Galvestone Imperial Palace
Lydia's lips, deep crimson, contrasted starkly against her porcelain skin, curling into a subtle, knowing smile.
Her fingers adorned with silver rings tapped lightly against her side.
She stared at him, her emerald eyes glowing with mischief. It was as if she could see straight into his soul.
"How does it feel to be a fool?"
She questioned entwining her fingers together.
He blinks his eyes, trying to process what she had just said.
"Don't be mad that this lady, a nobody, a taboo as you had put it, outsmarted you." She paused, then straightened up.
"You are against us, with the enemy?"
The words tasted bitter on his lips.
"Do I have to answer every question?"
She cooed, allowing her finger to twirl with the strands of her hair, her gaze lowered.
In fury, Lucan cast the map aside.
"The king must hear of this."
He said while taking big strides towards the door.
"Careful now, darling."
Came her voice in a subtle whisper.
"You don't want to play with fire. It burns and scars the skin."
She continued while looking at an invisible speck of dust on her finger. Before shifting her gaze to the emerald ring Kyron had gifted her during one of their sexual escapades.
She caressed the ring softly, her mind drifting away for a fleeting moment.
"You are a demonic woman!
Lucan shrilled, his neck straining, as his voice echoed across the room.
"Call me whatever name you must."
She says, slipping away from the table, she took a step in his direction, but he shot out his hand, signifying her to stay put.
"At least now you know I am not useless.
I have a world of my own that I control; I have the king wrapped around my little fingers. Just like he ruined me, I would like to return the favor."
She ignores his signal and continues to draw nearer while fondling with the rope holding her nightrobe together.
"In nothing more than an hour, the castle and everything in it will be nothing but vague history.
Ragaleon has his men marching less than five miles from here; this kingdom will be in ruins and rubble. But before that happens, I want to make this night special for both of us."
At her words, Lucan stiffened.
She kept inching closer, and instinctively he withdrew backwards.
"I have always had an eye for you."
She undid her gown, exposing her nudity to him.
"To feel your breath hot against mine. You are…young and masculine, and I am sure you can make me insanely addicted to your body."
Her voice was like enchantments, and those green emerald eyes were filled with nothing but lust.
"You act as though you do not see me, that you do not notice me, but I know you do."
She purred, slipping the gown down her body.
Lucan was too shocked to utter a word.
Right now he was looking at the naked body of a full-grown woman, old enough to be his mother.
She finally stands in front of him and, without warning, presses her body against his.
"Tell me you don't want this."
She mumbled in his ear before running her tongue around his earlobes, her lashes grazing his face.
Taking his hand, she traced it along her thighs while instinctively shutting her eyes closed.
Her mouth parted slightly, ready to moan when his hands hit her wet spot. But a brutal reality slammed her back from her dark fantasy when Lucan pushed her away.
"You are shameless!
He spat out, disgusted by her actions. He turned away from her, trying to get ahold of himself.
Lydia stumbled backward but found stability eventually.
She turned to look at him, but he was backing her.
"Why do you resent me?"
Came her voice in a hoarse whisper.
"The king respects you, and this…this is what he gets in return. Your betrayal!
He ran his hand through his hair, his breath ragged.
"Is this what you have decided?"
She asked, snatching her nightrobe from the floor, her eyes burning with wounded pride. She turned away as she slipped the night robe up her body.
"You leave me no choice."
He says, his eyes cold…rebellious.
The reflection of the candlelight burned in her eyes; her green iris seemed to disappear, replaced by a red…lustrous glint.
"Go!
Her voice rang in the atmosphere as she commanded loudly.
"Go now…before I change my mind."
Her voice sounded croaky; she was broken.
He didn't hesitate; he took his leave, slamming the door behind him.
Lydia came to a realization that made her feel sick. She felt her whole world begin to spin; a deranged laughter escaped her lips as she crumbled to the floor.
The laughter was mocking, high-pitched… And suddenly she let out a low whimper, lashes wet with unshed tears.
...
"May the gods have mercy on you if a single word you've spoken proves false. I will have your cock castrated immediately!
Kyron growled, his gruff voice rumbling through the chamber. The fat, aging monarch, well into his late sixties, was simply angry that he was made to arise from his slumber.
He moved down the hallway, Lucan trailing a cautious step behind him.
"I was made to go through that map myself," Kyron snarled, his voice echoing off the stone.
"The strategies were perfect, and then you come to me… speaking gibberish!"
He shook his head slowly, side to side, the movement sharp with irritation. His cloak dragged behind him as he marched down the hall, each step heavy with restrained fury.
"Lady Lydia confirmed it herself…" Lucan murmured, his voice barely rising above the crackle of the torches.
Kyron halted mid-stride, his shoulders stiffening. He turned his head just enough to glare over at him.
"Since when have you ever supported a single word Lydia says?" He snaps, and without waiting for an answer, he whips back around and takes a sharp turn into another hallway.
His cloak flared behind him, sweeping the floor like a dark tide.
The door to the courtroom swung open with a heavy groan under the force of Kyron's approach.
A sudden breeze swept across the floor, stirring dust and sending the edges of his cloak rippling behind him.
His eagle-sharp eyes swept across the room, past the long table, past the carved stairs, gliding over a few portraits, and then past a figure he barely registered.
He paused.
A flicker of movement tugged at his attention.
Slowly, he retraced his gaze to the spot where he thought he'd seen something…someone.
There, at the base of one of the pillars, was a woman curled on the floor. Her posture was tight, drawn in on herself, her head bowed and tucked between her knees.
Kyron froze for barely a moment before regaining himself.
