Claimed By The Tyrant King

Rosalind walked across the halls of the palace with her footman right behind her.

Just that morning, she had been summoned by the king, and he had invited her to the gallery. Rosalind’s heart beat faster with each step she took as she was led to him. She had already been prepared, dressed in a beautiful flowing gown as usual, with gloves and her hair pinned into a slightly loose bun, while tendrils fell softly across her face.

Her footsteps slowed the moment she reached her destination, her hazel eyes immediately picking up on Alaric’s robe that stretched across the ground. He had one hand behind him, and when he noticed that she had paused behind him, he turned slightly and their gaze met. His lips stretched into a smirk, and her heart skipped a beat.

"My sweet rose," He said, admiring her beauty, and Rosalind swallowed, her cheeks turning pink despite herself.

Then Alaric began walking towards her in that perfect stride of his, and she couldn’t help but notice how magnificent he looked.

He was dressed in a dark blue robe, his hair perfectly combed back and falling smoothly behind him. The scent of his perfume reached her the moment he closed the distance between them. "I feel like it has been long since I last saw you," Alaric whispered as he reached for her hand.

Wasn’t it just a day?

Rosalind tried to smile through it. "Don’t you think so?" she heard him ask.

Rosalind only hummed in response, and she saw his smirk widen.

In the next moment, he leaned closer to her, his gaze shifting to her lips and she closed her eyes immediately.

Alaric’s eyes narrowed at Rosalind before he chuckled, and that was when she opened her eyes to see that he was still standing right where he had been.

Rosalind’s face reddened in embarrassment.

Why the hell had she looked like she was expecting him to kiss her? she thought inwardly.

But how was this even her fault when he looked like this and kept causing strange things to happen to her body?

"Let’s go, Rosalind," he said while holding her hand, and he began to lead her away.

As Rosalind followed Alaric, he began to talk. "The gallery is one of my favourite places. I’ve missed it and decided to come see it with you," he said to her.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Rosalind said, not knowing what other way to respond to that.

... Did he just say favourite place?

She didn’t want to go.

She still remembered the last time he had taken her to one of his favourite place...that arena. What she had seen there was bloody combat, and now she couldn’t even begin to imagine what existed inside the halls they were now walking into.

As the door opened, Rosalind stepped into a much cooler area, and she heard the door close behind them. She swallowed, feeling her stomach churn with unease as she followed Alaric further inside.

The tiles were polished, and huge chandeliers lined the hall as it stretched endlessly before them. The place was dimmer than the rest of the castle, and it was deathly quiet. Rosalind felt as though she would hear even a pin drop.

She felt the hair on her body stand. "Do you know what I keep in my gallery?" Alaric inquired, glancing at her.

"I wouldn’t know, Your Majesty," Rosalind responded quietly.

Alaric smiled. "I keep all of my achievements here, Rosalind," he said. "I’ll show you everything."

Rosalind wasn’t sure that was a good idea, especially as she was already beginning to see things she knew would haunt her at night. There was a long line of pillars, and on top of them were things she would rather not look at. One of them held a skull, with a large arrow still piercing through its head, and it looked as though it had been there for a very long time as spiders now crawled out of the mouth.

She looked at Alaric, who was smiling. What was he thinking by bringing her to this place?

There were rare artefacts glinting beneath the dim light, but there were also grotesque things scattered among them, things that made her quickly avert her gaze.

On some of the pillars were eyes and other parts of the body that seemed to have been preserved over time so that Alaric could keep returning to admire them, and Rosalind couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight.

Why was it that every time she had just finished eating, things like this happened? It was almost as if he wanted her to throw up everything she had eaten, and she placed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from doing exactly that.

She didn’t fail to catch the wicked glint in his eyes as he admired his achievements again and again, while Rosalind only felt sicker by the second.

Alaric suddenly snapped his fingers, bringing Rosalind out of her daze, and she jumped. She then let out a quiet breath, almost thankful that he wasn’t reading her thoughts at that moment.

"There’s my favourite. Come, little rose," he said, tugging at her hand as he pulled her towards one particular pillar. A carefully crafted bowl sat there. Rosalind read the description beneath it, and her brows pulled together.

"Ashes?" she inquired, turning to look at Alaric.

And he nodded casually while looking back at her with that same unsettling smile. "Let me tell you a small story, Rosalind," he started. Even though Rosalind didn’t want to hear it because she already knew it wouldn’t be anything good, Alaric continued regardless.

