The stench of alcohol reached Johanna before she even crossed the threshold. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. For a moment she considered turning back, but she dismissed the thought immediately.
She had not come this far to retreat.
With a sharp motion, she pushed the door open, holding a napkin over her nose as she stepped into William's chamber, her gaze sweeping the room like that of a hunting eagle.
In one corner, two musicians played languid melodies, one plucking the strings of a harp and the other coaxing soft notes from a flute.
Around the room, concubines swayed to the music, their bodies moving with practiced seduction. Their near-nudity made Johanna's eyes ache, though it was not a sight unfamiliar to her.
William sat at the center of the spectacle, one concubine perched on his lap, his arm lazily draped around her waist as she peppered his face with kisses. The others circled him eagerly, each desperate to earn a glance of his attention.
At last, he shoved the woman from his lap and staggered to his feet with the help of another. He was thoroughly drunk, swaying as he moved, a goblet of wine in one hand and the bottle clutched in the other.
Johanna watched with mounting irritation.
Striding toward him, she snatched the goblet from his hand and hurled it to the floor. It shattered with a sharp, echoing crack.
The music died instantly.
The concubines froze when they noticed Johanna. Within seconds, they fled the chamber in terrified silence.
William, however, continued swaying drunkenly, smiling with a strange, vacant delight as though the music still played in his mind.
Johanna seized his wrist, and she spun him toward herself.
Without hesitation, she strikes him across the cheek to jolt him back to his senses.
The slap rang loudly across the room, reverberating like an echo.
William staggered back, bloodshot eyes widening as sobriety rushed in with his anger.
"Woman, what is your problem?" he demanded coldly, licking his lips.
Johanna regarded him with murderous contempt.
"If you had been my only child," she hissed, "I would have hanged myself long ago.
She picked up an apple and a knife from the fruit bowl on a nearby table and began slicing it with controlled precision.
William glared at her, rubbing the cheek she had struck.
He watched as she walked to the golden chair near the center of the room and sat down as though she owned the chamber, crossing her legs with deliberate elegance.
"Why don't you make yourself useful?" she continued. "Look at your sister Leah. She is already attracting suitors wealthy enough to enrich this family. And you…" She gestured around the room. "You waste your days drowning in wine and women."
William clenched his fists.
"You greedy woman," he spat. "If you love money so much, why don't you earn it yourself?"
Johanna ignored the insult.
"What do you want, Mother?" William demanded, running both hands through his hair. His head throbbed viciously. He dropped the wine bottle on the table beside him.
Johanna said nothing for a moment.
She calmly sliced another piece of apple and placed it in her mouth.
"I want you to become the king of Decreash," she said at last.
William burst into laughter.
He laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, and the sound only deepened Johanna's irritation.
"You want me to be king?" he said between breaths. "Mother, your greed has finally driven you mad. Why don't you simply tell me to murder Ragaleon while you're at it?"
Johanna did not hesitate.
"If his death would make you king," she said coolly, "then so be it."
William's expression darkened.
"I will not be part of your poisonous schemes. Leave my room."
He pointed toward the door.
Johanna did not move. Instead, she shifted slightly in her chair, her dark obsidian eyes glittering with cold resolve.
"You have tested my patience long enough, William. Do not push me further."
William exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
"Do you think I am some pawn you can sacrifice for your ambitions?" he said bitterly. "Open your eyes, Mother. Be grateful Father even married you. If he hadn't, we would have been thrown into the streets."
The words struck Johanna like a physical blow, but she refused to show it.
"I should be grateful?" she scoffed.
"If anything, I regret my decision. Many noblemen would have knelt just to look upon my face. I could have named any of them the father of my child… yet I chose honesty."
Her grip tightened around the knife.
"I told your father the truth about my pregnancy. He accepted it… but he never loved me."
William's eyes hardened.
"You were never of noble blood, Mother," he said coldly. "And yet Father married you anyway. You were nothing but a brothel dancer."
His voice cut like a blade.
"A whore."
"William!" Johanna shot to her feet, fury blazing in her eyes.
But William only laughed hysterically.
"I was never meant to be king," he said quietly. "Father made that very clear before he died."
The words pierced Johanna's heart.
For a moment, she glimpsed the wounded child beneath his bitterness.
"Mother…" William began.
Then his voice hardened.
"Leave."
The shout echoed through the chamber.
Without another word, he began stripping off his clothes, preparing to bathe.
Johanna had no choice but to turn away; to gaze upon her son's nakedness would be a taboo.
Carefully avoiding the shattered glass on the floor, she walked out of the room, her heart heavy.
When she reached her own chamber, Johanna sank into one of the ornate golden chairs and sat in silence.
William's words echoed relentlessly in her mind.
But another memory soon surfaced.
Selena's voice.
"At least I didn't trap him with a child."
The words had been spoken casually at breakfast days earlier, but they had carved themselves into Johanna's soul.
Until that moment, no one in the palace had known the truth: that Harris had married her only because she had been pregnant.
Hatred flared within her chest.
"You will pay for this, Selena," Johanna whispered. "I swear it."
Elsewhere in the palace, Racheal reclined in a steaming bath, the warm mist filling the chamber.
Her maid, Rosa, gently washed her long brown hair.
"My lady," Rosa said softly, "I heard about your chess match with Queen Jazell."
Racheal sank deeper into the water, her eyes closed.
"And what do you think of my loss, Rosa?"
Rosa began scrubbing her mistress's shoulders carefully.
"My lady… you lost on purpose."
Racheal's eyes opened slowly.
"Why would you say that?"
Rosa remained calm.
"I simply know it. You could have won."
Racheal lifted one graceful leg from the water, allowing Rosa to wash it.
"For a moment," Racheal said thoughtfully, "I feared she might defeat me." She spoke with such confidence."
Her gaze drifted.
"But once we began playing, I realized something. She was not as skilled as she believed herself to be."
Rosa paused.
"Then why surrender the victory?"
Racheal rose from the bath, steam curling around her as Rosa wrapped a thick towel around her body.
"Because sometimes," Racheal said quietly, "we must sacrifice pride to secure greater victories."
Rosa led her towards the dressing table, and Racheal seated herself before her mirror while her handmaid applied lavender oil to her skin.
"You made a great sacrifice, my lady," Rosa murmured. "I hope the reward will justify it."
Racheal smiled faintly.
"I did not allow Jazell to win without reason."
Her eyes darkened thoughtfully.
"If I had defeated her, she would harbor resentment. Jazell's pride is the mask she wears before the world."
The maid began combing her hair. The brush drained the excess water away from the thick curly hair, leaving it damp.
"And I cannot afford her hatred, not yet."
She stood as Rosa slipped a blue robe over her shoulders.
"The harem is a battlefield," Racheal continued. "Friends must be kept close… but enemies closer."
Rosa extinguished most of the candles before guiding her mistress toward the bed.
"My lady," she said admiringly, "your wisdom is remarkable."
Racheal laid on the bed as Rosa began massaging her feet.
"I lost a game tonight," Racheal murmured.
"A small loss."
Her gaze turned distant.
"But what I intend to gain from Jazell…"
A faint smile curved her lips.
"…is far greater than a single victory; if only she had seen what I have installed for her. She would never have underestimated me…never."