KING'S QUEEN

Cracks in the ice

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Third pov

Meera sat by the window of her chambers, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. The conversation with Arad in the library still lingered in her mind, replaying over and over again. His words had been sharp, cruel, as always, but there had been something else beneath them-a flicker of vulnerability, of pain. It had shaken her, not because she felt sympathy for him, but because it made her question everything she thought she knew about the man.

She hated him. She hated how he treated her, how he had trapped her in this marriage for power, how he used her like a pawn in his twisted game. And yet, there was a small part of her that wondered if beneath all that hatred, there was something else-something he didn't want to admit, even to himself.

But she couldn't dwell on it. She had to stay focused. This was her life now, and she had to survive. The officials still looked for ways to undermine her, and the other wives-especially Arad's second wife, Zubaira-continued to plot behind her back. Meera knew she was walking a tightrope, and one wrong step could send her tumbling into the abyss.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. It was one of the palace servants, bowing respectfully before her.

"Your Highness, the king has summoned you to the council chambers."

Meera's heart sank. The council chambers were where Arad met with his advisors and officials to discuss matters of the kingdom. Her presence there was unusual, and given the tension between them, she wasn't sure what to expect. But she couldn't refuse the king's summons, so she rose, adjusted her veil, and followed the servant through the winding halls of the palace.

When she entered the council chambers, the atmosphere was tense. Arad sat at the head of the long table, his expression cold and impassive. The officials around him glanced at her with disdain, their disapproval clear. Zubaira sat nearby, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk, as if she knew something Meera didn't.

"Meera," Arad said, his voice low and commanding. "We are discussing matters concerning your kingdom, and I thought it appropriate for you to be present."

Meera's eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn't like Arad to include her in political discussions, especially not ones concerning her homeland. This wasn't a gesture of goodwill; it was something else. A test, perhaps? Or another way to remind her of her place?

Still, she kept her head high and moved to sit beside him, ignoring the whispers from the other officials.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice calm despite the tension in the room. "I appreciate the opportunity to contribute."

Arad's gaze flicked toward her, his expression unreadable, and then he turned back to the officials. The conversation resumed, with discussions about trade agreements, alliances, and the ongoing conflicts at the borders. Meera listened carefully, absorbing every word. She might have been new to this world, but she wasn't naive. If she was going to survive here, she needed to understand the dynamics at play.

As the meeting dragged on, Meera noticed that Zubaira's smirk hadn't faded. There was a glint in her eyes, something malicious. Meera couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming-something meant to hurt her.

And she was right.

Toward the end of the meeting, one of the officials, a tall, slim man named Feroz, leaned forward and spoke, his voice dripping with false concern. "Your Majesty," he began, addressing Arad, "there have been whispers among the people... about the new queen. Some are questioning whether a Hindu queen can truly represent our kingdom, especially given the... delicate nature of our religious and cultural differences."

Meera's blood ran cold. This was it. The trap.

Feroz's words were calculated, meant to cast doubt not only on her ability to rule but on her very presence in the kingdom. The other officials murmured in agreement, and Meera could feel their eyes on her, waiting for her reaction. Even Zubaira's smile widened, as if she had orchestrated this moment herself.

Arad remained silent, his expression unreadable. Meera's heart raced. She knew that how she responded now could define her future in the palace. If she faltered, if she showed weakness, she would never be able to recover.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke, her voice steady but firm. "I understand the concerns," she said, her eyes meeting Feroz's without wavering. "But this marriage was not only a political alliance but a symbol of unity between two great cultures. It is true that I am not of the same faith as many in this kingdom, but I have nothing but respect for its people, its traditions, and its beliefs."

The room fell silent. Meera continued, her voice growing stronger. "I may be different, but that difference does not make me incapable. It makes me more aware of the importance of harmony and cooperation. I am committed to this kingdom, just as I am committed to the responsibilities that come with being its queen."

For a moment, no one spoke. Meera could feel the weight of the room pressing down on her, the tension thick in the air. Feroz's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly displeased with her response, but before he could say anything more, Arad spoke.

"My queen speaks with wisdom," he said, his tone neutral, though his words held a finality that couldn't be ignored. "The marriage was indeed a union of strength, and anyone who questions it questions my decision."

The room went still. Meera was stunned. She had expected Arad to remain silent or, worse, to agree with Feroz. But instead, he had defended her, in his own way. It wasn't an expression of support or kindness-far from it. It was more a statement of power, a reminder to everyone in the room that his decisions were not to be questioned.

Feroz bowed his head slightly. "Of course, Your Majesty. Forgive me if I overstepped."

The meeting ended shortly after, and the officials filed out, leaving Meera and Arad alone in the chamber. She watched him carefully, unsure of what to say. He hadn't spoken a word to her since his defense, and she wasn't sure if she should thank him or leave without comment.

But Arad didn't give her a chance to decide. He stood and walked toward the door, his posture as rigid and closed off as ever.

"You handled yourself well today," he said without looking at her, his voice cool. "But don't think for a moment that this changes anything between us."

Meera swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "I don't," she replied quietly.

Without another word, Arad left the room, leaving Meera standing there, her mind spinning.

He had defended her, yes, but it hadn't been for her sake. It was about power. Control. He was reminding everyone-including her-that he was the one pulling the strings.

But as Meera left the chamber, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. The cracks in Arad's icy exterior were small, barely visible, but they were there. And though she didn't know what they meant yet, she knew that they would only grow deeper with time.

This was just the beginning.

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