Claimed By The Tyrant King

Sabine shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She had been sitting beside Alaric, yet his gaze never shifted to her, not even once.

"Thank you, your majesty," Rosalind said to his compliment with a forced smile. Her eyes met his and the memory of his kiss made her stomach flutter unexpectedly.

"Let’s have dinner," Alaric said and Rosalind curtsied again before walking to her seat beside one of the mistress. Rowan had already pulled it out for her. She then settled into it and he stepped back to join the other servants.

The hall felt tense under Alaric’s presence as they ate and even the clinking of cutlery sounded careful to not piss him off.

Rosalind focused on her food as she had not eaten all day. Meanwhile, Alaric’s gaze was fixed on her as he ate.

While the other mistresses ate quietly, Sabine busied herself by serving Alaric without being asked. When she looked up, she traced his gaze to where Rosalind was. His attention was fixed entirely on Rosalind who ate carelessly. She wasn’t even elegant, so what did he see in her? Sabine wondered while clenching her spoon in frustration.

Alaric swallowed the last bite of his meal, his eyebrows pulling together slightly as he realized Rosalind hadn’t once glanced in his direction. Was the food truly that captivating, he wondered, or was she deliberately ignoring him?

He wanted her attention. "Rosalind," he called, breaking the silence.

Every head at the table turned, including Rosalind’s. She slowly shifted her gaze toward him while keeping her expression neutral.

"Come here," he commanded.

Rosalind glanced at the others around the table before focusing back on Alaric. "Don’t waste my time," he added curtly.

Quietly, she rose from her chair and walked toward him in slow steps but she found herself standing directly in front of the king.

Sabine watched in confusion. Was Alaric about to ask her to stand up for Rosalind? There was clearly no space for Rosalind to sit, yet the king had called her from her seat.

"Come and feed me grapes," Alaric said as his eyes locked on Rosalind.

"Your majesty?" Rosalind asked, her voice laced with confusion.

If he wanted grapes, why not eat them himself? Why make her do it?

"You heard me," Alaric said with a sharp gaze.

Before she could respond, he took her hand and spun her around. Rosalind’s eyes widened as the next moment found her sitting on his lap.

The hall went silent, interrupted only by the soft clatter of Sabine’s dropped spoon.

Alaric didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he didn’t care.

His arm curved around Rosalind’s waist, holding her perfectly still, and his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart race. "Grapes, Rosalind," he said, his voice smooth like honey sliding across her ears. Her toes curled again.

Swallowing hard, she turned toward the plate and picked up a grape with trembling fingers. Slowly, she lifted it to his lips. He parted them with his eyes still locked on hers and she slid it inside his mouth.

He closed his eyes and savoured it, then he opened his eyes and demanded for another, "More"

Her hands shook as she obeyed him. Rosalind cut and fed him the grapes one by one. His fingers tapped lightly against her waist and each touch sent a shiver through her.

She wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole.

Why was he putting her in this difficult position?

Sabine’s face turned red in embarrassment as she tried not to witness what was happening before her eyes. All of this was happening because of that wench Rosalind, she realized bitterly but she knew she couldn’t act out because Alaric would surely punish her.

The other mistresses watched in silence, while Verity quietly ate her meal with her gaze never leaving her plate.

Alaric leaned forward and selected a grape from the plate before bringing it to Rosalind himself. "Here," he said, his tone deceptively sweet. Rosalind’s cheeks turned red.

"I don’t like grapes," she muttered.

His eyes narrowed. "Are you allergic?" he asked softly while leaning closer to inspect her.

She shook her head. "Then I see no problem here, little one," he said with a sly smile. "I like grapes, and because I like them, you will like them too."

"..."

He placed the grape on her lips, and she had no choice but to part them. "Good of you," he murmured, as though she were the only person in the room. His hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and her body reacted before her mind could.

Why was he doing this in front of everyone? Rosalind thought to herself. If he didn’t care and was treating her like she was the only person here, she did care and he was making her wish that she were in the ground right now.

"Are you still upset about this morning?" he asked, his voice low and probing and her thoughts flickered to the commotion her letter had caused, the kiss, and the hug he had imposed upon her. Of course she was upset.

Rosalind shook her head.

Alaric’s gaze darkened. "Are you lying to me?"

She hesitated, then nodded slightly.

His eyebrows furrowed. "You’re lying?"

She shook her head.

"Speak with your mouth, Rosalind," he demanded, tightening his hold on her waist.

"Yes... I’m still upset about what happened," she admitted, and the corners of his mouth curved into a dark, satisfied smirk.

Leaning closer to her ear, he whispered, "Good. I have a way of making you happy."

Finally, he turned his attention to the other women in the room and said in a commanding voice. "All of you are dismissed, except for Rosalind."

The mistresses rose immediately, bowing their heads deeply before leaving without a word. Rosalind was left alone with Alaric with a thumping heart as she wondered what he wanted to do to her. She didn’t even dare to think of the way he planned to make her "happy".