Chapter 235 Chapter 234
She kept her emotions under control, watching as the commander approached a nearby guard, who bowed in greeting at their return. "Where is the king?" she heard him ask.
"In the council room, commander. I hear he's throwing another banquet," the guard divulged with a look of displeasure.
"The king is throwing a feast when everyone else is suffering?!" the commander groaned, exasperated. The latter shrugged.
"Please, go and inform him that I have arrived with the spoils. Also that I've brought someone to him," he stated.
The guard nodded his head, walking away until he entered into a large door.
Rayena and Soraya exchanged glances, worry etched on their faces. A while later, the guard stepped out and walked toward them.
"He's requested for you to join him and bring the people to him."
"Very well." The commander turned back with a narrowed gaze. "Follow me," he ordered.
Rayena took in a deep breath while Soraya intertwined her hands with hers. Together, they followed after the commander as he led them into the council room.
A shocked gasp escaped Rayena's lips when she beheld the scene in front of her, and beside her, Soraya was stunned as well. Though the only royal court she'd ever been in was her father's when he formally invited her to listen to court proceedings, it was nothing like the ugly scene in front of her.
Despite the clear suffering and starvation Rayena had witnessed on her way to the palace, the court didn't reflect anything of the sort. Loud music played, and many women danced in the middle of the court, wearing scant clothing meant to seduce. A few nobles had even pulled women to their sides, doing debauched, absurd things with them.
Rayena's stomach lurched.
Her gaze moved to the dais, settling on the grand throne placed in the midst of it all. The man who sat so leisurely on it wasn't Xenon.
It couldn't be her Xenon.
Beneath him was another stool, perhaps reserved for his queen. The face of the figure seated there seemed familiar, but Rayena couldn't pinpoint it just yet.
"Jethro! I see you're back from your trip!" the man yelled into the crowd, and the noise reduced to a faint murmur as everyone's gaze turned to them. He languidly rose to his feet. "So, tell me, was it successful?"
"Yes, it was, Your Majesty," the commander answered, stepping forward as he delivered a small bow. "We've been able to gather enough food and gold. It should last us a couple of months, Your Majesty."
"That's splendid! Right at the nick of time!" he said, and the nobles around them cheered.
His gaze then flickered towards them, and a shiver ran down her spine, cold sweat breaking out of her back. "And who are these fair ladies you have with you?"
Jethro opened his mouth to introduce them, but the man lifted a hand to stop him.
“No. Let them speak for themselves.” Pinning them a glare, he added. "Introduce yourselves to this court."
Rayena stepped forward, keeping her head straight, shoulders straighter. With a calm, leveled voice that still cut through the crowd, she uttered. "My Name is Princess Rayena Atkins."
"I am Soraya Moonclaw." Soraya added beside her.
The imposter eyes widened, recognition flickering in them. "Rayena? The late King's Whore?" He asked, tone filled with amusement.
The court chuckled. A few women giggled maliciously. Rayena’s blood roared in her ears.
"Not his whore." Rayena said through clenched teeth, eyes blazing. "Mate. I am his Mate."
Dorian's eyes widened at the softly spoken yet steel-like words. His stare turned razor-sharp, lingering on her like a predator studying prey. When he spoke, his voice dipped into something colder, more dangerous.
“We’ll see about that.”
With a dismissive wave of his hand, he rose to his feet, slowly inching toward them. The crowd murmurs died down as they listened to what he had to say.
“Do you know we've been looking for you?” he asked, the crowd around him parting to make way toward her.
Rayena swallowed, releasing a small breath. “The commander made it known to me. Why is that?” she asked, her gaze unwavering.
He shrugged, glancing around him. “A myriad of reasons, really. We had originally wanted to execute you along with the late king but soon learned he’d helped you escape,” he revealed, stopping just a few meters away from her now.
Something dark flickered in his eyes—recognition, hunger, cruelty sharpened into interest. Rayena felt a cold sweat break along her spine.
“Do you want to do that now?” she asked, thankful her voice was still calm.
“Quite the opposite,” he revealed with a sneer, circling her like a predator does its prey, his eyes glimmering maliciously. He picked up strands of her hair, bringing them to his nose and taking a whiff. Rayena shrank away from him. “I've discovered I have another use for you.”
His unnerving gaze settled on her, and Rayena's pulse thundered in her ears. The meaning implied in those words was starting to make her sick.
“I'm thankful I didn’t have to chase you to the ends of the earth.” Turning to the crowd, he announced in a loud voice, “The two of you will be taken to my harem, become my mistresses, and bear my child.”
Giving her a sideways glance, he muttered under his breath, “You were able to get pregnant for that miscreant. Getting pregnant for me shouldn’t be hard.” He seethed, eyes flashing.
“What?” Soraya said in a startled gasp.
“Over my dead body,” Rayena spat, vitriol burning in her blood.
“That can be easily arranged,” he whispered as he grabbed hold of her neck, almost cutting off her breath. He brought her face closer to his, and Rayena grimaced at the sickening smell of alcohol on his breath. “But that will happen after you've given me my heir. Understood?”
The king’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for her to see the truth behind his mask: He saw her as a threat. And threats were things this man enjoyed breaking.
Without waiting for a response, he pushed her away, and Rayena stumbled back, almost losing her footing. Soraya caught her, steadying her.
“That would be all. Let the festivities continue!” he roared, and cheers followed the announcement. Rayena looked on in a daze, her heart hammering in her chest.
Oh, this man was deranged. Completely, utterly deranged.