CROWN OF FORBIDDEN HEARTS -
Chapter 34: THE NEW COURTLADY
Chapter 34: 34: THE NEW COURTLADY
34
Chapter 34 Excerpt – The Cloaked Woman
The scent of jasmine filled the room, mixed with something strange—something metallic. It was familiar, yet it made Zara’s stomach twist. She turned slowly, her heart pounding as she saw a figure standing by the chamber doors, cloaked in deep robes. The air felt heavier, pressing down on her as if the walls were closing in.
Then Alaric’s voice cut through the silence. "Your new court lady," he said, smugness dripping from every word.
Zara’s fingers clenched at her sides. Her breath hitched as the cloaked figure raised a hand and slowly pulled back her hood.
Red curls tumbled down, framing a face Zara knew too well. Sharp golden eyes met hers, filled with something unreadable.
Scarlett.
Zara felt like the ground had been yanked from beneath her. Anger and anguish crashed over her like a tidal wave. "You," she whispered, voice trembling with disbelief.
Scarlett tilted her head slightly, her lips twitching into a small, knowing smile. "Your Majesty," she greeted, voice smooth and calm, like this was completely normal.
Alaric’s arm wrapped around Zara’s waist, pulling her close before she could take a step back. She tensed, every inch of her body screaming to push him away, but the spell wouldn’t let her. It made her weak. It made her want his touch, even though she despised him.
"I thought it would be fitting," Alaric murmured against her ear, his breath warm, his tone mocking. "The one who cast the love bind spell, watching after you? That way things are easier for you and you wouldn’t need to stress yourself about anything else!" He chuckled.
Zara’s throat tightened. Of all people, why Scarlett? She had been against her from the beginning but now, she’s under his control through here.
"You’re not here to serve me," Zara spat, her voice laced with fury. "You’re here to watch me."
Scarlett didn’t deny it. Instead, she stepped closer, her gaze steady. "It’s for your own good."
Zara let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. "My own good?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?"
Scarlett’s face remained calm, but there was something in her eyes, a flicker of something deeper, something Zara couldn’t quite place.
Alaric’s grip on her waist tightened. "Enough," he said, his voice carrying a warning.
Zara yanked at his hold, but the spell’s invisible chains held her down. Pain seared through her chest, punishing her for resisting him. She gasped, her knees almost buckling as the ache spread through her body.
Alaric smirked. "You see? The more you fight, the worse it gets."
Zara clenched her jaw, swallowing down the sharp cry that threatened to escape. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
Scarlett finally spoke again, softer this time. "You should rest, Your Majesty. It’s been a long day."
Zara’s eyes burned as she stared at her, at the stranger she had once called a friend. ’ No, she thought bitterly. It’s only just begun.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
That morning, before scarlet is introduced,Lysandra awoke to warmth, a suffocating, infuriating warmth. A heavy arm was draped over her waist, locking her against a bare chest that rose and fell in steady rhythm. She recognized the scent before she even opened her eyes. Cedarwood, steel, and the faintest trace of blood.
Alaric.
A shudder of revulsion ran through her, but her body betrayed her. She didn’t recoil. She didn’t shove him away. She wanted to but the moment she thought of pulling away, a sharp, searing pain bloomed in her chest, as if an invisible chain yanked her back to him.
She clenched her teeth. The love bind.
Last night had been a nightmare, one she couldn’t wake up from. Every time she tried to remind herself of who she was, of what she had lost, what he had taken, the spell twisted her emotions, making her crave the very man who had ruined her.
She hated him. But gods, the spell made it impossible to resist the warmth of his skin against hers.
A low, amused hum rumbled against her back.
"You’re awake," Alaric murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer as if she were something he owned. "Good. I was starting to think I exhausted you too much."
Lysandra’s stomach churned. She jerked against his hold, trying to pry herself free. The pain struck instantly, like a blade to the ribs.
Alaric chuckled darkly. "Careful, ’queen’. That spell doesn’t like it when you fight me."
She gritted her teeth and stilled, seething in silence.
"You should be grateful," he mused, lazily tracing patterns on her bare shoulder. "I could have had you in chains by now, but I let you sleep in my bed like a proper wife. I must be going soft."
Lysandra snapped. "You’re a monster."
Alaric only laughed. He finally loosened his grip and let her turn to face him. His silver eyes gleamed with amusement as he brushed a lock of hair from her face.
"A monster?" he echoed. "Is that what you tell yourself?" He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Because I seem to recall you echoing my name last night. Did that sound like a woman who despises me?"
Lysandra’s hand flew before she could stop herself.
A sharp crack split the air.
Alaric’s head barely tilted from the force of her slap, but his amusement vanished. The air grew thick.
She didn’t cower. Not this time. She glared up at him, daring him to retaliate.
For a moment, he did nothing. Then, he smirked.
"Good," he murmured. "I was starting to worry the spell had tamed you completely."
He rolled out of bed, stretching like a man utterly at ease with himself. As if last night hadn’t destroyed her. As if she hadn’t lost everything.
"I’ll give you a moment to dress," he said carelessly, reaching for his tunic."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Lysandra walked beside Alaric, her hands clenched into fists as they entered the grand council chamber. The heavy doors shut behind them with a resounding boom, sealing her inside with the very men who had betrayed her.
Her heart pounded. These were the same councilmen who had once knelt before her, sworn fealty to her rule. Now, they bowed to Alaric.
She couldn’t stomach the sight.
Alaric strode to the throne at the head of the chamber—her throne. But instead of seating himself, he took her by the wrist and pulled her onto his lap.
Lysandra stiffened, humiliation scorching through her.
A few of the councilmen exchanged glances, but none dared speak against the new king.
Alaric’s grip tightened possessively. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, "Smile, my queen."
She refused.
His smirk only widened as he turned to the council. "Let’s begin."
The head councilman, Lord Varel, cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, we have assembled to discuss the restructuring of Calithea under your rule."
Lysandra’s stomach turned.
Alaric leaned back in the throne, his hand resting on her thigh, a silent reminder of his dominance. "Yes, shall we?."
Alaric glanced at Lysandra before reading from the parchment in his hands. "Effective immediately, the queen’s authority will be reduced. All matters of governance, war, and alliances will fall under the king’s command."
Lysandra’s breath caught. She turned to Alaric in disbelief. "You’re stripping me of my power?"
He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Did you think I’d let you keep it?"
She burned with fury. "You used me—"
Alaric cut her off with a chuckle. "I conquered you." He looked at the council. "What else?"
Varel hesitated before continuing. "To solidify the alliance between Calithea and Zethro, the queen’s lands and armies will now fall under Zethro’s jurisdiction."
Lysandra shot to her feet, but Alaric yanked her back down onto his lap.
"You bastard," she hissed, her voice shaking.
"Hush now, wife. This is what happens when a person loses a war. You must stay with the consequences."
The words sliced through her, deeper than any blade ever could.
A heavy silence followed, thick with unspoken humiliation. The council chamber remained still, but Zara felt the weight of a thousand stares pressing down on her. The men who had once bowed before her, who had sought her wisdom, now watched as she stood powerless under Alaric’s hand.
Her skin burned with shame, not just from his touch but from the sheer degradation of it all. She had once been Queen of Calithea, strong, respected, untouchable. And now, she was nothing more than a trophy at his side, a war prize to be mocked and tamed at his will.
Her nails dug into her palms as she swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to keep her head high. But even that felt like an illusion. She wasn’t a queen anymore. She wasn’t even herself.
She was just his. A shadow of the woman she had once been.
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