ISLA
The atmosphere in the castle was thick with tension. Every servant moved in silence, as if the very air was heavy with the weight of unspoken words. The king had withdrawn completely into herself after her father’s departure, and the once confident, commanding presence now felt withdrawn, like a storm about to break. Kaira moved through the halls like a shadow, her face hard and unreadable. She didn’t speak to anyone, didn’t even spare them a glance. Her eyes were cold and distant, the only indication of her anger hidden beneath the surface.
I had learned over the past few weeks that when Kaira was like this, silence was the only way to survive. I kept my distance, but I followed her silently, moving through the castle like a ghost. She had already given me my orders—serve her, remain in the shadows. My presence was nothing more than a function, a means to an end. I didn’t dare speak unless she spoke first.
Once we reached her chambers, I silently opened the door and allowed her to enter first. She walked past me without a word, her footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the room. I closed the door behind her, locking it, and then moved to prepare everything she might need.
I set out the dishes for her dinner, and carefully poured the wine into a glass, making sure to place everything exactly where she liked it. My hands trembled slightly, but I kept my focus, not daring to break the silence. Every movement I made felt like it was being watched, judged. And perhaps it was.
As the minutes dragged on, I could feel the weight of her gaze on me, even though she didn’t look up from the window. I stood by her side, waiting for her to speak, but the silence stretched on, suffocating in its intensity.
When the time came, she stood abruptly, turning toward me. Her eyes met mine, cold and unforgiving.
"Follow me," she said, her voice clipped, low, and heavy with the weight of whatever storm raged within her. There was no room for argument, no invitation to speak.
I followed her out of the room, my footsteps echoing in the quiet hallways. I kept my head down, avoiding looking at her face, at the sharpness of her eyes that seemed to pierce through the air itself. I could feel the anger radiating off her like heat from a furnace, and I kept my distance, not daring to make a sound.
It wasn’t long before disaster struck.
As we moved down the hallway, a servant, hurrying too fast with a tray of tea, tripped. The teacup flew from her hand, and the steaming liquid spilled all over the king’s finely tailored robes. The sound of the crash echoed through the halls, and I saw the woman’s face drain of color as she realized what had happened.
The air went still for a moment. I could feel the tension building, the electric charge of fear hanging in the air. Kaira’s body went rigid, and for a moment, I saw her hand twitch as though reaching for her sword. Her eyes—dark and full of fury—landed on the servant.
The woman who had spilled the tea stood frozen, terrified, as she scrambled to kneel in front of Kaira. Her hands were shaking, the deep shame and panic evident in every motion. She babbled apologies, but Kaira did not respond. Her gaze was unwavering, her expression colder than the steel of her sword.
Kaira’s lips curled into a sneer, her fingers flexing as if ready to draw her weapon. She turned, and her sword’s hilt gleamed in the dim light, drawing a collective breath from the air as everyone in the hallway held their breath.
Before she could strike, something inside me snapped. I couldn’t bear to see the servant punished like this—her mistake had been a simple one, the result of clumsy nerves. She had not done this out of malice.
Without thinking, I fell to my knees in front of Kaira. My heart pounded in my chest, and my voice was trembling as I spoke, but I had to speak.
“Please, Your Majesty,” I pleaded, my voice quiet but firm. “Please do not kill her. It was an accident.” My words were desperate, and my body shook, but I did not move.
Kaira’s eyes turned on me like blades. The coldness in her stare was enough to freeze me where I knelt. She didn’t respond for a long time, and I could hear the silence in the hall, heavy and suffocating.
“Why should I not kill this servant?” Kaira’s voice was low, almost mocking. “She disrespects me, and you, a mere servant yourself, plead for her life. You think I should spare her?”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet her gaze, even though every part of me wanted to look away. Her anger was like a storm, but I couldn’t let it stop me from speaking.
The servant behind me was still kneeling, her hands clasped together in prayer, her body trembling with fear. She had no way of knowing if she was going to live or die.
I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a breath. My chest ached, and for a moment, I felt all the weight of my own past—the injustice, the pain, the things I had suffered. I understood that fear. I had lived with it. I had fought against it.
“Because she is only a reflection of what we all are,” I said, my voice quiet but full of conviction. “A woman, like me, trying to survive. She has made a mistake, but not one deserving of death. We are all servants in some way. Some of us make mistakes, some of us are punished for things beyond our control, but we don’t deserve to die for them. She’s a reflection of how fragile we all are, Your Majesty. Please. Don’t take her life.”
Kaira stood still, her face unreadable. The only sound in the hallway was the soft rustle of the servants’ clothing and the faint sound of my breathing. I didn’t know if my plea would be enough, but I knew I had to try. It wasn’t about the servant—it was about what I believed in. What I had learned in my life.
Kaira’s eyes softened, just barely, as she looked down at me. She glanced at the servant, still kneeling behind me, her hands folded in prayer, her body trembling with fear. The king’s gaze lingered on the woman for a long moment before she sighed deeply.