"There once was a princess who captured the attention of a king, and he would do everything to have her to himself. Unfortunately, there just had to be one small equation in the middle...a man the princess was in love with, and she was in love with him. He was a commoner. Tell me, my sweet rose, what could he possibly offer the princess that could ever be better than a king?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Rosalind wasn’t sure what exactly she was supposed to answer because she didn’t want to offend him. "Do you want an honest answer?" Rosalind inquired.

"Yes, little one," he answered, and she took in a deep breath before speaking. "Although he’s a commoner, he could offer her peace of mind. He could make her feel more loved and wanted than the king ever did, and maybe she doesn’t want the life the king has to offer, but rather a simple and quiet life where you can have a family and care for each other," Rosalind explained. "Some of us really like the simple things in life"

He listened to her speak, and when it felt like she was done, he simply shrugged off her words. "Words of someone who has never known power, Rosalind. That is how commoners think, and you shouldn’t be thinking like one."

His words hurt her but Rosalind tried not to show it. She bit the inside of her cheek. "You asked for an honest answer."

"Not a dumb one, Rosalind," Alaric continued, his voice a little colder than the sweetness it usually carried.

"A commoner cannot offer the protection that a king can. He cannot provide for her needs, and he surely cannot make her comfortable in the long run. All of these things matter, and love is just a fleeting feeling," he said.

Rosalind could only remain quiet, and Alaric picked up the story where he had left off. "Eventually, the king claimed her"

At first Rosalind had thought it was merely one of his cruel stories... something meant to unsettle her. But the more he spoke, the more she felt the hair on her body stand.

Rosalind didn’t think it was just a story, the more she thought about it. It felt real, like it had actually happened. And he had done it.

Alaric continued, "But what was truly stupid was that the commoner would never back down, and he was willing to fight for his love till the end of his life." Alaric chuckled as he recalled the exact way it had happened, and then he continued.

"The princess was to have nothing to do with the commoner as she had already been claimed by the king, but she proved stubborn by trying to reach out to their undying love. So the king simply removed the equation from the story so that he could be left with the princess alone. Can you guess what the king did to him?" Alaric asked Rosalind once again.

She shook her head.

"The king made sure he was tied in the middle of the village and accused him of a crime, so that what remained in the people’s hearts about him was hatred, even though he had been a very good man... you could say the princess was drawn to that." His lips curled.

"The people threw all kinds of filth, stones, eggs, you name it, while the princess was forced to watch and could do nothing but scream his name, and the commoner’s eyes were on her the whole time"

Rosalind felt her stomach twist.

"To put an end to their misery, the king ordered that he be set on fire, and he burned." Alaric’s eyes twinkled with amusement now.

"The princess screamed for every second that he cried out in agony, every moment that he wailed, and she wept too, but there was nothing to be done. And all the while, the king was laughing because he knew he would have the upper hand in the end. They should have simply let him have his way." Alaric ended with a laugh.

When he turned to look at Rosalind, he saw that a tear had slipped from her eye, and his brows pulled together. "What is it, my sweet rose? You don’t have to cry. Nothing is going to happen to our undying love," he said.

Rosalind could only stare at him in shock. He was clearly a madman. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Then his gaze turned to the bowl. "His ashes were collected to serve as a reminder to me," Alaric said.

A chill ran down Rosalind’s spine as her fingers curled into her palms so tightly that her nails bit into her skin.

She was certain now that the king in the story had been him. That was exactly the sort of thing a man like him would do. And she couldn’t help but feel pity for the princess and her lover.

Rosalind wanted to slap him, to knock that smile off his face, but she knew better than to even think of it.

"Why did he have to pick a fight he was certain to lose? Just look at how his life ended, and he was such a promising person." Alaric clicked his tongue. "To think that the woman he wanted to fight for all his life ended up becoming a whore."

"A whore?" Rosalind uttered, unable to believe that was what he called the princess whose love had been stolen from her.

As far as Rosalind was concerned, the woman must have been in so much pain, and the fact that she had survived it all without ending her life made her strong. Rosalind wasn’t sure she herself could be that strong.

"Yes," Alaric answered, his eyes narrowing.

"What was her name again?" he trailed off.

Then his lips curled.

"Verity, was it?" he said.