Claimed By The Tyrant King

Rosalind walked across the carpet that stretched all the way to the throne, and she could feel everyone’s eyes burning into her from every corner of the ballroom, but she kept every bit of her composure and refused to look their way until she had finally arrived before Alaric.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," she said with a graceful curtsy.

Alaric’s lips slowly curved into a pleased smile. "My beautiful rose," he murmured, stretching his hand forward for her to kiss, and slowly Rosalind ascended the few steps leading to the throne and pressed her lips against the ruby ring there glinting beneath the chandelier light.

"I feel as though the entire party has only just come alive," he said, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Until you arrived, everything was darkness. You brought your light into it."

The words made Rosalind’s cheeks warm despite herself. It felt awkward being praised so openly with nobles all around them, yet the softness in his voice still stirred something uneasy in her chest.

From the side, Sabine rolled her eyes, forcing herself to remain patient because tonight, if all went according to plan, would be Rosalind’s last.

Rosalind dipped into another curtsy as she made to step but Alaric caught her hand.

"Dance with me, Rosalind," he said, and without waiting for an answer, he led her down toward the dance floor, the gathered nobles immediately parting to make way for their king.

The music that had been playing came to a gentle stop before another melody rose in its place, slower and far more intimate, and Alaric stretched out his hand for her.

Rosalind hesitated only for a moment before placing hers in it, and her breath caught when his other hand settled at her waist and drew her closer. Her free hand instinctively found his shoulder, and then he took the first step, guiding her onto the polished floor while she followed his lead. "I saved this dance for you," Alaric said as he moved with effortless grace.

Rosalind forced a polite smile. It was not as if she had asked him to save it for her.

He could dance with anyone else for all she cared.

Alaric then tilted his head, studying her carefully. "I have to admit, Rosalind... the dress looks magnificent." His gaze moved over her slowly before his lips curled faintly. "Perhaps it is because it is on you. That is why it fits so perfectly. You look splendid."

Rosalind drew in a careful breath. "Thank you, my lord,"

His brows lifted. "And what about me?"

Rosalind blinked in confusion. "You?"

Alaric nodded, amusement glinting in his pale eyes. "How do I look?" he asked.

Only then did Rosalind truly look at him. He had always been strikingly handsome, always draped in robes so rich and luxurious they seemed almost too fine to touch, but tonight there was something different. He was dressed in deep crimson, a dark red that mirrored the ruby at his finger, and the gemstones sewn into the fabric caught the chandelier light and shimmered with every movement.

The rich color made his blue eyes appear darker, more intense, and when his lashes lowered and lifted again, something about the sight made her swallow. "You look good" she said at last.

Immediately, one of his brows arched, and the look on his face made it obvious the word had disappointed him.

He clicked his tongue as he led her into a smooth turn before pulling her back against him. "You are terrible at giving compliments," he said, sounding almost offended.

Rosalind nearly sighed, but as quickly as the disappointment had appeared, it vanished and his expression brightened again. "But I shall teach you, Rosalind," he said, almost fondly, before letting out a dramatic sigh. "As you seem to be lacking in quite a lot of things."

Rosalind pressed her lips together.

"By the way, Rosalind," he interrupted sweetly, his voice flowing into her ears like honey, "I think we should spice up our relationship a little more, don’t you?"

Heat immediately crawled up her neck. "Spice... how?" she asked carefully.

Everything they had done felt more than enough, and the strange gleam in his eyes made her uneasy.

Alaric clearly saw the flicker of fear in her gaze, and his expression softened just slightly "In order not to frighten my little rose," he murmured, "I must ease you into it."

Rosalind’s stomach tightened.

"Why don’t you start by calling my name?" he said.

Her eyes widened in shock. "W-What?"

He gave her an encouraging nod, but Rosalind’s gaze narrowed at once. Surely this was a trap. What if she did as he asked, only for him to accuse her of disrespect afterward?

It was exactly the sort of cruel game a king like him might play, and the thought alone made her heart begin to pound harder in her chest.

"Yes, Rosalind," he drawled.

"I... can’t," she said quickly.

His expression hardened instantly, and she felt the temperature around them drop. "I order you to."

"You can’t possibly..." Rosalind started, refusing to step deeper into this mess, but he cut her off with a freezing look.

"You will call me by my name, Rosalind," he said, his voice turning colder now.

From the corner of her eyes, she looked around the hall as if silently begging for help, but no one was looking at her, everyone was oblivious to the tension unfolding right in the middle of the dance floor, as if she and Alaric were the only ones there.

Her gaze returned to him, and his expression had not softened in the slightest, making a shiver run down her spine as she swallowed hard and finally forced the words out in a rush, "A... Alaric."

Her heart jumped immediately after saying it, especially when he continued to stare at her with that same unreadable, sharp expression.

It couldn’t be that he had set her up...

But the next second, his lips curved into a smile, and she exhaled in relief without realizing she had been holding her breath.

"That’s just the first step," he said, his eyes darkening as his grip on her waist tightened just enough to send a strange flutter through her stomach. "Now say it with a moan to it," he whispered against her ear.

Had he lost his mind? Rosalind screamed inwardly, her fingers tightening against his hand as heat rushed up her cheeks. "I’m waiting, Rosalind," he added impatiently.

"I don’t know how to do that," she admitted.

"Oh, you do," he replied with a faint smirk, then leaned in slightly as if teaching her. "Bite your lower lip gently... and try to make a sound."

Rosalind’s brows knitted together in disbelief.

Not in front of all these people... This man was truly going to ruin her!

Still, she had no choice. Swallowing hard, she bit down gently on her lower lip and, following his instruction, let out a small sound, an "o" slipping out before she could stop it, and her eyes widened instantly in shock at how it sounded as she quickly clamped her mouth shut again.

A low chuckle escaped Alaric’s lips. He looked at Rosalind, pleased. She looked so innocent, he thought, almost painfully so... and it only made him want to blur the line between innocence and ruin even more.

Rosalind, meanwhile, was scanning the hall in panic, making sure no one had noticed what she had just done, because in every sense of the word, it was improper for a lady, and it was entirely his fault. Her face burned deeper with every passing second.

"Now say my name with that tone, little one," he said, refusing to let her off the hook.

Oh God... maybe she should just disappear.

Why was she cursed with this man?

"Alaric," she tried again, softer this time, biting her lip as she spoke, but it came out uneven, almost muffled.

He shook his head.

"A... Laric," she attempted next, more carefully, but again he didn’t approve.

Rosalind’s frustration burned inside her.

ALARIC, DAMN IT!!! she thought fiercely.

She didn’t dare say it aloud, If she did, people would definitely notice something strange on the dance floor. But why was the music taking so long to end?

Why was everything working against her tonight?

"One last time, Rosalind," he said.

His hand slid slightly along her back, pulling her closer as if anchoring her in place. Her breath hitched as the distance between them vanished.

"A... Alaric," she finally managed, the sound trembling as warmth flooded her face and body all at once.

"That’s it," he said with a satisfied smile. "Now learn it well... you’ll be saying it a lot tonight after the ball."

As if on cue, the music began to slow and fade, signaling the end of their dance.

Rosalind quickly stepped back and dipped into a bow, her heart still racing wildly, and when she lifted her gaze, he was already looking at her with that familiar smirk. Then he gave her a wink that nearly sent her to an early grave before turning away and walking off as if he hadn’t just ruined her entire composure.