CROWN OF FORBIDDEN HEARTS
Chapter 47: WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Chapter 47: 47: WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Zara had expected to wake up with hatred in her heart.

For weeks, her emotions had been a storm, violent, unpredictable, impossible to control. But this morning felt different. There was no anger burning beneath her skin, no sickening pull from the love bind spell forcing her into feelings that weren’t her own. She sat by the window, fingers curled around the silk drapes, staring out at the vast kingdom she once ruled alone.

The morning sun bathed the palace in soft gold, casting long shadows against the stone pathways. The banners of Calithea fluttered gently in the breeze, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Zara felt... free.

And yet, something in her chest felt hollow.

For so long, her hatred for Alaric had been the only thing keeping her steady. It had been her anchor, her reason to fight back, to resist, to hold on to the last shreds of her identity. But now, with the spell broken, she was left with an unfamiliar silence in her mind. No magic clouding her thoughts. No forced devotion.

She should have felt relief.

She should have felt disgust.

But instead, she felt nothing.

Until she saw him.

Her fingers gripped the curtain tighter as her eyes landed on the courtyard below.

Alaric stood among his men, clad in dark leather armor, the morning light catching the golden edges of his shoulder plates. He was speaking to his soldiers, his voice carrying across the open space. Even from her window, she could see the way they straightened under his gaze, listening with unwavering attention.

He was not the kind of ruler who demanded respect, he commanded it.

Her breath hitched slightly, but she quickly shoved down the unfamiliar feeling twisting in her chest.

She had spent so long viewing him through the lens of her pain and anger. The man who stole her kingdom. The man who bound her to him against her will. But now, without the spell distorting her emotions, she could see him differently.

And that terrified her.

She turned away from the window before she could think too much about it.

The morning routine went by in a blur.

Her ladies-in-waiting arrived, dressing her in layers of silken robes, combing her hair into delicate braids, and adorning her with simple gold jewelry. As they worked, they spoke in hushed voices, occasionally glancing at her with cautious eyes.

Zara knew why.

They had seen her suffer. They had witnessed her collapse under the weight of the spell, watched as she surrendered to a love that was never truly hers. They had watched her break.

But today, she did not feel broken.

Today, she felt awake.

Scarlet entered the chamber just as the last golden hairpin was secured in place. She looked at Zara with quiet scrutiny, her sharp eyes assessing. "You’re different today."

Zara lifted a brow. "Am I?"

Scarlet crossed the room, sitting on the cushioned bench near the vanity. "You tell me. You’re less... empty."

Zara inhaled, considering her response. But before she could answer, a knock echoed at the door.

A young servant stepped inside, bowing quickly before speaking. "Your Majesty, the King has summoned you to court."

The words sent a strange chill through her.

The King, Alaric wanted an audience with her, and she didn’t feel fear and at no point did she feel concern as to what he might do to embarrass her in court because she was confident that no matter what he did, if she wanted to defy him, there was no spell to punish her for it...zara was ready.

Her stomach twisted but she was still confident.

She knew she had no choice but to go, remember she still has to fool Alaric into believing that she is still bound by the spell.

The council chamber was filled with the usual murmurs of noblemen, their low voices blending into an indistinct hum as Zara entered. She walked with her head high, her expression composed, even as she felt the weight of their stares.

Alaric sat at the head of the table, his fingers loosely curled around the armrest of his chair. His eyes found hers the moment she stepped inside, and for a fraction of a second, something flickered across his face, something unreadable.

She took her seat beside him, ignoring the way the heat of his presence settled beside her.

The meeting proceeded as expected, discussions of trade routes, border defenses, and political alliances. Zara remained quiet, listening carefully, observing the way Alaric handled each debate.

She had always known he was intelligent.

But watching him command the room was something else entirely.

His voice was calm, measured, but laced with an authority that left no room for argument. He did not need to raise his voice to be heard. He did not need to assert his dominance with threats or violence. His mere presence was enough.

For the first time, Zara wondered if she had misjudged him.

She pushed the thought away.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky when she finally stepped outside.

