Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 153: Spell

Chapter 153: Spell

"Your king is falling under the spell of your goddess," Dorian replied, leaning.

For a full second, Alaric’s mind went blank then sparked. The king, smitten with the goddess. A pawn falling for the very piece meant to be moved around the board? Ordinarily, this might have been cause for concern but Alaric wasn’t ordinary. And the idea wasn’t entirely unappealing. If Herod fell hard enough, he’d finally find a way to be rid of Queen Eliza. That particular royal burden had been chafing at Alaric’s larger plans for a while now. And if Eliza was removed, neatly and violently? Well, then... wasn’t that fate doing his work for him?

A smile curled across Alaric’s face.

"You may go," he said, waving Dorian off. "I will handle it."

Dorian tilted his head, deeply skeptical. Still, he shrugged and left.

*****

Herod strolled through the corridor like a man freshly kissed by spring. His smile refused to fade. That woman was something else. She laughed like the world hadn’t tried to break her. She teased him like she’d known him for years. She found joy in the strangest corners of the day, and Herod, poor fool that he was, kept wanting to chase after that joy.

He pushed open the doors to his chambers, expecting peace, maybe to replay Ava’s laughter in his mind again.

Instead, he walked straight into a royal thundercloud.

Queen Eliza stood there in a red gown, her arms crossed, her chin high. Her eyes, sharp and unforgiving.

Herod didn’t break stride.

He brushed past her like she was a curtain in the wind. "I really need to tell the guards to stop you from accessing my chambers without permission," he muttered.

"I am your queen!"

Herod turned slowly, the echo of Ava’s smile still somewhere in his heart but quickly fading. "A queen I did not want!" he snapped back, his eyes dark with exhaustion—not from lack of sleep, but from the weight of a crown he never asked for and a marriage he never chose.

"I gave you a crown you so desired," he said, stepping closer, not with malice but with a kind of pained finality. "It is all I have to give to you."

"You think all I wanted was a crown, Herod?"

Herod’s laugh was bitter. "Isn’t it? You jumped at the opportunity to wear it, didn’t you? You didn’t even blink when my parents asked you to take your sister’s place, did you?"

There was so much unsaid between them, the ghosts of what might have been choking the air. They had been children, pawns in a political game. Herod had given Eliza his name, his status, his kingdom—but not his heart.

"I have given you what you wanted. Don’t ask me for more."

Eliza stared at him, eyes shining with heartbreak.

Neither of them moved.

"All I wanted was you. Not the crown, you," Eliza said, her eyes shimmering with vulnerability. "I admit, I was jealous of my sister, but not because you chose her to be queen. Because you were always the man I loved."

Herod’s lips curled into a bitter smile. "Is that what you want? You want me to love you?" His laugh rang through the chamber. "You!"

He took a step closer, the fury in his voice a slow boil. "People say I am a terrible king. Wicked. Merciless. And you know what? I am. But you, Eliza..." He pointed a trembling finger at her. "You are a terrible human being."

The accusation stung more than she let on. Her chin lifted defiantly, but Herod wasn’t done.

"You say you have no idea what happened to your sister but you and I both know that’s a lie. Don’t we? Now get out of my room!"

But Eliza wasn’t done either. "You don’t seem too heartbroken about her disappearance anymore. You have been for about two decades but not anymore. I wonder why. Is it because of your new conquest?" Her eyes narrowed, her voice dripping venom. "The one who’s going to replace me?"

That stopped Herod cold. His heartbeat stuttered. "She does have her usefulness," he said quietly.

"Is it just her usefulness, or are you, the mighty, terrible, wicked, merciless King Herod..." she stepped closer, her breath warm on his cheek, "falling for her? Another man’s mate. Carrying another man’s child."

"Get. Out," he growled.

Eliza’s expression hardened. "She better be useful quite soon. Because you were right about one thing." She turned, her hair sweeping the air. "I am a terrible human being. And no one is going to take my place."

The heavy doors slammed behind her.

Herod exhaled slowly and dragged a hand through his hair, pacing. That made two people now who had it out for Ava. Eliza driven by jealousy and a love that he would actually define as hatred and Dorian, with his revenge scheme.

*****

Ava was escorted to the palace courtyard by two stoic guards who could have easily passed for statues if not for the occasional blink or cough. Her silk gown fluttered behind her and she could feel the sun casting honeyed rays over her hair. It should’ve been a peaceful walk, but Ava’s stomach was doing backflips from the gnawing sense of unease she couldn’t shake.

Despite Herod being an absolute sweetheart. He had been doting. Obnoxiously so. He took care of her every need, held her hand and looked at her like she was a goddess. And the baby? He acted like it was the Messiah reincarnated. Still, something in Ava whispered danger. It was like her instincts hadn’t forgotten something her brain had.

In the center of the courtyard, King Herod stood. Ava approached him, dipping into a graceful curtsy.

"Your Highness," she greeted.

Herod took her hand gently in his. His hands were warm, solid. A little calloused. "I want you to see the town with me," he said. "I want you to see what we’re up against, and to know what we have to do to fix things."

"What’s going on? How can I help?"

@kie: I would really love to hear your thoughts.

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