Claimed By The Tyrant King

"I believe you possess something that belongs to me, Lady Verity," Alaric said coldly, his eyes narrowing toward the bowl of ashes clutched tightly in her arms.

Immediately the guards stepped forward to seize it from her.

Verity resisted instinctively, tightening her hold around the bowl, but she was no match for the guards. The ashes were ripped from her hands and returned to the king.

Then Alaric’s gaze slowly shifted toward Rosalind.

At once his jaw clenched as the memory of her betrayal returned to him vividly. He still had not dealt with her for what she had done with Rowan.

"I never granted you permission to leave your chamber," he said to her.

Rosalind lowered her gaze slightly, but her teeth remained clenched in silent anger.

Alaric then sighed as though already exhausted by all of them. "Everyone leave."

The women glanced at one another in surprise because they had fully expected punishment.

"Your punishment will come later," Alaric added calmly. "But for now, you are dismissed. All except Rosalind."

Rosalind’s heart tightened instantly as the guards began leading Verity and Thalia toward the exit while both women turned back one last time to look at Rosalind anxiously before the doors shut behind them.

Silence immediately swallowed the gallery once again.

Rosalind’s heartbeat thundered inside her chest as she realized she was now completely alone with him, and that meant Alaric could do absolutely anything he wished to her without interruption.

She slowly clenched her fists beside her.

Alaric walked silently toward the portrait, noticing that it hung slightly crooked from where it had been disturbed earlier.

"Aren’t you a clever little vixen," he murmured, his voice low and dangerously calm.

Rosalind watched him with a sharp gaze, "You truly believe I do not know what you and your little friends have been doing?" he continued while adjusting the portrait slowly back into place.

"Running through the palace looking for answers because of the nonsense a lowly footman dared to utter, taking advantage of my absence from public sight, sneaking into my private gallery..." He turned his head slightly toward her. "You must have found what you came searching for."

Rosalind swallowed hard. "I know he is the real king," she said finally.

Silence engulfed the hall first, then to her surprise, Alaric suddenly chuckled softly as though the situation amused him.

"So what if he is?" he asked before turning fully toward her.

Rosalind stared at him in disbelief. He had not even tried to deny it!?

"Then who are you?" she found herself asking.

"I am King Alaric of Eryndor," he replied smoothly while watching the confusion twisting across her face.

But that made no sense. There could not possibly be two kings.

"That’s a lie," Rosalind said immediately. "He’s alive. Rowan is still alive, so what exactly did you do?"

The fact that Rowan still breathed made everything clear now. Whatever had happened years ago had not happened naturally. Knowing the kind of man Alaric was, Rosalind could already guess the truth.

"Did you take the throne by force?" she asked, her voice tightening.

A smirk slowly spread across Alaric’s face, and the sight of it made Rosalind’s stomach twist violently. "I merely claimed what already belonged to me," he answered.

Rosalind felt anger rush through her veins at once.

So it was true.

He had stolen the throne and reduced the rightful king of Eryndor to nothing but a servant, forcing him into the role of a footman while he himself sat comfortably upon the crown that never belonged to him.

The injustice of it made her blood boil. "Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell everyone the truth?" Rosalind asked sharply.

But instead of fear, Alaric burst into laughter again.

The sound crawled beneath her skin.

"Tell everyone that the footman is the true king?" he repeated mockingly. "No one would believe you."

He stepped closer slowly. "I am their king. I hold the power, the throne, the loyalty of this kingdom, and you..." his eyes swept over her coldly, "you possess nothing. No proof, no influence, and certainly no dignity left for anyone to listen to."

Rosalind’s expression tightened instantly.

"And besides," he continued cruelly, "why would they believe the words of a whore spreading fantasies about a servant?"

The insult struck hard right into her chest and every bit of confidence she had gathered moments ago seemed to collapse inwardly.

Deep down she knew he was right about one thing. The entire palace likely already knew what had happened between her and Rowan, and people would mock her than believe her accusations against the king.

Alaric noticed the shift in her expression immediately, and satisfaction flickered briefly through his eyes.

That was the reaction he had wanted.

Rosalind forced herself to breathe steadily despite the humiliation burning through her chest. "But none of that changes the truth," she said finally while glaring directly at him. "You are still an usurper."

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Alaric stared at Rosalind for a moment before a cold smile slowly appeared on his lips. "And despite all of this," he said quietly, "he still never trusted you enough to tell you the truth."

Rosalind’s expression tightened. "He watched you fall in love with him while feeding you lies about who he was," Alaric continued calmly. "Tell me, Rosalind, did you ever truly know the man you spread your legs for?"

Rosalind’s breath caught sharply as tears now gathered in her eyes. "And the most amusing part?" Alaric added as he stepped closer. "You were risking your life for a man who already knew exactly what would happen to you if this truth ever came out."

Silence filled the room.

The tears Rosalind had fought desperately to hold back finally slipped down her face, and her chest ached with a kind of pain she had never known before.

Meanwhile, Alaric reveled in the sight of her breaking apart. Her tears and heartbreak only satisfied him more.

He wanted to destroy her emotionally before turning his attention fully to Rowan.

No torture had ever truly broken him, but now Rosalind was his weakness and Alaric intended to use that against him completely.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he raised a brow in amusement. "Perhaps it is time you stopped chasing answers through portraits and started hearing them from the person who lied to you directly."