KING'S QUEEN

the hidden thorns

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THIRD PERSON POV ,

The next morning, Meera awoke with a sharper focus, her mind fixed on her position and the power she could wield if she played her cards right. She knew Zubaira was still seething from the night before, and Meera could feel the pressure of the silent war unfolding between them. If she was to survive here, she needed allies—and she needed information.

As she walked through the palace that morning, Meera passed by Ayan’s quarters and paused. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, she could hear soft giggles and voices. Peeking inside, she saw Ayan and his younger sister, Lutfanisa, surrounded by toys and laughter. For a moment, she watched them, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The two children were the one reprieve from the coldness of the palace. Despite her own inner battles, Meera found herself drawn to them, their innocence a balm to her hardened resolve. She stepped in quietly, and Ayan looked up, his face breaking into a smile.

“Meera-jaan!” he greeted, running over to her with open arms.

Meera knelt down, hugging him tightly. “Good morning, Ayan. And you too, little Lutfanisa,” she said, smiling at the little girl who was watching her with big, curious eyes.

She spent some time with the children, letting them chatter and laugh, the weight of the palace politics momentarily forgotten. As she played with them, she noticed that Ayan, despite his young age, seemed acutely aware of the palace’s tensions. He hesitated before mentioning anything about his father, and his eyes would dart to the door whenever he heard footsteps.

“Ayan,” she asked softly, “are you worried about something?”

He glanced at her, his little face filled with a wisdom that seemed beyond his years. “Sometimes, the other queens… they say things about you. They say… you don’t belong here.”

Meera’s heart twisted, but she forced a calm smile. “You don’t need to worry about that, Ayan. Sometimes grown-ups say things that aren’t true, and it doesn’t mean we have to believe them.”

He nodded, but she could see the concern still lingering in his eyes. She hugged him tightly, hoping her presence would reassure him. She had a duty to these children, she realized—a duty to protect them from the shadows lurking in the palace.

As she left Ayan’s quarters, she encountered Arad in the hallway. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes when he saw her coming from the children’s wing.

“Visiting the children, I see,” he remarked, his voice neutral.

“They’re your children,” Meera replied, lifting her chin. “If I’m to live here, they’re as much a part of my life as anything else.”

Arad’s gaze softened, if only slightly. “You’re not required to spend time with them, Meera. They are the responsibility of the palace staff and my other wives.”

She met his gaze, defiance simmering in her eyes. “The palace staff may care for them, but they need more than that. They need a parent who is present and who doesn’t view them as merely heirs.”

Arad’s eyes flickered with a flash of something—annoyance, perhaps, or maybe a hint of guilt. “You think I don’t care for my children?”

She didn’t flinch under his gaze. “I think they need to feel safe, and in this palace, that’s hard to come by.”

There was a moment of silence between them, thick with tension and unsaid words. For once, Arad didn’t have a sharp retort, and Meera could see the conflict in his eyes. Before he could say anything, a guard approached, bowing low.

“Your Majesty,” the guard said, addressing Arad, “the council awaits your presence.”

Arad gave a curt nod, his gaze lingering on Meera for a moment longer before he turned to leave. But as he walked away, she felt the weight of his presence, as if he was still studying her, still trying to understand her.

LATER THAT DAY

Meera joined a few palace attendants in the garden, where she hoped to overhear any tidbits about the ongoing alliance discussions. Zubaira had mentioned it with such subtle provocation at the dinner, and Meera was certain it was part of a larger scheme.

As she sat under the shade of a tree, pretending to read a book, she caught snippets of a conversation between two officials passing by.

“…the second queen’s influence is growing,” one of them muttered. “She’s securing alliances quietly, but it’s all under the guise of loyalty to the king.”

The other official nodded. “Yes, but we all know she has ambitions of her own. She’s no fool; she understands the power dynamics better than anyone.”

Meera’s mind raced. Zubaira was not just trying to undermine her; she was building her own network within the palace, using her connections to tighten her grip. Meera realized that Zubaira was positioning herself to control the flow of power, silently undercutting Arad’s authority.

Determined not to be outmaneuvered, Meera decided to find her own ally in the palace. And she knew exactly who to turn to—General Qasim. He was a shrewd, experienced man who had been loyal to Arad for years, but Meera sensed that he had a keen sense of politics that might make him receptive to her plans.

That evening, Meera arranged for a private meeting with Qasim under the pretense of discussing palace security. As they sat in her chambers, she spoke carefully, her words chosen to test the waters.

“General,” she began, “I wanted to discuss the security arrangements around the palace, especially concerning the children. With so many political tensions, I fear for their safety.”

Qasim’s eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. “You are wise to be concerned, Queen Meera. The palace is indeed a place of… hidden dangers.”

She leaned forward, her tone earnest. “The children deserve to grow up without fear, and as much as I respect the king’s rule, I can see that others may have different motives.”

Qasim’s expression softened slightly. “You see more than most, Queen Meera. The palace can be ruthless, and not all who claim loyalty to the king have pure intentions.”

Meera nodded, sensing she had his attention. “I know I’m not favored here, but my loyalty lies with the king and his family. If I am to be of any use, I need to understand who I can trust.”

Qasim’s gaze was unreadable, but after a moment, he inclined his head. “You speak with conviction, Queen Meera. I will advise you, but remember that loyalty is hard-earned in this palace. If you show strength, perhaps others will begin to see you as more than just an outsider.”

Meera took his words to heart. She had gained a tentative ally, but she knew that trust was fragile here. Still, it was a start. If she could secure Qasim’s support, she would have a foundation to stand on, a way to counteract Zubaira’s influence.

As Qasim left, Meera felt a newfound confidence building within her. She wasn’t just surviving anymore—she was beginning to see the path forward, the steps she would need to take to claim her place in the palace.

That night, as she lay in bed, Meera allowed herself a moment of quiet triumph. She was no longer the powerless queen thrust into a world of intrigue and manipulation. She was learning the rules of the game, and she was ready to play.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Arad, with his unreadable gaze and calculating mind, was watching her every move. For all her careful planning, she knew that he was still the greatest enigma of all—and the most dangerous piece on the board.

And as she drifted to sleep, she wondered if there would come a day when he would either become her greatest ally… or her most formidable enemy.