The sun blazed mercilessly in the afternoon sky, its golden rays scorching everything beneath it. The once cool morning air had been swallowed up by the oppressive heat, and the palace courtyard shimmered under its intensity. The stone pavement was too hot to walk on barefoot, and the air was thick with the scent of dust and sweat. Servants moved sluggishly, their brows slick with perspiration, as they carried out their duties with quiet diligence, hoping to avoid drawing attention to themselves in the sweltering afternoon.
Odi stood in the middle of the courtyard, her heart pounding in her chest. She barely had a moment to process what had just happened before the stinging pain on her cheek registered. The force of the slap had made her stagger slightly, and she brought a hand to her face, her fingers brushing over the burning skin. Her vision blurred momentarily, not from tears, but from the sheer shock of the assault.
She turned her head to look at her attacker. A woman she had never seen before stood before her, elegantly dressed in royal garments, the silk of her robes shimmering under the sun. The woman's dark eyes burned with contempt, her lips curled in a sneer of superiority. Odi knew immediately that this woman was of noble birth; the arrogance, the entitlement, the unshakable belief that she had the right to strike another person without reason—it was all written in her stance.
"How dare you talk to my king like that?" The woman's voice dripped with disdain.
Odi frowned. The sharpness of the words, the venom lacing them, unsettled her. Who was this woman, and what had she done to deserve such treatment? Had she unknowingly offended the king? Had she spoken out of turn? Her mind raced, searching for an answer, but before she could respond, movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention.
Princess Ariana lifted her hand again, her nails gleaming like claws in the sunlight, ready to strike once more.
But before she could make contact, a strong hand caught her wrist mid-air.
"Enough!"
The voice that rang through the courtyard was filled with authority, and anger The tension in the air thickened as all eyes turned to King Darius. He held Princess Ariana's wrist tightly, his grip firm, his expression dark and unreadable. Silence fell like a heavy blanket over the gathered onlookers.
The servants and guards who had paused to witness the spectacle instantly resumed their duties, afraid of being caught staring. But even as they returned to their work, their ears remained open, their hearts pounding at the unexpected scene unfolding before them.
"My king," Princess Ariana began, attempting to compose herself, "I was merely disciplining—
"Please, Ariana," Darius cut her off, his voice dangerously low. "I never asked you to discipline anyone for me."
His tone sent a clear message: he was furious. His dark eyes bore into her, unwavering and filled with restrained rage. Ariana shrank back slightly, her confidence faltering for the first time since she had arrived.
"I am sorry, my king," she tried again, "but this insolent wretch was speaking to you far too casually. Who does she think she is?"
Darius exhaled sharply, his patience hanging by a thread. His gaze flickered to Odi, who stood silently, her head held high despite the lingering pain on her cheek. Something in her stance, in the way she refused to cower, made his anger surge even further, not at her, but at Ariana.
"Odi, you may leave us," he said at last, his voice softer now, but still firm.
Odi hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two, before nodding stiffly and turning on her heel. She could feel Ariana's glare burning into her back as she walked away, but she refused to look back. She would not give the bitch the satisfaction of seeing her wounded pride.
As soon as Odi disappeared from view, Darius grabbed Ariana's wrist once more, this time leading her forcefully away from prying eyes. The princess yelped in protest, her slippers scraping against the stone as she stumbled slightly.
"My king! You are hurting me!" she cried, attempting to pry his hand away. "How dare you treat me like this?"
Darius did not loosen his grip until they reached the secluded shadows of the garden, where the scent of blooming jasmine did little to soothe his growing fury. He finally released her, stepping back and running a hand through his dark, tousled hair.
"Ariana," he said, his voice eerily calm, "you have overstayed your welcome."
The princess gasped, clutching her wrist as though he had broken it. "What?"
"You heard me," Darius said. "I told you not to meddle in my affairs. You have ignored me, overstepped your bounds, and now you lay hands on someone under my protection?"
Ariana scoffed, disbelief flashing across her face. "Under your protection?" she repeated, laughing bitterly. "Is that what this is about? I heard the rumors, Darius. I know about the slave you've been favoring—the one who is likely your mistress. Is that her?"
Darius's expression darkened dangerously, but Ariana continued, unfazed.
"My king, have you been sleeping with that wretch?" she demanded.
Darius clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. His patience had reached its breaking point, but he forced himself to remain composed.
"You will watch your tongue, Ariana," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. The sheer menace in his tone made the princess falter, but she quickly recovered.
"That ugly rat!" she spat, shaking her head in disgust. "Is she the reason you have refused to proceed with our marriage? Is that filthy slave what's keeping you from your duties?"
Darius felt the rage rise within him, a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. He wanted nothing more than to silence her venomous tongue, to rid himself of the incessant noise of her entitlement. But he would not stoop to her level.
He took a slow step toward her, his presence suffocating, his gaze piercing. Ariana involuntarily took a step back.
"This conversation is over," he said coldly.
Ariana opened her mouth to protest, but Darius raised a hand, silencing her with a single look. He did not need to say anything more.
Knowing she had lost this battle, Ariana swallowed her pride and curtsied stiffly. "As you wish, my king."
With that, she turned on her heel and left, her silk robes billowing behind her. But as she disappeared from sight, her expression twisted with resentment and determination. She would not be cast aside so easily. If King Darius thought this was over, he was gravely mistaken.
Darius stood alone in the garden, his chest rising and falling heavily as he fought to contain his anger. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to dispel the rage threatening to consume him. But it was no use.
He had been played like a pawn for far too long. It was time to take back control.
As he turned back toward the palace, his thoughts drifted to Odi. She had endured humiliation because of him. He had seen the fire in her eyes, the defiance in the way she carried herself despite being struck. She was strong.
And perhaps… she was the only one who truly understood him.