A Royal Obligation -
Chapter 159: Anger & Frustration
Chapter 159: Anger & Frustration
Sadiki’s body felt like lead, every muscle frozen, every breath shallow as Drystan’s form retreated. The soft creak of the door as it opened rang in Sadiki’s ears, each second stretching out like an eternity. He could feel his heart shattering, pieces of it falling away with every step Drystan took.
But still, he couldn’t move. He stood there, helpless, watching the man he loved slip away, the words he longed to say trapped somewhere deep inside him.
Drystan hesitated at the doorway, just for a moment, as though he was waiting, hoping, that Sadiki would stop him. That Sadiki would call out, tell him something, anything, to make this all make sense.
But the silence between them was louder than any argument. It was the silence of things left unsaid, of feelings buried too deep to reach.
Sadiki’s throat tightened, his lips parting, but the words wouldn’t come. He wanted to scream, to tell Drystan not to leave, to explain why he was doing this, why he had to do this, but nothing came out. His mind screamed at him to act, but his body betrayed him, keeping him rooted to the spot.
The door closed with a soft click, the finality of it ringing in the empty room like a death knell. The silence that followed was suffocating. Sadiki stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the closed door, his chest tightening with every passing second. And then, the dam broke.
He slumped onto the bed, his hands covering his face as the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilled over. His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. It felt like his heart was being ripped apart, torn between the man he loved and the secrets he couldn’t bear to reveal.
"I’m sorry, Stan," he muttered through the tears, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m so sorry."
His chest heaved with the weight of his guilt, of the lies he had told himself, trying to convince himself that this was for the best. But even now, as he sat alone in the quiet of the room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. He kept muttering the same words over and over, as though saying them enough times would make them true.
"This is for the best," he whispered, his hands trembling as he wiped at his tear-streaked face. "This is for the best."
But it didn’t feel like it. Not now. Not with Drystan’s absence hanging in the air like a weight that threatened to crush him.
Sadiki cried harder, the sobs wracking his body, his heart aching with a pain so deep it was almost unbearable. He buried his face in his hands, his fingers digging into his skin as though he could somehow hold himself together, but he was falling apart.
His tears soaked into the fabric of his shirt, his breaths coming in shallow, broken gasps. His body trembled with the force of his grief, and for the first time, he wondered if he could really go through with his plan. If he could really push Drystan away to protect him.
But what choice did he have?
If Drystan knew the truth, if he knew what Sadiki was planning to do, what he had to do, he would hate him. And that thought was unbearable. It was better to end things now, to walk away before Drystan found out the truth.
Drystan’s feet moved on their own, carrying him away from his quarters, away from the pain and the confusion. His chest was tight, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and heartbreak. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay in that room any longer, couldn’t stand to see the look in Sadiki’s eyes, the look that said he wasn’t going to fight for them.
His fists clenched at his sides as he roamed aimlessly through the halls of the castle, his mind racing. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams, torn between the love he felt for Sadiki and the fury that burned in his chest. How could Sadiki do this? How could he shut him out like this, after everything they had been through?
Without even realizing it, Drystan found himself back at the training grounds. The clanging of steel and the grunts of sparring guards filled the air, but all Drystan could feel was the boiling anger inside him. He stormed onto the grounds, his gaze sharp and unforgiving as he grabbed a practice sword from the rack.
The guards glanced at him but said nothing. No one dared ask about the scene from earlier. They had seen the way Drystan had dragged Sadiki out, the tension between them palpable. But now, as Drystan stormed into the training yard, they knew better than to question him.
Drystan chose his first sparring partner without a word, a younger guard who looked nervous as he stepped forward. The moment their swords clashed, Drystan’s fury erupted. He attacked with a ferocity that left his opponent stumbling backward, barely able to defend himself. Drystan didn’t hold back. He fought like a man possessed, his blows swift and brutal, his movements fueled by the anger and pain that coursed through his veins.
The young guard was no match for him. Drystan disarmed him within moments, sending him sprawling to the ground with a swift kick to the chest. The other guards watched in stunned silence, unsure of what to do as Drystan turned to face them, his eyes blazing.
"Next," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Another guard stepped forward, this one older and more experienced, but even he couldn’t keep up with Drystan’s relentless assault. Drystan fought like a beast, his movements quick and precise, each strike meant to hurt. The older guard grunted as he tried to parry Drystan’s blows, but it was no use. Drystan overpowered him, sending him crashing to the ground in a matter of seconds.
One by one, Drystan’s sparring partners fell. He didn’t give them a chance to fight back, didn’t give them time to breathe. His sword was a blur of motion, his attacks vicious and unrelenting. His muscles ached, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Not while the anger still burned inside him.
The other guards began to back away, none of them willing to step forward and be his next victim. They exchanged nervous glances, their faces pale as they watched Drystan cut through one sparring partner after another. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his fury.
"Weaklings," Drystan muttered under his breath as he glared at the guards, his chest heaving. His gaze swept across the training grounds, daring someone to challenge him, but no one moved. They all stood frozen in place, their eyes wide with fear and respect.
Drystan sneered. "Cowards," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt.
With no one left to fight, Drystan stormed off, his frustration mounting. His heart still ached, his mind still spinning with thoughts of Sadiki. He couldn’t go back to his quarters, not with Sadiki there.
So instead, he made his way to the bath chambers reserved for the servants.
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