"Lydia?"
He felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through his nerves as she dashed in his direction.
Lydia's eyes lifted to meet his, wide and uncertain, a mixture of fear and recognition flickering across her face.
He stopped just before her, a storm of emotions flickering behind his gaze.
He noticed the pattern of faint red marks on her skin, her lips were bruised, and her hair was disheveled.
"Who did this to you?"
His eyes darkened like solidified lava.
Her red hair clung to her face in wet strands, shadowing eyes that darted erratically, as if hunting for threats.
Trembling violently with each breath, like a drenched cat shivering under a storm.
Her fingers twitched, curling and uncurling with nervous energy, and a low, erratic whimper slipped past her lips.
"Speak to me!
He roared, shaking her violently.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died before they reached her lips, swallowed by the quiver of her chest.
"He did this to me."
Tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her pale cheeks. Her teeth chattered violently as she sniffed.
Then, raising her trembling hand, her gaze flicked to a shadowed figure behind him. Her wrinkled fingers quivered as they pointed toward it, eyes suddenly hardening with a fragile, stubborn resolve.
"I… I didn't let him, but he wanted to."
The words were barely out when a fresh round of tears erupted, streaming down her face.
At her words, he turned, following the path of her trembling finger. His cloak swayed behind him as he pivoted, eyes narrowing.
When his gaze finally settled, it rested on Lucan's.
Lucan felt all blood drain away from his face.
"There is no truth in what she is trying to say!" he shouted, voice cracking under the weight of the accusation.
"She is lying, every word of it!"
"Guards!
Kyron barked, his voice loud enough to command thousands of soldiers.
"Your Majesty!"
Lucan felt beads of sweat forming on his face.
The doors burst open, and three guards rushed in, armor clattering, eyes searching for the threat.
Kyron didn't hesitate. He rose to his full height, fury hardening his features as he pointed toward Lucan.
"Seize him!"
Lucan stumbled backward, shock flashing across his face.
"My king, wait! She is telling lies; I swear it!"
The guards seized his arms, but he lurched forward anyway, desperate for his words to reach Kyron's ears.
"My lord, you know me," he insisted, breath quickening. "You know I would never…"
Kyron raised a hand, and the room fell silent.
"I know nothing," he said coolly.
"Take him outside," he ordered, his tone cold as steel. "And execute him. I want his head displayed on the high spike."
He clasped his hands behind his back, shoulders squared, the decision final in his voice.
Lucan felt his world come to an abrupt end.
"My lord—no! You cannot do this based on her words alone…"
His veins stretched on the surface of his skin as he tried to wiggle out of the grip of the guards.
The guards forced him toward the doors, their grips firm but controlled.
Kyron didn't look at him again.
What he also didn't see was the faint, mischievous grin tugging at the corner of Lydia's lips. A flicker of triumph she tried to hide beneath lowered lashes.
But Lucan saw it, and more than anything he wished, so desperately wished, he could wipe that smile off her face. But he couldn't.
.
"Your Majesty—she's deceiving you!" He cried, struggling against the guards.
Kyron remained facing forward, unmoved.
"She will lead us to our death!" he shouted as the guards dragged him toward the doorway.
His voice cracked, desperation spilling into every word.
"She will lead us all to ruin, don't you hear me?"
Kyron didn't turn.
"They are coming… Ragaleon is coming…" He gasped, struggling harder now.
"Do something now… before it is too late."
His final plea thinned into the corridor as the guards hauled him away, his voice fading away.
Silence settled in the room.
Lydia lowered her head, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her expression unreadable.
A satisfaction flickered across her face and vanished as quickly as she blinked.
Kyron exhaled slowly.
"Ragaleaon…" he murmured, the name tasting sour on his tongue.
Behind him, Lydia's eyes lifted, glinting with something sharp.
Lucan was dragged across the courtyard, his boots scraping against the stone as the guards pulled him forward.
A rope had been looped around his wrists when they arrived at the execution ground, and he was tied to a wooden stick with his hands behind his back.
His breathing turned rapid, panic rising in sharp waves.
Sweat gathered at his brow despite the cool air.
"You… you know I am innocent, right?" He muttered, voice breaking as he glanced from one guard to the other.
"You must know…"
"Keep quiet and savor the remaining moment of your life on earth. If I were you, I would be saying my last prayers."
A guard shot back rashly.
Lucan swallowed hard.
"This is a mistake," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "A terrible mistake…"
The guards didn't answer.
One of them began to clean his sword, prepping it to be used.
Lucam looked back at the castle doors, hoping, just once, that the kyron would appear, call out, and demand the truth be checked.
But that didn't happen.
From a high arched window in her chamber. Lydia pressed both hands against the cold window frame, leaning forward just enough to see the courtyard below.
Her gaze swept over the gathered guards, then to Lucan, who was crucified on a stick, his hand nailed to the wood.
She saw him open his mouth and scream as the guards nailed his legs to the wood. But didn't hear a word since she was so far away.
Then it happened.
The guards carried out Kyron's command swiftly, too swiftly for anyone to intervene.
What she saw next was Lucan's head rolling on the ground and blood splattering everywhere.
He was dead. He died a horrible death.
Lydia sighed then turned away but just at that moment, a bell rang.
A deep, booming clang that shook the air, echoing through every hallway of the castle.
Lydia stiffened at the window, her fingers curling around a necklace on her neck.
The bell rang again, louder, sharper, and urgent enough to send birds scattering from the battlements.
She didn't need anyone to explain it.
She knew exactly what that sound meant.
It was the alarm bell.
It was the call every soldier had been trained to answer.
It was war.