π»ππ π»πππ ππ π·πππππ
*****
As the days slipped by like elusive shadows, the palace remained ensnared in its web of deception and malice. Every corner whispered with the venomous tongues of courtiers, their masks of civility concealing hearts as black as coal. Amidst this sea of treachery, the king remained aloof, his presence a distant specter in the labyrinthine halls.
Iris, the newest addition to the court, languished in her solitude, her yearning for the king's attention met only with silence. It was whispered in hushed tones that the king reserved his affections solely for the queen, leaving his other brides untouched and forsaken.
Desperate to breach the fortress of the king's indifference, Iris dared to seek an audience with him, but the path was fraught with obstacles. Jealousy and spite wore the faces of the palace maids, who guarded their king with ferocious loyalty, their petty grievances serving as barricades to Iris's aspirations.
Yet, even amidst her own struggles, Iris could not turn a blind eye to the plight of her companion, Rosetta. Behind closed doors, the other women of the court unleashed their cruelty upon her, their whispered taunts a poison seeping into the very foundations of camaraderie. When Iris discovered the truth, her fury knew no bounds, and she struck out against the injustice with a resounding slap.
The palace erupted into chaos, the air thick with tension as words turned to blows. The maids, emboldened by their numbers, hurled insults and accusations at Iris, their voices rising in a cacophony of scorn. They branded her with the cruelest of epithets, accusing her of coveting the king's favor and seeking to usurp the queen's place at his side.
Rosetta's anger brewed like a tempest in her chest, its fierce winds threatening to consume her composure. The Queen's ears caught wind of the tumult, and she summoned Iris and the maids, along with Rosetta, the instigator of the quarrel.
Iris faced the majestic presence of Queen Isabella and her entourage, her gaze locking with that of the monarch. In that moment, an unsettling connection tinged the airβa premonition, perhaps, of darker days to come.
It was not a sensation of warmth or camaraderie that enveloped Iris, but rather a chill, a foreboding as though the loom of fate had woven a sinister thread into their encounter.
A shiver traced the length of her spine as she stood before the Queen, her skin prickling with gooseflesh at the proximity to royalty. In reverent deference, heads bowed around her, yet the Queen's smile, though warm, cast a shadow of uncertainty over Iris's heart.
As Iris brushed aside the unsettling prickle beneath her skin, she scarcely dwelled on its significance. In the regal court, the Queen meticulously listened to every account, weighing the words of accusers and accused alike. Upon reaching her verdict, she castigated the erring maids, expelling them from the opulent confines of the palace.
For Iris, survival in this glittering yet treacherous realm depended on alliances, and she sought to cultivate one with the Queen. Gradually, amidst the passing of days, a tenuous camaraderie emerged between them. Although their bond lacked the intimacy of confidantes, Iris found solace in the mere semblance of closeness it offered.
As her days fell into a steady cadence, Iris found herself ensconced in her new duties. With meticulous care, she brewed aromatic teas, each blend crafted to soothe the Queen's persistent migraines. Always watchful, she remained a silent presence near the Queen. Amidst her tasks, she stole fleeting glances at the king, observing his visits with a mixture of curiosity and longing. The rare occasion when his gaze met hers stirred an unfamiliar warmth within her.
Iris breathed a quiet sigh of relief, her heart fluttering with a mixture of gratitude and resignation as he finally acknowledged her presence. Yet, beneath her gratitude, a bitter truth lingered; she knew all too well that his notice was merely a consequence of her care for Queen. As days slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass, the king's occasional glances towards Iris and the rare nod in response to her morning greetings provided small, albeit fleeting, moments of validation.
Then came the day that shattered the fragile equilibrium of routine. Without warning, Iris and her fellow concubines were summoned for the virginity test. Accompanied by a retinue of knights, they were ushered into a vast chamber devoid of anything but rows of austere beds. As Iris scanned the room, a shiver ran down her spine, the eerie emptiness of the space casting a pall of unease over her senses.
The maids directed them to recline upon the beds, their demeanor varying from nonchalant ease to palpable trepidation. While the seasoned concubines displayed a practiced calm, the newlywed brides betrayed their fear with beads of sweat glistening upon their brows, their anxiety palpable in the air.
