Chapter 13: Sake

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!!

Khari startled awake and rolled over in her bed, trying to ignore the loud and insistent knocking that echoed through her room. A chill crept in through the cracks of the doorframe, and she pulled her blanket up to her chin, hoping that if she stayed still, whoever was on the other side would go away. She resisted opening the door for several seconds, but the knocking didn’t stop. With a groan, she stumbled out of bed, rubbing her eyes and tucking her tangled hair behind her ears. She opened the door, the wood creaking in protest. A gust of cold air rushed in, carrying with it a strange smell and the sound of hurried footsteps entering the room. Khari closed the door behind her and faced the determined figure now standing in her living space.

The voice, muffled and slightly slurred, belched out the words, “How could you?” confusion and hurt laced the air like a fog.

She struggled to find her voice, “Prince Wren?” she asked, disbelief evident in her tone. He had never come to see her during the day, let alone this early in the morning. Her brow furrowed as she added, “What are you doing here?”

He stepped closer, almost looming over her, every line of his body tense with anger. “You call me Prince but address Azim by his first name?” he growled.

“I-I don’t understand,” she said, her skin goosebumping as he moved closer. She instinctually stepped back and asked, “Have you been drinking?” The smell of sake filled the air as he exhaled.

“Answer me,” he said, “How could you let Azim kiss you?”

Khari ignored the question, “Prince….”

“It’s Wren! You’ll call me Wren, same as you call him Azim,” his voice was tight and harsh.

She took a deep, steadying breath, her heart weighing heavy. She didn’t want to call him by his name in such an intimate way, “Wren,” she said, her voice soft but sad. “It’s early in the morning. Have you been out drinking since last night?”

“What does it matter? Do you know what you’ve done? What you do to me?” he said with a gentle tug. He pulled her closer, her body flush against his. His hands roamed across her back and up to her shoulders, holding her tight as he nuzzled her neck. He leaned in, and she felt his lips brush against her skin as he whispered, “I want you, Khari. I’ve always have.”

She shoved him away, and he stumbled backward. Tears filled her eyes, and her voice trembled with heartache as she spoke, “What kind of sick game are you playing?” she spat out, her voice shaking with rage. “We both know how you’ve treated me. I was unwanted, not needed, and unloved.”

He staggered, struggling to remain upright. His voice was thick and heavy with alcohol as he said, “I think I was too proud to tell myself the truth,” he exhaled, looking her up and down as he took in the perfection of her features. “I wanted you, but I feared what others might say. I’m supposed to be King—a near-perfect being. You were perfect in beauty, grace, and wit.” Swallowing his pride, he admitted, “I could easily see myself falling for you, so I fixated on the fact that you were blind to push you away,” he said, taking a deep breath. His drunkenness acted like a truth serum that he would dare not speak otherwise sober. “Every time I saw you, I fought my feelings. To put you down, maybe you would have enough and leave me. That would have been easiest.”

Khari felt her chest tighten and her mouth go dry as she listened to his confession. His words were like arrows, striking her with hurtful accuracy, but she refused to accept them as truth. She studied the intonation of his voice for signs of insincerity, but he was seemingly unaware of the effect his words were having on her. The only way to explain this sudden outpouring of emotion was the alcohol, which had clearly loosened his tongue.

He stepped into her personal space, his voice a low growl. His eyes were molten as he tried to get her attention. “But seeing you with Azim,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. “It made something in me snap. I can’t lose you to him. I won’t let him have you. You’re mine, Khari. Mine.”

“No,” she responded as a thousand memories of Wren’s cruelty swirled in her mind. He had been the one who had pushed her over the edge and caused her life to be extinguished. She tightened her jaw, and her voice was strong as she said, “You drove me to the brink of suicide with your blatant misuse and abuse. That is not love; that is pure, unadulterated hatred.” She was filled with conviction, and no matter what, she was determined to stand her ground.

