Chapter 84: Burden

Chapter 84: Burden
"Azeth, no!" Misarya gasped, the shock finally breaking her paralysis. "Release!"

The massive black wolf instantly let go, stepping back, though a low, vibrating growl remained in his throat. His muzzle was stained crimson. Maya collapsed entirely into the dirt, clutching her maimed arm against her chest, sobbing hysterically.

People rushed forward, a mix of off-duty guards and women, their faces pale with shock. Maya writhed in the dust, her face streaked with tears and dirt, pointing a shaking, bloody finger at the Halendarian Queen. "She ordered it!" Maya screamed, her voice cracking with pain. "She ordered her wolf to attack me! I did nothing!"

Misarya stood frozen, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She hadn't ordered it. She hadn't said a word. But before she could even defend herself, the crowd was violently shoved aside.

Jarek burst into the clearing. The scarred general took one look at his sister bleeding in the dirt, and his face twisted into a mask of pure, lethal fury. He marched straight toward Misarya, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his blade. Azeth immediately stepped between them, barking viciously at the general.

"Did you order your fucking wolf to attack my sister!?" Jarek bellowed, towering over Misarya, his voice loud enough to shake the surrounding tents. He didn't wait for her answer, glaring down at the snarling beast. "That wolf needs to be put down immediately!"

Something inside Misarya snapped.

The fear, the constant walking on eggshells, the desperate attempts to be small and agreeable so she wouldn't be hurt—it all evaporated. In its place rose a pure, unadulterated, boiling rage. She didn't shrink away from the massive Askari general. She didn't cower. She stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her snarling beast, and looked the general dead in the eye.

"I might not be wearing my crown, but I am still your Queen, and you will address me as such!" Misarya screamed, the valley fire erupting with such absolute, commanding force that Jarek actually stopped in his tracks.

The crowd around them instantly fell dead silent. Even Maya’s theatrical wails seemed to tone down into frightened whimpers.

Misarya looked around at the circle of Askari faces, her body shaking with adrenaline, her voice ringing out clear and lethal.

"Your sister, who was supposed to behave as my companion, made false claims about me and actively disrespected me," Misarya said, her lilac eyes burning into Jarek's. "You should feel lucky. I should have ordered Azeth to go for her throat when she belittled me and questioned both my authority and my position!"

She took another step forward, her chin raised high, owning every inch of the space she stood in. "Yes, I am not of Askari blood. But I was chosen by the Dragon King himself to be Queen. Those who question it are nothing but traitors who deserve death." She cast a cold, detached look down at Maya’s bleeding arm. "This was a warning."

Suddenly, the silent crowd parted like a severed sea.

The Dragon King strode into the clearing. His massive presence instantly sucked the air from the space. His golden eyes swept over the blood in the dirt, the snarling wolf, the furious general, and finally landed on his shaking, defiant wife.

"What is going on here?" Ikarion demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

Misarya looked at Jarek, her expression entirely unyielding, silently daring him to do his best.

"Your wife ordered her wolf to attack my sister," Jarek ground out, his jaw tight as he looked at his King.

"And why is that?" Ikarion asked smoothly, his gaze never leaving Misarya.

"She claims Maya disrespected her," Jarek said, gesturing to the bleeding girl on the ground.

“Did she?”

"Do you seriously believe this, my King? Look at Maya, she is badly wounded! Over some bullshit—"

"If the Queen was disrespected, she is entitled to react," Ikarion cut him off, his voice absolute steel. He turned his full attention to Misarya. "What did she say?"

Misarya didn't blink. "She called me a barren burden. And she told me you were actively trying to get rid of me."

Ikarion’s eyes darkened to molten gold. He slowly turned his massive head to look at Jarek. The air grew terrifyingly cold.

"Your sister should learn to control her tongue," the Dragon King said softly.

"Ikarion—" Jarek tried to argue, his pride warring with his loyalty.

