The holy ruler

Chapter 7 continued

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As the heavy oak door slammed shut, Anastasia sank deeper into her chair, the weight of her father’s decree bearing down on her like a stormcloud. Mary and Adam were to wed. Her father had made that decision with the same cold efficiency he used in ruling his court—a move to secure Charles’s place on the throne. And, as always, Anastasia was left in the shadows, an expendable pawn in his ceaseless game of power.

Her lips curved into a bitter smile as she replayed the scene in her mind. Mary’s face had crumpled with shock and confusion, while Adam looked as though he’d been sentenced to death. Yet it was Anastasia who had laughed—a sharp, hollow sound that echoed in her own ears. How predictable. How utterly foolish to expect anything more.

The laughter had been a mask, hiding the despair she now felt as she pressed a trembling hand to her temple. Her curls tumbled forward, cascading like a dark waterfall over her shoulders, their usual softness weighed down by the oppressive tension in the air.

Before she could fully retreat into her thoughts, Kye burst into the room, his strides purposeful and unrelenting. He didn’t speak at first. Instead, he dropped to one knee before her, his intense, dark gaze meeting hers as though searching for the answers she didn’t yet have.

“Anastasia,” he began, his voice low but firm, his eyes full of emotion. “You cannot let them defeat you. Not like this.”

She blinked, startled by the desperation in his tone. “Defeat me? Kye, I was never even in the game to begin with. I’m just a pawn, moved and sacrificed as they see fit.” Her voice cracked, betraying the vulnerability she fought so hard to suppress.

“You’re no pawn,” Kye countered, his tone growing sharper. He reached for her hand, his grip warm and steady, grounding her as her emotions threatened to spiral. “You’re a queen, Anastasia. You’ve always been a queen. They just refuse to see it.”

His words hit her with a force she hadn’t anticipated. “What does it matter what they see? My father has made his decision. Mary will marry Adam, and I...” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“You will rise above them.” Kye’s voice was steady, resolute. His fingers tightened around hers, his gaze unwavering. “Your father thinks he’s controlling the board, but he’s forgotten the power of a queen. You don’t need Adam. You don’t need their approval. You need to think bigger.”

“Bigger?” she echoed, her brow furrowing.

Kye leaned closer, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The King of France,” he said. “He’s already infatuated with you, Anastasia. You could see it at the funeral. His eyes never left you. He’s a means to an end, a way to secure power they could never take from you.”

She recoiled slightly, shaking her head. “The King of France is a vile man, Kye. He’s cruel and arrogant. I could never—”

“Could never what?” Kye interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “Endure his company? Manipulate his desires? Use his obsession with you to your advantage? You are stronger than this, Anastasia. Stronger than him, stronger than your father, stronger than all of them.”

Her chest tightened at his words. She hated the idea, hated that it made sense. “Kye...” she began hesitantly.

He stood abruptly, towering over her as his determination blazed in his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm, commanding. “This isn’t just about you. This is about reclaiming control, about ensuring that you’re never used as a pawn again. Do you want to be free? Do you want power? Then you must act.”

Anastasia’s hands trembled in her lap. She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide and glistening. “And what if I fail? What if I lose myself in the process?”

“You won’t,” Kye said confidently, dropping to his knees once more so that their eyes were level. “Because I won’t let you. I will be there, every step of the way. You have my loyalty, my strength—everything I am is yours.”

For a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Anastasia’s mind raced, torn between the revulsion she felt for the plan and the flicker of hope it ignited within her.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You can,” Kye said firmly, cupping her chin and lifting her face to meet his. His touch was both gentle and insistent, his gaze piercing through her doubt. “You will. Because you were born for more than this. And I will not rest until you have what you deserve.”

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded. “If I do this,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute, “I do it for me. Not for my father, not for Mary, not for anyone else. I do it because I deserve more than being a pawn.”

“Good,” Kye said, a slow smile spreading across his face. He released her chin, his hand trailing down to rest over hers. “Then we begin tonight. Together, we will see this through. And when you’re sitting on that throne, ruling France as its queen, they’ll all realize they underestimated you.”

Anastasia took a deep breath, her resolve hardening as Kye’s words settled over her. If she was to play this dangerous game, she would play to win.