me take a seat. A rebellion. The news is enough to make me sway. If it had succeeded, all the hell that it had caused could be prevented. There'd be no war. There'd be no marriage.

I wouldn't need to be here, marrying a man with an oil black soul.

"Leighton's second-in-command arrived at the Lagulon castle to make a plea with your father, asking for assistance. He informed us that in a matter of days they would assassinate Leighton, and he would take the throne. Not out of greed, but because he foresaw the darkness that would come because of it."

I set my hand on my chest. "What happened to them?"

Lorcan sighs, lowering his gaze with a solemn shake of his head. His black hair falls over his dark skin, his gaze suddenly avoidant. "There was no use. Berin was killed shortly after his return to Adorid before we could even act."

"Berin..." the name falls from my lips. I've never heard of the man, not even in the royal archives. It's strange that so much could occur within my lifetime, and yet I never knew anything of it.

My father and mother always liked to keep Ruslan and I protected, because we were their little ducklings, their beautiful innocent children who never needed to know the brutality of war.

Elena sits beside me on the covers of the bed, rubbing her hand on my back in soothing circles. "There's a lot to take in."

"These people hate him," I mutter, my heartbeat now pumping in my ears. "They want him dead..."

I could shoot Leighton with an arrow. I should've. I had the chance when I caught him in the hot springs, and yet I didn't. Why?

"We have to do something," I say, my voice breaking as the first wave of helplessness crosses over me. "Anything."

Lorcan lifts his hazel eyes over to Elena, almost as if they two telepathically give each other the grim message. There has to be some way to rid the lands of Leighton, or to destroy the internal devil that consumes his blackened soul. But the answer is clear. There is nothing in our power that will make the world right again. Not even ridding the world of Leighton will solve the dark seeds he's planted.

"There's nothing else you can do," Lorcan mutters under his breath. "You're already doing more than we could ever ask."

There is only one form of action I can take that might ease Lagulon's pain. In a matter of days, this betrothal will be announced to the kingdom of Adorid. It will be official, as if it were written in stone.

I have to marry Leighton.

── •✧• ──

Welcome to Adorid! This chapter took a lot of world building and descriptions, and that takes a lot of energy from my writing. But hey! I powered through. 

Imogen is still Imogen when it comes to dealing with Leighton. What do you think is going to happen at the betrothal celebration? Will Imogen manage to steal Leighton's underpants and hang it in the throne room? All questions will be answered with time.

Remember to vote, comment, & share!