Claimed By The Tyrant King

Sabine’s face drained of colour. Her heart pounded so violently in her chest that for a moment she thought everyone in the hall could hear it. The meaning of everything struck her and words spilled out of her mouth in a desperate rush. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"I didn’t do it," she repeated, her eyes flying to Alaric’s face as if she could somehow make him believe her.

The king’s jaw tightened, and when his voice cut through the hall, it thundered against the walls.

"You dare lie to my face?"

At once Sabine dropped to her knees, the fabric of her gown bunching beneath trembling fists as her fingers clutched it so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"How do you still deny it when you’ve been caught?" he asked, his eyes narrowing into something dark and dangerous.

Sabine’s thoughts spiralled wildly as she searched for any possible way out of this.

She was stunned to even understand how karma had found her this quickly. She had hidden the box in Rosalind’s room herself, in the exact spot she had chosen, and no one had seen her do it, so how had it found its way back into her own chamber?

Had she somehow made a mistake and kept it in her room instead? No. It had been Rosalind’s room.

She was certain of it and that certainty was exactly what terrified her now.

"It wasn’t me. I would never steal from you," she said again, trying to reason with him, but then her gaze snapped toward Rosalind with sudden desperation. "I must have been framed. Rosalind must have framed me."

At that, Rosalind drew in a slow breath and turned to look at Sabine properly. She finally understood that this woman was not simply jealous of her. Sabine wanted her destroyed.

Because how could Sabine possibly accuse her of such a thing when they barely spoke to each other, and Rosalind neither had the time nor the reason to step into her room and plant something there?

The woman was truly losing her senses.

Even worse, Alaric himself clearly did not believe her, and Sabine saw that truth written plainly across his face, which only sent another wave of panic crashing through her.

Then suddenly another thought struck her.

She sprang up from her knees and hurried toward one of the mistresses. Thalia.

"Or was it you, Thalia?" Sabine demanded, her voice trembling. "When I returned, you weren’t in the room waiting for me."

Thalia looked at her with a flat stare, though the accusation clearly stung as her hands tightened at her sides. "I had to use the rest area," she replied coolly.

Frantically, Sabine spun toward the next person she could think of and stopped before Verity, grabbing her arm so tightly that her fingers dug into her skin. "Verity, was it you? You must still be angry because I said you should no longer be part of us, and that is why you planted it in my room, right?"

While Sabine threw accusations at everyone around her, Rowan remained behind Rosalind with the same unreadable expression he always wore, though in his mind the memory returned.

After leaving with Rosalind, she had been cold and he had gone back to retrieve her coat, only to find someone moving suspiciously around her chamber. So he had followed in silence and watched as Sabine slipped into the room and carefully hid something inside. After she left with the thought that she had achieved something, Rowan had gone in, retrieved the item from where she had hidden it, and kept it with him before taking Rosalind’s coat.

"Why did you take so long?" Rosalind had asked when he returned, her lips twitching faintly with annoyance.

But Rowan had given no answer as she slipped the coat on and they made their way toward the king’s quarters after Alaric had summoned her.

Later that night, once Rowan was certain everyone had gone to sleep, he had taken the opportunity and returned silently to the ladies’ quarters, slipping into Sabine’s room without a sound before planting the box in the exact place where she had hidden it in Rosalind’s room.

Just as he was about to leave, Sabine had suddenly sat upright in bed, and Rowan had gone completely still. Then she dropped back down again, still half-asleep, and Rowan left at once.

Now he watched her panic with that same straight face, as though he had not orchestrated every step of her downfall himself.

And Sabine did not suspect him in the slightest.

A frown settled over Verity’s face as she peeled Sabine’s hand off her arm and stepped back, while Sabine remained standing in the middle of the hall with panic written all over her features as she struggled to think of what to do next.

The only one who seemed to feel even the slightest pity for her was Claire.

The rest remained unmoved.

Even Thalia, who was always by Sabine’s side, looked visibly shocked by how quickly Sabine had been willing to throw blame at her, though she said nothing.

Alaric, who had clearly grown bored of the entire scene, let out a slow sigh before calling out, "Guards."

The single word sent fear rushing through Sabine.

Surely he wouldn’t truly punish her, she hoped.

She was his first mistress!

Sabine knew the usual punishment for stealing was the loss of a hand, and surely he would not leave her maimed because of this.

Yet even then, in the deepest part of her mind, she still blamed Rosalind.

"Drag the offender away and give her a good whipping," Alaric declared, his gaze fixed coldly on Sabine.

Without hesitation, the guards moved forward and seized her by the arms. "No... Your Majesty, please... you can’t do this to me," she begged, her voice breaking.

"You should be thankful that I’m generous enough not to deal with you the way I truly have in mind," Alaric said coldly, and then his gaze flicked toward Rosalind as the corner of his lips curled into a slow smirk.

"I’m still in a good mood."

Rosalind averted her gaze just as Alaric raised his hand, and the guards moved immediately to take Sabine away, her desperate pleas echoing through the hall and gradually fading into the distance.

Even after Sabine had been removed, the hall did not return to its usual calm. Alaric’s presence alone kept everyone tense, and as he began to walk forward slowly, the women instinctively lowered their heads.

He stopped directly in front of Rosalind.

Before she could step back, he lifted his hand and gently tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"It found its way back to you," he said, reaching for the pearl necklace and holding it so that she could see it clearly.

Then he moved closer. Rosalind’s breath caught slightly as he pulled her hair aside and fastened the necklace around her neck himself. The cold pearls pressed against her skin, and the faint brush of his fingers along the side of her neck made the fine hairs on her arms rise.

The pearls were beautiful, yet around her neck they felt less like a gift and more like a chain, as though he had found another way to mark her as his.

Leaning even closer, his lips brushed the edge of her ear as he spoke in a low, almost intimate voice. "Strangely, I find it easy to sleep when you’re around me. From today onward, you’ll only sleep with me."

A chill ran through Rosalind that had nothing to do with the necklace as the meaning of his words settled in her chest. Rosalind pulled back immediately, and his eyes narrowed sharply at her reaction.

"Your Majesty..." she began cautiously. "I can’t sleep well with someone around me."

She could hardly believe what he had just said. Now he expected her to sleep in his chamber? It felt as though he wanted to lock her with him permanently.

"I’m not just someone, Rosalind," Alaric said, his voice colder now, and for a moment, it seemed as if the rest of the room had disappeared, leaving them alone. "You can’t sleep well with someone around you? Then you’ll simply have to get used to it."

He spoke as if obedience were the only option, expecting her to accept it without question.

Rosalind frowned. She started again, "Your Majesty..."

Seeing the clear unhappiness on her face, Alaric decided, at least outwardly, to relent.

"Fine," he said, though the single word did not hide his displeasure. It was far from fine to him.

"You may continue staying in your quarters and sleeping alone, as long as you keep me company whenever I ask for it."

Rosalind gave a small nod.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than what he had first demanded.

"Also," Alaric added as he straightened, "there will be a ball in the next few days, and I would like you to surprise me with a great dance." His words allowed no room for argument as if she had no right to refuse him and for some reasons, the thought of standing before him in a crowded hall felt even more suffocating than being alone with him.