Claimed By The Tyrant King

Just as she expected, Rosalind found herself unable to sleep that night.

Every time she dozed off and tried to drift into sleep, the echoes of earlier returned. The shouting, the clash of swords, the images of bodies being cut down and blood spilling everywhere, and the worst one of all, the haunting image of Alaric’s unsettling smile. All of them made it impossible for her to find peace.

Her heart thumped painfully against her chest as she stared at the door, she had secured it once again, yet she remained restless.

She could only hope that God would protect her for as long as she remained here until her father came to take her away.

She prayed that he would receive her letter and come for her, that he would not fail her this time.

Rosalind turned on the bed. The duvet was soft and warm against her body, yet the coldness of the stone walls seemed to seep into her bones, keeping sleep far away from her.

Rosalind was scared and the only thing she could do in that moment was hum softly to herself, hoping it would lull her into rest, so she started humming a quiet tune she did not fully remember. It was one she always found herself humming whenever she was afraid and it had always worked before, even back at home.

Rosalind continued to hum as the minutes passed as she silently wished for the dark sky to give way to morning, because the night felt far too long.

When morning finally came, sunlight spilled through the curtains and Rosalind was still laying on the bed. She hadn’t slept enough, although she had managed to get a little rest at some point, it still wasn’t nearly enough.

Suddenly, a harsh knock sounded on the door, forcing her to wake up. Rosalind jolted upright, her breath caught as she tried to steady herself. She thought of ignoring it just as she had done before while hoping it would go away, but the knock only grew louder.

"My lady, you need to open the door or it will be cut down," a gruff voice called from outside, and her heart leapt in fear. Then another knock came again and it was even harsher than before.

Her hair had fallen over her face and her eyes darkened from lack of sleep, but she forced herself out of bed as she moved toward the door before carefully peering through the peephole. Her heart stumbled when she saw the guards standing outside.

What had happened? Had the king already found out, and now they had come to drag her to the dungeon? The thought made her stomach twist.

"Please open the door or do not blame us for what comes next," another guard warned, his stance was firm and he seemed ready to break it down at any moment.

Rosalind swallowed hard as she pushed the cupboard away once more and unlocked the door with trembling hands. When she opened it, she felt small under the hardened gazes of the guards, dressed in their uniforms with swords at their sides, and her throat went dry. "By order of the king, you have been summoned to face your punishment."

"Punishment?" Rosalind repeated, her heart pounding violently against her chest.

So she had really been caught... but this quickly? She had thought she was careful enough the night before when she slipped out to drop the letter.

She should have known better because nothing escaped King Alaric.

"Yes, my lady, so please come with us," the guard said and then signalled to the others, who stepped forward immediately and took hold of her and started leading her away.

Rosalind could not resist because she was too stunned, her thoughts raced as she tried to understand what to do.

If Alaric had indeed discovered the letter, then she needed another plan, because she could not face whatever punishment he had in mind, it would be nothing short of cruel.

They led her through the halls, and she felt the eyes of the servants on her as they watched her being taken away by the royal guards. Rosalind tried to steady herself, even as her heart climbed up her throat. She had to think and stay calm.

When they entered the main hall, the guards forced Rosalind down to the ground like a criminal. She held her breath as her gaze lifted to Alaric seated on his throne. He was flawless as ever with his hair perfectly arranged and not a single strand was out of place. His robe seemed immaculate and his gloves fitted perfectly. The ruby ring caught the light.

...And in his hand was her letter.

He had indeed found it!

That same sickening smile rested on his lips, tightening her stomach into knots.

Her gaze shifted briefly, and she saw the other mistresses gathered there as well. He had summoned them too. Why?

Her eyes locked on the blonde woman whose expression held clear amusement, as though she was pleased by what was unfolding. Sabine.

"Rosalind," Alaric called sharply, and she forced her attention back to him. He did not like being ignored, and now that her gaze returned to him, his lips curled into a darker, more dangerous smile.

Rosalind lowered her head, knowing it was expected. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice trembling slightly as her fists clenched at her sides. She was forcing herself to remain calm.

"Do you know why you have been brought here?" he questioned, and Rosalind shook her head as though she truly did not know.

Alaric’s smirk deepened. Without another word, he tossed the paper in his hand onto the ground.

The wind carried it toward her, and Rosalind closed her eyes briefly, biting down on her lip in shame as she recognized it immediately. It was the same letter she had written in her own handwriting, addressed to her father.

Now it made sense why she had been summoned and why he intended to punish her.

"Do you recall now?" he asked.

Slowly, Rosalind nodded, and Alaric seemed satisfied at the sight of her submission. She was not foolish enough to deny it when she had been caught. "Now pick that up and read it aloud to everyone," he ordered with the intention to humiliate her clear in his tone.

Rosalind lifted her gaze to him in hesitation. He arched a brow in response. "Do not keep me waiting," he added after a moment.

She leaned forward to retrieve the letter, her eyes briefly catching the mistresses, some of them snickering behind their hands while others remained silent with a tense expression. Sabine was among them with a look of clear amusement.

Rosalind swallowed the lump forming in her throat before looking back at Alaric, who smiled at her in a way that made her stomach twist, and then she lowered her eyes to the letter once more.

She hesitated again, glancing up at him, but the darkness that had settled in his eyes made her continue. "Father... If... if there is any part of you that still considers me your daughter..." she began in an unsteady voice.

When she paused, Alaric’s voice cut through sharply, "I did not ask you to stop."

She swallowed. "...This place is not what you think it is, the king is far worse than what they say..." she continued, her gaze flickering toward him, only to find his smirk deepen, as if he found the words amusing rather than offensive.

Rosalind kept reading, her own voice echoing in her ears as her heart pounded relentlessly, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt a small, bitter relief that she had not insulted him more directly, because that would have made this even worse. Still, this was already bad enough. "Please come for me... Your daughter, Rosalind," she finished quietly.

Alaric rose to his full height, and the faint laughter from Sabine died instantly as the others lowered their heads. He began to walk toward Rosalind with slow steps.

She forced herself to keep her head lowered while her heart raced uncontrollably. When he stopped before her, the familiar scent of sandalwood surrounded her and it seemed stronger now that he was so close, suffocating her in a way that made her want to disappear into the ground.

He leaned down, lifting her chin with a single finger so that she could meet his gaze. She swallowed again. "Why did you send the letter?" he asked.

Rosalind said nothing at first.

"And do not even think about lying to me," he added, his voice low and dangerous, "or I will have the hand you used to write it cut off."

Her lips parted. "I am not happy here... I want to go home," she said in a barely steady voice.

"Is that so?" he raised a brow. "So you believe you can defy me by writing a letter, and sending it without my permission?"

Rosalind held his gaze, even as fear tightened around her chest. "There was no rule that said I could not write one," she replied.

His eyes narrowed slightly. That was true, he had not said it, but the fact that she had taken advantage of that irritated him more than if she had openly disobeyed.

"What exactly were you thinking, Rosalind?" he continued, dropping his hand as his gaze bored into hers. "That if you sent this letter, Calder would come rushing back to take you and return the gold?" he asked, letting out a short laugh before stepping closer again. "As a matter of fact, Your father doesn’t have any debt to clear. He handed you over willingly."