The news spread like wildfire.
From the bustling market squares to the quiet countryside, whispers of King Darius's latest acquisition, a former thief, a mere slave, now claimed as his concubine, rippled through the kingdom. The villagers, always hungry for gossip, spoke in hushed voices and gasps of disbelief. Some shook their heads in disapproval, while others speculated about the girl's allure that had ensnared the mighty king.
"She must be a beauty beyond compare," an old woman muttered as she sold figs in the village square.
"Or perhaps a sorceress, she is a witch, enchanted out king! She needs to be investigated" another added, casting wary glances towards the castle looming over the city.
Merchants debated in their shops, farmers spoke of it while tending their fields, and nobles whispered of scandal over lavish feasts. It was a story that defied expectations, a slave girl, a thief, and the king's new possession.
At the palace, reality struck harder.
Odi stormed out of the throne room, her body rigid with fury, her breath shallow and uneven. She barely felt her aching bruises anymore, the weight of betrayal and the unfairness of life burned stronger than any pain Oliver had ever inflicted on her.
Ben followed closely, his face twisted in distress.
"Odi—"
She didn't stop, didn't acknowledge him. The walls of the palace felt suffocating, towering over her like an elegant prison. She hadn't spoken a word since the king's decree, afraid that if she did, she would crumble. Her hands shook violently as she finally stopped, right outside the throne room.
And then, she broke.
Tears welled in her eyes before spilling over, hot and relentless. She gritted her teeth, trying to suppress the sobs threatening to consume her, but her body betrayed her. Her shoulders trembled, her chest ached. She had spent her entire life fighting, enduring, surviving, but this, this was unbearable. She felt like her life wasn't her own. Being tosses from one master the other? Was she a dog?
Guards stood nearby, their eyes flickering towards her with unreadable expressions. Some averted their gazes, as if the sight of her anguish was too intimate, too raw. Others watched with quiet curiosity, waiting for whatever was to come next.
And then there was Oliver.
The wretched man stood a few feet away, grinning like a merchant who had just struck gold. He folded his arms, watching her with amusement.
"Come now, Odi," he drawled. "Tears? Is this not what you wanted? A grand life in the palace? To be desired by a king?"
Odi turned on him with fire in her eyes. "You sold me," she spat, her voice hoarse with emotion. "You sold me like I was nothing."
Oliver only laughed. "Nothing? My dear, I made you something. You should be thanking me. A slave in a gutter has now become the possession of a king. That is no small feat."
She wanted to lunge at him, to claw at his face, to make him feel even an ounce of the pain he had caused her. But her body was too weak, and the fight in her was tangled with despair.
Oliver shook his head, still grinning, and with an exaggerated stretch, he turned on his heel and strode away. He was off to spread the news further, no doubt reveling in his victory. His absence did nothing to soothe her rage.
Ben stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Odi, listen to me."
She didn't want to listen. She didn't want to hear anything. But Ben's presence, his warmth, grounded her.
"At least… at least we won't have to steal anymore," he said hesitantly, trying to find any trace of light in the situation. "No more punishments. No more hunger. That's something, right?"
Odi let out a bitter laugh between her tears. "But we won't be together."
Ben swallowed hard. He had no argument for that. His face was pale, his fingers clenched into fists. "I'll find a way," he whispered. "I won't leave you here like this."
Odi turned to him, her eyes filled with agony. "You don't understand, Ben. I was never free and I will never be free. There's no hope of leaving here at all. At least, there was hope that we could escape or run away one day from Oliver, but here, we're serving the King. I've been traded like cattle my entire life. First my stepfather, then Oliver, and now the king. It never ends."
Ben's heart clenched at her words. He reached for her hands, gripping them tightly. "It will end, Odi. I swear it."
A slow, controlled voice interrupted them.
"Are you finished?"
Odi and Ben turned sharply to see one of the king's advisors approaching. A tall, stern man with calculating eyes. He regarded them as one might regard an inconvenience.
"The king has ordered that you be prepared," the advisor continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "You will be escorted to the women's wing of the palace, where you will be bathed and dressed accordingly."
Odi's stomach churned. Dressed accordingly.
Ben took a step forward, but a guard placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "And you," the advisor turned to Ben, "will be escorted to your new post. His Majesty has assigned you to the outer palace as a sentry."
Ben stiffened. "But…"
The guard tightened his grip. "It is not a request."
Odi's nails dug into her palms. "Don't do this," she pleaded. "Please…don't separate us."
The advisor barely spared her a glance. "You are the king's now. What happens next is not for you to decide."
Odi felt the walls closing in, her vision blurring. She wanted to fight, to scream, to demand that they listen. But in the end, her feet remained frozen, her body still trembling from the weight of everything she had lost.
Ben's eyes locked onto hers. "I'll come back for you," he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. "No matter what it takes."
And then, he was dragged away.
Odi stood there, watching helplessly as the only person who had ever truly been hers was taken from her.
The palace doors shut behind her. The echoes of her fate settled in the stillness.
She was alone again.