Born to be Empress

Chapter 11 - The fortune teller

Phaedra's pov:

The next day arrived swiftly. Sunlight streamed through the small window, its brightness stark against the dimness of my cell. My mouth was sore, and my stomach growled in protest. Life in the palace had made me soft. Back in my village, I could go days without food and barely feel it. Now, every pang of hunger felt sharper, more insistent. My body ached, and I felt utterly drained. I wasn't in the mood to move, so I let myself drift back to sleep—until a sudden, sharp kick to my stomach jolted me awake.

-"Get up, you slut," a guard barked, his tone dripping with menace.

I blinked, disoriented. "What... what's going on?" I mumbled. But before I could gather my thoughts, the guard seized my arm and hauled me to my feet, forcing me to stumble along beside him.

We left the cell and headed toward the stairs. "Where are you taking me?" I demanded, but my question was met with cold silence. The guard kept walking, his pace brisk and unrelenting. I struggled to keep up, tripping over my own feet as he dragged me forward.

Eventually, we entered the throne room. It was empty, granting me a moment to take in my surroundings. The grandeur of the space was overwhelming. Gold and crimson dominated the decor, exuding an air of power and wealth. At the center stood a magnificent golden throne, upholstered with rich red velvet. Its legs were carved into the forms of lions, their fierce visages adding to the room's imposing atmosphere. Behind the throne, the kingdom's coat of arms was displayed prominently—a red dragon emblazoned on a black background.

The guard dragged me to the middle of the room and released me, leaving me standing there to wait. I had no choice but to comply. After a tense silence, the Emperor entered. His presence was overwhelming, almost divine. He moved with the grace and authority of a Greek god. Dressed in his black armor, he exuded a sense of power that left no room for doubt.

Without a word, he ascended to his throne and took his seat, signaling the guard to leave us. The guard bowed deeply before disappearing, leaving me alone with the Emperor.

-"Approach," came the Emperor's voice, loud and commanding. His face was stern, jaw tightly clenched, and his posture rigid as steel.

I took a few timid steps forward, my head bowed in submission. The weight of his gaze was palpable, like it was burning holes through me.

-"Closer," he ordered, his tone cold and unyielding.

I hesitated but obeyed, shuffling a few more steps closer. My body trembled, a mix of exhaustion and fear. I was in terrible shape—both physically and mentally. Three days without food or a bath had left me a mess, and I could only imagine how awful I must look. Despite my best efforts, I struggled to hold myself together, my legs weak beneath me.

-"I called you here to inform you," the Emperor began, his voice cutting through the silence, "that you will be imprisoned for a long time... or perhaps hanged."

-"What?!" I blurted, unable to hide my shock. "Why? My jail term ends tomorrow."

His piercing gaze didn't waver. "You've been accused."

-"Accused? Of what? " I demanded, my voice shaky yet insistent.

-"Of poisoning the palace that day with the apple juice."

-"What?" I stared at him, wide-eyed, my mind racing.

He leaned forward slightly, his tone sharp and probing. "When it became known that you were imprisoned, certain individuals came before me, accusing you of poisoning the apple juice."

-"Who are they?" I asked, my voice laced with desperation.

-"That is of no importance," he said dismissively. His words carried the weight of finality. "What matters is this: the situation is dire for you. If you want to see another day, answer me truthfully. How did you know that the apple juice was poisoned?"