The palace gardens stretched before her in a sea of color, roses, lavender, jasmine. A light breeze carried the scent of fresh earth and blooming petals. It was peaceful.

She wandered the pathways aimlessly, letting her fingers trail over the delicate petals of a deep red rose.

She had spent so long locked in her own mind, drowning in emotions that were not hers. But here, in this quiet moment, she felt real.

"Queen Lysandra " he called her.

The sound of her name sent a shiver down her spine.

She turned, and there he was.

Alaric stood a few steps away, his dark tunic fitted loosely over his broad frame, his sword still strapped to his hip. His gaze was unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made her pulse quicken.

She lifted her chin. "You never call me that."

A slow smirk touched his lips. "It is your name, is it not?"

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. She hated the way his voice sent a flicker of warmth through her. Hated the way her body responded, even now, with the spell broken.

"I suppose it is," she murmured.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

"I see you’ve been watching me," he said suddenly.

Zara froze.

Her heart lurched, but she forced her expression to remain neutral. "I don’t know what you mean."

Alaric’s smirk deepened. "Don’t you?"

She clenched her jaw. "Don’t flatter yourself, King."

His eyes darkened slightly at the challenge. He took a step closer. "You can lie to save yourself at all"

A rush of heat filled her chest. "You are insufferable," she hissed.

Alaric chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

And gods help her, but a part of her wanted to hear him laugh again.

Panic clawed at her throat.

She turned on her heel and strode away before he could say another word, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might break her ribs.

She did not see the way Alaric watched her go, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

And for the first time, he knew.

She was beginning to see him.

And she was beginning to want him.

Even if she wasn’t ready to admit it.

Later that day, as the sun set, it hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the palace gardens.

Zara walked along the stone pathway, her fingers brushing against the delicate petals of a jasmine bush.

The scent was intoxicating, wrapping around her like a memory she couldn’t quite grasp.

The past few days had been strange, too quiet, too uncertain. Without the spell clouding her mind, her emotions felt raw, exposed. There was no longer a force pushing her toward Alaric, no artificial warmth that made her chest ache with longing. But that didn’t stop the unsettling pull she felt whenever he was near.

Here, beneath the open sky, she could almost pretend she was free.

Almost.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment,

Then, in her distraction, she took a step too quickly.

The hem of her silk gown caught beneath her heel, the fabric twisting around her ankle. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as her balance wavered, her body tilting forward.

But before she could hit the ground, strong hands seized her waist.

She was caught, held firm against something solid, something warm.

Her breath hitched as she lifted her gaze, only to find herself inches from Alaric’s face.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them faded, swallowed by the quiet beat of their breaths mingling in the cool evening air. His grip on her waist was firm but not forceful, his fingers splayed over the delicate silk of her dress, anchoring her in place.

"You’re a danger to yourself, Queen," Alaric murmured, amusement flickering in his voice.

Zara scowled, her hands pressing against his chest to push herself upright, but he didn’t let go just yet.

"And you’re an insufferable brute," she countered.

Alaric smirked, tilting his head as he regarded her. "A brute who just saved you from falling flat on your face."

"I had it under control," she lied, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Oh? Is that what you call flailing?" His fingers flexed slightly at her waist, a teasing gesture that made something in her stomach tighten.

She huffed. "If you let me go, I can prove that I can walk perfectly fine on my own."

Alaric didn’t release her immediately. His gaze flickered over her face, searching. For what, she wasn’t sure. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed dramatically.

"Well, if you insist."

With the slightest smirk still playing on his lips, he loosened his grip and took a step back. Zara barely had time to steady herself before he released her completely.

The moment his hands left her waist, she wobbled, just slightly. Not enough to fall, but enough for him to see.

His smirk deepened.

Zara clenched her jaw, squaring her shoulders. "Not. A. Word."

Alaric chuckled, his voice low and rich. "Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it."

Zara shot him a glare before spinning on her heel, determined to put as much distance between them as possible. But even as she strode down the pathway, she could still feel the weight of his gaze lingering on her.

And gods help her, but she liked it.

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