Queen Isabella swept into the room, her regal presence commanding attention as she glided gracefully towards Iris, her delicate hand extending to tenderly pat the young woman's stiffened shoulder. Iris, her nerves strung taut like violin strings, dipped her head in deference, a gesture mirrored by the rest of the room's occupants before they reclined upon the opulent beds that adorned the chamber.
With a measured gaze, Isabella observed as the maids meticulously attended to their duties, discreetly verifying the purity of each bride in the room before her. Satisfied, she bestowed a serene smile upon the assembly before gracefully exiting, the rustle of her gown echoing in the hushed air.
Iris, her heart pounding like a distant drumbeat, felt the weight of anticipation settle heavily upon her as the moment of truth approached. Alongside her fellow brides, Gracy and Kendal, she offered herself up to the scrutiny of the maids, their trembling hands deftly lifting the trailing tails of their gowns.
Amidst the whispered commands to relax, Iris fought to steady her racing pulse, drawing in a deep breath to quell the rising tide of anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. With a concerted effort, she willed her muscles to soften, surrendering to the inevitable examination with closed eyes and a heavy sigh.
As the ordeal drew to a close, the concubines emerged from the chamber, their outward composure masking the turmoil that churned within. Tension hung thick in the air like an oppressive fog, though each woman endeavored to maintain the facade of serene indifference behind their carefully crafted smiles.
Marriott, the fourth concubine, cast a penetrating gaze towards the new brides, her eyes locking with Iris. She stepped forward gracefully, her presence commanding attention. "I'm Marriott," she announced with a slight bow, her voice carrying authority despite its gentle timbre. "Forgive my belated introduction." She paused, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. "Rest assured, this virginity test is a monthly ritual, ensuring the purity of our concubines and safeguarding against any dalliances with knights or lowly guards."
Iris and the others nodded in understanding, their expressions a mix of resignation and acceptance. However, it was Gracy who voiced the question that lingered on everyone's minds. "Has anyone been caught before?" she inquired, her tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension.
Marriott's response carried a somber undertone as she recounted a past incident. "It was a princess from a foreign realm, though her name eludes me now, for her stay was brief. She had yielded her virtue to a lover, unaware of the consequences. When she arrived here, betrothed to King Lucious, aspiring to ascend the throne as his queen, she faced the scrutiny of our tradition. Despite refusing the test, she was coerced by the Queen Dowager and exposed."
Gracy leaned forward, her voice laced with fascination. "Then how did Her Majesty ascend to the throne?"
Marriott explained, "The Queen Dowager initially selected the princess to marry the king. However, when it came to light that she was not chaste, she was exiled from the kingdom and forbidden from ever setting foot in Obsidian Crown for her betrayal. As for Her Majesty, she shares a longstanding friendship with the king. Therefore, the Queen Consort sought Queen Isabella's hand in marriage, influenced by the bond she shared with the king."
"Oh, what if any of us commit adultery?" As Kendal's mischievous inquiry slipped from her lips, a playful gleam danced in her eyes, drawing a reproachful smack from Gracy's firm hand, stifling any further jest.
Marriott's gaze bore into Gracy's, laden with solemnity. "Adultery, my dear, is a sin that carries the weight of execution. If we're fortunate, the king may grant us clemency, exiling us from the kingdom with a stern decree never to return, much like he did with the tainted princess."
Gracy's fists clenched, the tension in the room thickening with each passing moment, mirrored in the shallow breaths of Kendal. Then, with a creak, the heavy doors swung open, revealing the head maid, her stern countenance brooking no delay. "Step inside, swiftly now."
With a graceful swish of skirts, the maids stepped inside as the head maid closed the door with a definitive click. Her stern face softened slightly as she shared her findings. "Everyone embodies pure loyalty," she announced, her voice carrying a rare warmth.
Gracy's shoulders sank in relief, and a gentle sigh escaped her lips. Kendal, standing beside her, tenderly took her arm, providing silent support. Iris, observing the scene, allowed a smile to bloom on her face. But as her gaze met the head maid's, who was already fixedly staring at her, she felt a jolt of surprise.
The head maid's expression remained inscrutable as she finally spoke again. "You may all retire to your chambers," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
As everyone began to leave, Iris prepared to take her leave as well. However, before she could step away, the stern voice of the head maid halted her in her tracks. "Stay back, Lady Iris."
