CHAPTER 34-More Wives For Kyrous

***Kyrous’s POV.***

"Cease this folly, James," I spoke with an air of calm, my voice cool yet unwavering. I took a deep draught from the goblet, its fiery contents stoking a warmth within my chest that I refused to acknowledge. "You, of all men, should know my nature. I am not a man bound to a single woman, never have I been so. The only reason I’ve tempered my desires is that I needed the crown upon my brow."

I held James’ gaze firmly, my best friend and trusted right-hand man, who, despite his loyalty, seemed bent on dissuading me from my course of action. He, ever the voice of reason, was cautious—too cautious for my tastes.

"Are you well, Kyrous? Do you truly comprehend the weight of your words?" he spoke, his brow furrowed in concern. "Polygamy is not a matter to take pride in. Many great men have fallen due to their indulgence in the affections of many women. Are you willing to walk that path?"

James’ voice trembled with earnest worry, yet I remained unmoved, his words no more than a fleeting breeze. In my heart, my desire burned brighter than any caution he might offer. My purpose was set, my mind unwavering. 

“Are you jesting, James? What think you will be Lucinda’s reaction when she learns of this?" His words pierced my thoughts, and I turned my gaze to him, slightly amused by his concern. "Do you truly believe I will be deterred by her opinions? She is but one woman, and I have a kingdom to rule. Should she frown, I shall simply have to ensure she knows her place." 

He was right in one thing: Lucinda was possessive. She loathed the very thought of another woman in my presence. Yet, I was king, and my desires came first. It was the burden of sovereignty to seek what I wanted, and it was my right to choose my path.

"Kyrous, you are the fool! What will you say to her? How do you think she will receive such a declaration?" James' tone had shifted to one of disbelief, his voice trembling with urgency. "She will not tolerate this, not lightly. Do you wish to break her heart, to make her the laughingstock of all the kingdom? She despises competition, and she will suffer for it."

His words, though heavy, held no power over me. I had made up my mind. There would be no turning back.

"Perhaps if she had borne me a son, I might have considered her position more carefully," I responded callously, my voice devoid of empathy. "But, as it stands, she must accept what is to come. She will remain the Luna, of course, but she must share that title with others. I will have two wives, maybe more, and she will make room for them. Let her prepare the chambers."

“Kyrous, no!” James cried, his hand on my arm, as though he could stop me from my path. "This is madness! Do you not see the ruin it will bring?"

"I am King Kyrous Achilles Frances VII," I declared, my voice rising in authority, my chest swelling with pride. "I answer to none but myself. I shall take as many wives as I see fit, and I will ensure that the finest women of this kingdom are presented to me. You will gather all the daughters of nobility, the fairest and most curvy, and bring them before me at the burning fire. I will choose those who please my eye. No more, no less."

My words hung in the air, charged with the power of my station. No man would dare question my authority. The joy of it filled me—my desire would be fulfilled, and none would stand in my way.

“If this is what you desire, my King, I will do as you command," James relented, his tone tinged with reluctance. "You are right. The women of the realm will undoubtedly rejoice at the chance to serve royalty.”

In the days that followed, word of my decree spread like wildfire across the land. A great spectacle was soon to be held, and all the firstborn daughters of the nobility flocked to it, eager to catch the eye of their king. Even those of lesser status, daughters of merchants and soldiers, hoped for a chance at the glory of royal favor. 

Lucinda, however, was far from pleased. I had expected her wrath, but nothing prepared me for the fury she would unleash. One morning, as I dined at my table, she stormed in, holding a parchment—the official notice I had sent out. Her face was flushed with rage, and her eyes glowed with an intensity that spoke of the anger she was trying to keep at bay.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice sharp and filled with contempt. "What manner of humiliation is this? How dare you announce your intentions in such a public manner?”

"Ah, Lucinda, my love," I said, taking another bite of my breakfast, unaffected by her presence. "Good morning to you as well. Please, join me if you wish. The meal is quite splendid this morning."

Her face reddened with fury, her fists clenched at her sides. "Do you mock me, Kyrous? Is this some jest, some cruel game to test my patience?" she barked, her voice cracking with emotion. "How could you do this to me? To us? Do you have no heart?"

Her words struck at nothing. The weight of her suffering mattered not to me. I had made my choice, and I would see it through.

“I am a king, Lucinda,” I said with cold finality, not sparing her a glance. "I will do as I please, and if this brings you sorrow, then so be it. I will take more wives. And you will have to learn to accept it."

Her face crumpled, tears began to spill from her eyes, yet I remained unmoved. "You will make a mockery of me!" she sobbed, her voice barely audible. "They already laugh at me behind my back, whispering that I am not enough. Do you think you can make a fool of me before all the kingdom?”

"Perhaps if you had borne me a son, I might have considered your place more carefully," I repeated, the words like daggers. "But now, you will either share your position with others or leave. The choice is yours. Prepare yourself to welcome your new co-wives. You will learn to accept them."

She could say nothing. The tears flowed freely, yet she held her silence, turning on her heel and fleeing from the room. I knew I had made the right choice. Lucinda would bend, as all women did before the might of a king.

\---

The days grew tense as the date of the gathering approached. Over two thousand women stood before me, all eager for their chance at royal favor. They came in every shade of beauty—some with skin like porcelain, others with sun-kissed hues that glistened in the light. Their eyes sparkled with anticipation, their perfume wafting in the air so thick that my senses dulled beneath its weight. 

I wore a mask to shield myself from the overpowering scents. My task was clear: choose two. But as I walked past them, my decision grew more difficult with each step. What started as a simple selection had turned into an overwhelming challenge. For every woman I thought was perfect, there were ten more who surpassed her.

Two weeks passed before I made my choice. The ritual had stretched on far longer than I had anticipated, and my body felt drained by the sheer weight of it all. I was numb. The royal ceremonies were delayed, as I required time to recover from the strain of it all.

At long last, the day of the final ritual arrived—the blessing from Lucinda, the Luna. With a heart heavy with unspoken grief, she emerged from the chambers, her face swollen from the tears she had shed in private. She held the sacred oils, prepared to wash the feet of the new brides, to prepare them for their place beside me.

Lucinda approached the first woman, and the crowd cheered as she unveiled the bride’s face. The ceremony proceeded smoothly until Lucinda reached the second bride. As she lifted the veil, her hand froze mid-air, and a strangled gasp escaped her lips. She stumbled backwards, her heart caught in her throat. The woman before her was none other than her closest confidante, her best friend, Jael.

“What?” Lucinda’s voice barely made it past the lump in her throat. Her gaze met mine, and tears spilt from her eyes. 

Her worst nightmare had come true.