The Death of a Tyrant's Concubine

CHAPTER 09 - Change in plans

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Two weeks before the Royal Hunt, Sylvos returned from his battle. Though calling it such felt like an insult to warfare itself. Rumor from the ladies of Clover Castle painted it as nothing short of a slaughter.

Whatever resistance the rebellious cities attempted was stamped out with ruthless efficiency beneath the weight of Sylvos' forces. Of all the cities, Oldvale had borne the brunt of his wrath. Sylvos, it seemed, had restrained himself from using Briarvex through much of the campaign, reserving the cursed sword's dark magic for Oldvale alone.

No one spoke of the details, but I'd seen the ruin that sword could bring.

"Talia, silence yourself before I stitch that mouth of yours shut," Virella hissed beside me.

Poor Talia stifled a sob, her red-rimmed eyes cast downward. Since hearing of Oldvale's fate, she had not stopped weeping even once. Her usually lively brown eyes streaked with sorrow, her mousy hair limp against her shoulders.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." she whispered, choking back fresh tears. "My family..."

"For the love of—" Virella sighed, her voice filled with impatience. "Shut it, Talia. I'm serious."

"Try to hold it for later," I urged the smaller woman.

All hundred concubines and the full assembly of Dornhold Castle's servants lined the courtyard, waiting for the emperor's return. As Sylvos ascended the fortress steps, his army falling into perfect rank behind him, a hush fell over the gathered crowd. When he crossed the threshold of the towering thornwood gates, the courtyard sank into a collective bow.

I dared a glance at him. Dark, blood-stained armor clung to his tall frame, and a tattered black cape dragged behind. My gaze lingered on Briarvex strapped to his back. The thorn sword's intricately engraved blade was stained with dried blood as though Sylvos had been in too great a hurry to have it cleaned.

His gaze drifted over the concubines, lingering on those of us dressed in green. When his black eyes settled on me, a slow, wicked smile twisted his lips.

Heat rushed to my face as I dropped my eyes to the cold stone beneath my feet, willing myself to disappear. I had grown so accustomed to the comforts of his absence that the sight of him instantly set me on edge.

The courtyard was swallowed in silence, broken only by the echo of Sylvos' boots against the stone as he strode toward me.

Lady Virella and Talia tensed at my sides. Talia held her breath, trying her best to stop from weeping too loudly.

"Rise, Princess," Sylvos greeted teasingly.

With reluctance, I straightened, careful to keep my face as neutral as stone.

His silver hair was a tangled mess beneath his jagged crown, as though he'd ridden through hell itself to arrive here.

"So," he said, his dark smile deepening, "did it work?"

I blinked, struggling to understand.

"Pardon, Your Majesty... did what work?"

He leaned in closer, his grin widening.

"You said absence makes the heart grow fonder. Did it work?"

I stifled the urge to laugh at his face.

How did he remember my words from all those weeks ago?

"It did," I replied. "My heart has grown very fond of your absence, Your Majesty."