As the girl exited Daniel's chamber, she unexpectedly ran into Lara, who immediately shot her a probing glare. With a tone as sharp as a blade, Lara interrogated her:
"What were you doing inside?"
A question so direct it struck at the heart of the matter. The girl, clearly flustered, responded in a halting voice:
"I was cleaning the room, my lady. Was that... wrong?"
Lara noticed the girl's disoriented state and the deflection posed by her response. Though the explanation rang true, suspicion lingered in Lara's gaze.
"Weren't you told not to enter that room again?" she asked sternly.
The maid's confusion deepened. "No, my lady. I was ill yesterday and missed the morning briefing with the head maid. No one informed me of any such order."
Upon hearing this, Lara let out a heavy sigh. "You may go. But do not step into that room again."
The girl bowed in obedience and hurried away. Lara remained still, immersed in thought. A long exhale escaped her lips as she muttered under her breath:
"Looks like I've grown older... and more prone to overthinking."
She turned, giving Daniel's door one final glance before walking away.
In a royal chamber bearing the charm of antique splendor—its heavy curtains warding off sunlight, preserving the solemn hush of darkness—Elena lay on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Lost in a maze of thoughts, three days had passed since she had lost her virginity. Though she had regained some strength, an inexplicable fatigue still clung to her body. Blaming Daniel for her condition, she cursed him silently, but her mind refused to settle. It kept returning to that fateful day, when the guards arrived at Daniel's room, and suspicion began to fester.
In a low voice, she whispered to herself:
"This can't be true… Why would Max involve me in something like this? I'm just a woman—I pose no threat to the throne. Is Daniel lying?"
Then the thoughts spiraled further:
"But why did my family question me? How did the guards know I was with Daniel? Was someone shadowing me the whole time?"
Elena was drowning in a whirlpool of doubt.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon took its throne amidst the waltzing stars, Queen Lina stood on her balcony. Her eyes scanned the rooftops of the city—structures carved from the sweat and labor of her people. Thoughts of the morning weighed heavy upon her. Daniel had forced her to choose, and now, they stood as adversaries.
Suddenly, two arms encircled her waist. A warm breath brushed against her cheek as a head rested gently on her shoulder. She didn't need to look; the scen —so unmistakably his—had reached her before he even touched her. Karis.
Still, the air between them was thick, laced with unspoken tension. Karis, eyes fixed on the horizon, finally broke the silence:
"You're not yourself tonight. Has something happened?"
He, who had shared years at her side, knew how to read her silence. He gave her time.
Turning her gaze to the stars that glimmered beyond the darkness, she spoke in a voice soft yet sharp, meant only for him:
"Today, I lashed Daniel until my hand burned. I wanted to see anguish in his eyes, to hear him scream, to watch him crumble at my feet. I longed for his pain to awaken something in me. But he didn't even flinch. He smiled. Then he offered me a choice—his death or his freedom. And now, tell me, does that bring you joy?"
Karis sank into a deep stillness. That resilience—it was exactly like Saka, his mother. She had died with a smile on her lips, even in torment. A pang of memory struck him, but it dissolved as Lina flicked his cheek, her eyes brimming with frustration.
"I bare my soul to you, and you smile like a fool?"
Karis laughed. "I never imagined this day would come—the indomitable Queen Lina, revered and feared, shaken by a boy who hasn't even awakened to his full strength."
His words, though biting, were not devoid of truth. Lina's frown deepened, but her eyes betrayed agreement. In a rare gesture of softness, she kissed his cheek.
Delighted, Karis seized the moment. He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss deepened, tongues and breath intertwined, his hands tracing the curves of her body. Moans muffled by desire echoed between them.
Overcome, Karis swept her into his arms and laid her upon the bed. Passion burned through the night; skin met skin, breath met breath, and beneath their fevered touch, winter's chill gave way to the fire of dawn.
By morning, sunlight scattered the shadows, sky turned blue, and the kingdom stirred. Citizens filled the streets; soldiers stood vigilant at the gates.
Deep within the palace's lower levels, where Daniel had been denied food for three days, he lay motionless, drifting in a state closer to coma than slumber.
Then—footsteps.
Lina entered.
She found him asleep, wounds from the whip covering his blood-soaked body. His garments, scorched and torn, clung to him in ruin. The remorse that had briefly visited her the day before was gone. In its place: satisfaction. Daniel was now beneath her. Bound. Broken. The prestige and power he once held—gone.
Even the royal family's fear of him had faded. Yet one thing remained—his aura.
That untamed, regal, and feral aura. Yesterday she had tried to crush it. She had failed.
But today—today she would obliterate it completely. She would break him.
She would make him kneel. And she would make him beg for death at her feet.