Curious, Iris pivoted on her heel, her gaze locking with the determined expression of the head maid. A subordinate maid approached, bearing a weighty bag of coins, which she ceremoniously handed over to her superior. With an air of authority, the head maid positioned herself squarely before Iris, her demeanor unyielding.
"What is the matter?" Iris inquired, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"My Lady, if I may ask," the head maid began, her tone measured, "are you not of the Aurora Glade Monarchy?" She awaited Iris's confirmation, her expression betraying nothing but a sense of duty.
Iris offered a simple nod, her expression serene despite the tension thickening the air. The head maid's disdainful scoff cut through the silence like a sharpened blade. "With a kingdom as grand as yours, I expected more dignity," she spat.
Confusion furrowed Iris's brow as she leaned in slightly. "What do you mean?" she inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.
With a mixture of disdain and disappointment, the head maid seized Iris's delicate hand, depositing the bag of coins into her palm as if it were tainted. "Your mother, the Queen of the illustrious Aurora Glade Monarchy, stooped to bribery," she accused, her tone dripping with contempt. "Such actions befit not a queen but a common swindler. My faith in the integrity of your kingdom wanes with every passing moment, knowing that beside your father, the king, there lies a queen capable of such ignoble deeds. Your once noble realm now teeters on the brink of lawlessness and ruin."
Iris stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest, as the head maid brushed past her with an icy indifference. For a moment, time seemed to stall, allowing Iris to gather her thoughts amidst the swirl of emotions. Before the head maid could retreat further, Iris's fury ignited within her, spurring her to speak.
"I believe you are mistaken," Iris's voice trembled with suppressed anger, yet carried a steely resolve.
Startled, the head maid turned back, her expression a mix of confusion and severity. Iris swallowed hard, summoning her courage to continue. "My mother, Queen of Aurora Glade Monarchy, is not only a monarch but also a mother, much like yourself. And this..." Iris paused, casting a pointed glance at the bag of coins clutched tightly in her hand, "This is merely a token of her appreciation for your care. If she had intended to bribe you, rest assured, the sum would have been far beyond your wildest imaginings. Do not mistake gratitude for bribery. Take it," she concluded, her voice laced with a wry chuckle.
The head maid stood dumbfounded, her earlier resolve crumbling in the face of Iris's unexpected eloquence and defiance as she accepted the bag, her gaze locking onto Iris with a mix of shock and uncertainty. Iris, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, posed her question with deliberate nonchalance. "And how many daughters do you have?"
"I have two daughters, my lady," the head maid replied, her words laced with a thinly veiled attempt to conceal her simmering anger and wounded pride.
"And your eldest daughter serves under me, does she not? Gifted by His Majesty for my service," Iris inquired, her smirk deepening into a knowing grin.
The head maid's knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists, her jaw set in silent defiance. She met Iris's gaze with a firm nod.
"Very well... This is for her, then, not you. She has earned my favor and proves her worth. There's no need for clandestine discarding. You're not entitled to such actions."
"Yes, understood, my lady," the head maid replied, her bow strained, her eyes fixated on the elegant sweep of Iris's gown, her anger smoldering beneath a façade of deference. Iris turned to depart but halted abruptly, her gaze returning to meet the head maid's. "Inform your daughter that my gesture is one of approval, not manipulation," she declared before striding back to her chambers, leaving the head maid seething in her wake.
Rosetta, witnessing the exchange, approached Iris tentatively, her hand reaching out to gently grasp Iris's own. "Why did you do that? Weren't you the one who cautioned me to hold back, emphasizing the importance of connections within the palace?"
"We needn't abide by such caution any longer. I intend to leverage the Queen's favor, to draw nearer to her," Iris declared, meeting Rosetta's gaze with steely determination. Rosetta's eyes widened in astonishment, but she acquiesced with a single, silent nod.
"I must attend to my duties," Rosetta smiled faintly, and Iris returned the gesture before parting ways in the corridor. Yet, as Iris rounded the corner, unexpected hands seized her shoulders, wrenching her backward, pressing her against the cold stone wall.
Shocked and terrified, Iris's gaze darted between the two men before her. One was familiar, his features etched with lines of recognition, while the other was a stranger, his presence unsettling. The familiar man's eyes, a shade of slight blue, held a unique intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
"Bella?" The man's lips curved into a smile, but the warmth in his expression faltered the moment his eyes met hers.