He stepped closer to her, and his voice hitched as he spoke. “There’s a thin line between love and hate,” he paused, and his deep, honey-drenched voice softened to a whisper. “I think… I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

Khari let out a deep laugh, “Don’t even go there,” she said. “Your actions speak louder than your words ever will.”

The corners of Wren’s mouth dipped, and his eyes glistened. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath before speaking. “My words and actions were wrong,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “Please let me make it up to you.”

Khari’s eyes narrowed, and she shook her head slowly. Her tone was resigned but sad. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

Khari heard the rigid tapping of Azim’s shoes echoing in the hallway as he walked closer and closer to her bedroom door. She tried to steady her breathing and remain calm, but her heart raced with anticipation. When she heard the door creak open, she felt all the tightness leave her body as Azim walked in with a relieved expression on his face. “Khari,” he said softly, his voice radiating with noticeable relief that she was alright.

Wren’s jaw clenched as he rounded Khari, hands balled into fists. “No. Get out of here,” he said, his voice low and barely controlled.

Azim took a step back as the sour smell of sake hit his nostrils. He squinted at Wren, who swayed on his feet and had glassy eyes and red cheeks. “Are you drunk?” he asked, his voice part accusation and part worry.

Wren made a wide, wild swing at his brother, but his movements were slow and off-balance from the sake he had consumed. Azim ducked gracefully to the side, letting Wren’s arm pass by him harmlessly. With an unsteady wobble, Wren tried to stay on his feet, but his legs betrayed him, and he stumbled to the floor. His eyelids drooped shut as the alcohol caught up with him, and he lay crumpled in a drunken pile at Azim’s feet.

“What happened?” Khari strained to make out the cause of all the commotion as she heard the dull thud of something landing on the floor.

Azim stood in the center of the room and took a deep breath before responding, “He tried to punch me and took himself out.” He exhaled slowly before walking to the balcony doors, pushing them open with a loud creak. Azim stepped out onto the balcony and cupped his hands around his mouth. His voice echoed across the palace grounds as he let out two short whistles, followed by one long one. He stepped back inside, turning to face her, and asked softly with genuine concern, “Are you okay?”

Her head moved slowly up and down, and her eyes revealed a sense of awe. “How did you know...that he was here?” she whispered.

Azim’s expression grew serious, and he ran his thick fingers through his hair. “I have some of my men keeping an eye on you,” he said, his voice low and heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

She crossed her arms, “Yes, you should have,” she said, her voice cold. “I’m not sure if I like my privacy invaded like that,” Khari said.

Azim’s face softened as he looked at Khari, “They are the best reconnaissance soldiers in the battalion. They’ll watch over you from afar, keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of danger, and never once will you notice their presence. You have my word that they only wish to keep you safe.”

“I guess, in this case, it came in handy,” she said, feeling relieved. She laughed nervously, adding, “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Is there a soldier posted on my ceiling?” she gestured to the ceiling as if to emphasize her point.

“No,” he laughed, “no one is allowed to get that close to you…unless it’s me.” Like velvet, his voice was soothing and hypnotic, sending a tingle through Khari’s body. Before she could further contemplate what he said, she heard the sound of multiple footsteps approaching. Azim saw her fear and quickly added, “It’s my men coming to take Wren back to his room,” His hand came up to her shoulder and gently squeezed it in reassurance. “He’ll be fine,” Azim added before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see him to his room, in case anyone asks. You’ll be okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said.

He waited for his men to grab Wren before he walked out. “You’re welcome,” he said, leaving her room. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he shut the door. He stood motionless in the hallway, his gaze trained on the closed door. His heart raced, and he clenched his fists, willing himself to remain in control but failed. He chuckled as a warmth flooded his chest like a wave. He remembered the battles he’d fought, the villages he’d razed, and the soldiers he’d lost. But nothing compared to the fear and worry that had gripped his heart when he learned Wren was in Khari’s room. That was when he knew she had won his heart, and he would do anything to keep her safe.