"Bring her to the healer's tent," Misarya interrupted, her voice cutting through the general's protest like a blade. She looked down at Maya with absolute, aristocratic disdain. "I will heal her wounds myself. And I do not ever want to see her near my household again."

The world seemed to stand entirely still for a long, agonizing moment as the Askari absorbed the sheer, undeniable authority of the valley girl.

"You heard her!" Ikarion suddenly shouted, his booming voice shattering the silence. "This is over. Move!"

The crowd instantly scrambled. Two women rushed forward to help Maya to her feet, dragging the weeping girl toward the healer's tents, while the rest of the onlookers quickly dispersed, not wanting to catch the King's ire.

When they were finally alone in the clearing, Misarya let out a long, shuddering breath, the adrenaline slowly leaving her veins. She looked up at Ikarion.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Ikarion looked down at her, his expression hardening. "You shouldn't have done that."

Misarya blinked, confused and immediately hurt by his harsh, sudden tone. "I know... Azeth was faster than me. He probably noticed I felt—"

"What you feel doesn't matter," Ikarion snapped coldly. "Control your wolf, or I'll have to put it down."

Misarya flinched as if he had struck her. "I'm sorry," she stammered, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "I really tried to tolerate her as a favor to Jarek-Kai and his family like you told me... But she has been disrespecting me ever since I took her in. I was avoiding her as best as I could, but..."

Ikarion looked at her face, seeing the raw, swirling mix of hurt, confusion, and lingering adrenaline. On the inside, he was roaring with pride. He had heard her speaking to the crowd. He had seen her stand up to one of his most lethal generals without a shred of fear. As a Riven-blood bastard who had been forced to claim his crown through blood, he knew exactly what it took to demand respect from people who hated you. That was exactly what she had just done—she had warned everyone that despite being halendarian, despite her lack of physical strength, despite her gentle nature, she was still their Queen.

He was trying to be harsh. He was trying to scold her, to sting her heart, just to test the bounds of the prophecy. He waited for a sudden gust of wind, or a drop of rain falling from a clear sky, waiting to see if her sudden sorrow would shift the earth.

But it felt like a lie. It felt like a deep, sickening dishonor to punish her when she had done exactly what an Askari Queen should do. She was right, and he was profoundly, overwhelmingly proud of her. The Dragon King found that he simply could not pretend to be the monster anymore.

Ikarion let out a heavy sigh, the coldness dropping from his shoulders. "Go heal her wounds. Show the people you can be merciful."

"Of course, my King," Misarya said softly, still looking down.

Ikarion immediately regretted his sharp words. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

"What she said is a lie," Ikarion said, his voice dropping to a gentle, fierce rumble. "You know that, right?"

Misarya looked up, a small, sad smile touching her lips. "Well... You did tell me you would send me away to keep me safe..."

"That's right," Ikarion agreed immediately. "To keep you safe. Not to get rid of you."

Misarya’s smile faltered, her lilac eyes filling with a quiet, devastating vulnerability. "But maybe she had a point in calling me a barren burden..."

The sheer sadness in her voice physically hurt him. Ikarion couldn't stand it. She wasn't a burden. She was the only light he had ever known, nothing but pure, unadulterated joy in a life built on violence. How could he possibly lie to the sky and pretend that the whore's venom contained any truth?

Ignoring the prophecy, ignoring the quiet dread of the gods, Ikarion reached out. He gently cupped her face in his large, calloused hands, his thumbs sweeping over her cheekbones.

"You are no burden, my Queen," Ikarion said, staring deeply into her eyes, burying the truth of it into her very soul. "You will never be."

Misarya let out a soft breath, stepping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, hugging him against her.

As the Dragon King stood in the clearing, holding his beloved wife against his chest, he felt the steady, rapid beating of her heart against his own. He looked up at the bruised Askari sky, making his final, absolute choice.

He would rather irrigate the soil of his kingdom in the blood of tens of thousands, than ever water it with a single one of her tears.