“Fine,” Kaira muttered, her voice full of disdain. “I will spare her. But let this be a lesson—do not waste my time again.”
She turned, her cloak swishing behind her as she walked away, the tension in the air finally breaking. I didn’t dare move until I was sure she was out of earshot. Then, I slowly stood up, helping the trembling servant to her feet.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky. Her eyes were filled with relief, but I could see the lingering terror of what had almost happened.
I didn’t say anything, only nodded. In that moment, the only thing that mattered was that she had been spared. And that, despite my own fear, I had done the right thing.
The hallway was quiet, the tension still thick in the air after the altercation with the servant. But just as the noise of the servants slowly faded into the distance, something in the atmosphere shifted. The King, her back to me as she walked away, suddenly halted. I didn’t dare move, my feet planted firmly in place, watching her still figure with growing anxiety.
She turned slowly, her gaze locking with mine. I held my breath, not knowing what to expect. Her eyes were dark, unreadable, but there was something more—an intensity I hadn’t seen in her before. She regarded me silently for a long moment, her expression unreadable, like she was weighing me in a way that made my stomach tighten.
“I need a partner,” she said, her voice low and calculating, but there was an edge to it that made me instinctively stand straighter. “Someone to balance the weight of this kingdom... Someone who understands the suffering of the people, who understands empathy, yet has enough restraint not to challenge me. To be obedient when required. To stand by me, but never to stand in my way.”
Her words hung in the air like a heavy fog. My mind raced. A partner? What did she mean by that? I swallowed hard, trying to make sense of her words, but I couldn’t.
“You’ve shown me that you understand sacrifice,” she continued, her eyes never leaving mine. “You’ve been obedient when others faltered, you’ve seen pain and yet, you didn’t allow it to consume you. I need someone like that.”
I felt my pulse quicken, my breath hitching. What was she saying?
“The truth is, Isla,” she said, her voice now quieter, yet full of weight. “You’re the only one who has shown any real loyalty. Any real devotion. And it’s time for you to take your place.”
She stepped closer, her presence overpowering, and I instinctively took a step back. But the King’s gaze never wavered. She didn’t need to speak louder, her words cutting through the air with sharp precision.
“You will be my Queen.”
The words slammed into me like a wave, knocking all air from my lungs. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. My mouth went dry, and my mind scrambled to make sense of the sentence she had just dropped.
“What?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. It felt surreal, a fantasy that I wasn’t ready to face. A servant—me, Isla—becoming the Queen? It was absurd. Impossible.
The King’s expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on me with a mixture of calculation and something I couldn’t quite place. Her lips curled slightly, but there was no smile—just a soft hint of something darker, something that made my insides twist.
“You heard me,” she said softly, almost as if she was daring me to contradict her. “I need someone who understands the weight of ruling... but isn’t foolish enough to challenge me. Someone who can stay loyal, obedient, but with enough strength of character to command respect. You’ve already proven you are more than just a servant. You’re something far more valuable.”
I felt the shock slowly turning to confusion. I couldn’t—couldn’t possibly—be what she was suggesting. I was a servant. Nothing more. A woman born to toil, to work in the shadows. There was no world where I could step into the throne beside her.
I swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to shake my head. “But… why me?” The question escaped before I could stop it. “I’m just... just a servant. I’m not—”
“You are,” the King interrupted, her voice smooth, like silk, but with an authority that could not be ignored. “You are exactly what I need. What we need. The kingdom needs to see empathy, to understand that I don’t rule out of cruelty alone. But I won’t have someone who might take my power from me. I need a Queen who understands the weight, but never tries to tip the scale. Someone who will stand with me. But never challenge me.”
Her words were like a knife, sharp and precise. I felt the weight of them sink deep into my chest, into my bones. My whole body froze, as if my own mind was locking me in place, unable to move or speak.
“But I’m just a... servant,” I whispered again, my voice barely audible, laced with disbelief.
“Yes,” she said. “You’re a servant, but not just any servant. You are the one who stood up for someone else’s life. You are the one who didn’t let fear control you. You, Isla, have more worth than any noblewoman here. And that is why you will be my Queen.”
Her words were final, and there was no room for argument. No space for negotiation.
My breath came in shallow bursts as I tried to grasp what she had just said. The world around me felt hazy, surreal, like the walls were closing in on me. This wasn’t real, was it? I was just a woman who had been forced to serve her. A woman who had failed in so many ways.
And yet, she was offering me a place at her side. A place of power, but at what cost?
The King stepped closer to me, her eyes sharp, but there was something else in her gaze—something that was almost... gentle. A softness beneath the hardened exterior.
“You don’t have to say anything now,” she said, her tone softer now, but the authority still carried in her voice. “But understand this—you are my choice. And you will remain by my side. No one else, no one but you.”
My heart raced, and all I could do was stare up at her, my mind still trying to process what she was saying. The King—this woman who I had only ever seen as a ruler, a terrifying force—was offering me a place at her side.
As her Queen.
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