"Why are you here?!" His voice cracked with disbelief, his grip on her shoulders tightening as he stared at her, his features contorted with shock and confusion.
"Huh?" Iris's own confusion mirrored in her voice as she struggled against his hold, her heart pounding in her chest.
He peered into her eyes, a mix of astonishment and disappointment contorting his features. "You don't remember me?"
Iris swallowed hard, her heart pounding as she averted her gaze. His jaw tensed, though he managed a strained smile. "We've met before. I'm Magnus."
Avoiding his gaze, Iris nodded silently, her fingers fidgeting nervously as Magnus's gaze bore into her, heavy with discontent. Before Iris could react, the other man stepped forward, interposing himself between her and Magnus. With a deft movement, he released Magnus's grip on her shoulders. "Easy now, Magnus," he admonished, his voice smooth but authoritative. "Let's not be impolite. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kyrell, the sovereign of Nightshade and brother to Queen Isabella."
Iris's eyes widened in astonishment at the revelation, and she instinctively inclined her head in deference. Kyrell advanced toward her, drawing closer until he stood directly in front of her, his presence commanding. With a sudden, unexpected gesture, he slid his hands to either side of her waist, causing her to gasp in surprise as he pulled her forcefully against him.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Iris exclaimed, attempting to assert her independence. But Kyrell disregarded her protest, leaning in closer until his lips brushed against her ear. "Magnus has claimed an interest in you, my dear. I couldn't resist the temptation to see what all the fuss is about." Iris's eyes widened in disbelief, her jaw slackening in shock at the audacity of his actions.
Magnus gritted his teeth, his fists clenching tightly at his sides, his very breath laden with simmering anger. Across from him, Kyrell's grin twisted into a sly smirk as he beheld Iris's discomfort. Drawing closer, he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing against her skin with a chilling intimacy. "You're a new face in the palace, aren't you? It's been barely a month since your arrival, and you've already undergone the virginity test. Fear not, my dear, for your innocence won't last long in my presence. I'll see to that."
Iris's eyes widened in shock, her body freezing as Kyrell's tongue darted across her neck, a sensation that sent shivers down her spine. With a gasp, she pushed against his chest, her struggles evident as she fought to break free from his grasp. In a swift motion, Magnus seized Kyrell's hand, wrenching it away from Iris's form and releasing her from his grip.
As Iris stumbled backward, her hand lashed out, the sound of her slap resonating sharply through the air as it struck Kyrell's cheek. "You despicable fiend!" she spat, her voice trembling with fury and indignation, before turning on her heel and storming away.
Unfazed by her departure, Kyrell's smirk only widened, a cruel glint in his eyes as he called after her, his voice dripping with malicious amusement. "For you, my dear, anything."
Annoyance flared within Iris as she shot a glare over her shoulder at him, her eyes flashing with frustration. With determined steps, she quickened her pace, the echo of her footsteps resonating in the hallway. Behind her, Kyrell's voice rang out, a mixture of insistence and defiance. "It's Kyrell. Remember my name, for our paths shall cross again."
Ignoring his words, Iris pressed forward without a backward glance, her resolve evident in the steady rhythm of her stride.
As Iris disappeared around the corner, Kyrell's smile faded, replaced by a furrowed brow as he turned to face Magnus. "What troubles you? Why did you intervene?"
Magnus released a heavy sigh, the weight of disbelief settling like a leaden cloak upon his shoulders. "It cannot be her, not ever. She's the very one I've spoken to you about."
Kyrell, his brow arching with a hint of amusement, let out a soft chuckle tinged with disbelief. "After scouring every corner of the earth, she saunters into the palace under the guise of marrying your brother. Fate has a twisted sense of humor, indeed."
With a mournful shake of his head, Magnus murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow, "Who could have foreseen such a turn of events?"
A smile touched Kyrell's lips as he countered, his tone laced with a quiet confidence, "Yet, I dare not put my trust in the whims of fate, for in our own hands lies the power to shape our destinies."
*****
π·ππ'π‘ ππππππ‘ π‘π ππππ, πππππππ‘, πππ π ππππ ππ¦ π€πππβ‘
/α - Λ -γ
BαΊ‘n Δang Δα»c truyα»n trΓͺn: AzTruyen.Top