Lidiya never thought her life would lead her here-to a marriage with a man she barely knew in the remote village of Roxana. But as a poor farmer's daughter, her fate was never truly hers to choose. She hadn't imagined her wedding night would be one...
As Lidiya prepared to sing before the queen, unaware of Zindane's presence, she took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. Her voice would carry not only the melody of the song but also the weight of everything she had endured. She would sing for herself, for Oswen’s betrayal, and for the justice she sought.
Zindane watched her from across the grand hall, his eyes narrowing. This was his chance—his only chance. He couldn’t lose her now.
The moment Lidiya's voice filled the grand hall, it was as if the entire world stopped. Every head turned toward her, and the bustling palace fell into a stunned silence. Her voice, rich and haunting, wrapped around each listener, pulling them into the melody. It was a sound no one had expected from the timid village girl who had walked into their midst. Even Zindane, hidden in the shadows, felt a strange mix of shock and pride swell in his chest. He had no idea she had such a gift, this voice that could silence a room. She is my wife, he thought, his lips curving into a small, begrudging smile. Even if by force.
As Lidiya’s final note echoed in the grand hall, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. The queen herself rose from her ornate throne, a gesture so rare that even the nobility in the room gasped in astonishment. Her majesty, resplendent in a gown of deep crimson and adorned with jewels from head to toe, walked gracefully toward Lidiya. The queen’s eyes gleamed with approval as she slipped one of her diamond rings from her finger, holding it out as a reward.
"You have a gift, my dear," the queen said, her voice regal yet warm. "Take this as a token of my admiration."
Lidiya, breathless from the performance, felt her heart pound. But instead of accepting the ring, she knelt before the queen, her eyes shimmering not with greed but with determination.
"Your Majesty, I cannot accept your ring," Lidiya said, her voice trembling slightly, but there was steel behind her words. "Instead, I ask for your help. A favor, if I may."
The room fell silent again, whispers swirling around the courtiers. Zindane, still watching from his concealed spot, narrowed his eyes. What is she up to? he wondered. This was not the timid, broken woman he had expected to find. His little bird, it seemed, had claws. Clever girl, he mused, a smirk creeping across his face. This is getting interesting.
The queen tilted her head, intrigued by Lidiya’s boldness. "A favor?" she asked, her tone curious but stern. "What could a humble singer want from me, the queen?"
Lidiya swallowed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. This was it—the moment she had waited for. "I seek justice, Your Majesty," she began, her voice steady despite the knot of fear in her stomach. "My husband was murdered, and I have been tormented since. The man responsible for his death walks free, and I beg for your intervention to put an end to his cruelty."
Zindane’s smirk faded, his eyes darkening. Murdered? The audacity of it. She was clever, but she had forgotten that he could end this game whenever he wanted. His fists clenched as he fought to control his anger. Not yet, he told himself. Let’s see how far she goes.
The queen, her brow furrowed, studied Lidiya carefully. "Who is this man you speak of?"
Lidiya glanced around the room, her heart racing as she felt Zindane's presence nearby, but she steeled herself. "His name is Zindane, and he has tormented me since my husband’s death. I ask for your protection and justice for my husband’s spirit."
The queen’s gaze sharpened, and murmurs swept through the hall as the name echoed in the grand room. Zindane's name was known, but no one dared speak of him openly.
Zindane's blood ran cold. He had underestimated her. This was no plea for protection; this was a calculated attack. He could see it now—she was using the queen’s favor to paint him as a villain in front of the entire court. And worse, the queen might listen.
His jaw clenched as he watched the queen’s eyes darken with thought.
The queen’s lips curled into a slow, sinister smile, her eyebrow raised in amusement. She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and cruelty. "Tell me more," she said, her voice like velvet hiding the edge of a blade. "Are you referring to the bastard son of the late King—Zidane Witchane?" she asked, glancing over at Otto, who had been watching the exchange with a sly grin.
Otto’s voice cut through the tension, filled with disdain and mockery. "Ah, yes. The one who inherited both his father’s dark blood and twisted ways. Is that the man you're accusing?" He chuckled darkly, raising his glass to his lips.
Zindane’s heart pounded in his chest, the seething rage boiling beneath his calm exterior. Bastard son, they said, like a curse. Every second, with every word spoken against him, his desire to tear this palace apart grew. He could feel the flames of his wrath begging to be unleashed. The urge to destroy them all was overwhelming, but he stood still, cloaked in his disguise, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. Not now, he reminded himself. Not yet.
Lidiya, standing tall despite the pounding fear in her heart, nodded firmly. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said, her voice unwavering. "He is evil, a monster who abuses not only his physical strength but his cursed magic as well. With it, he has trapped my husband’s spirit, forcing his restless soul to suffer endlessly." Her voice cracked slightly at the end, but her conviction was clear.
The queen tilted her head, her smile widening. "Is that so?" she mused, her tone light, but her eyes shone with malicious interest. "And what would you have me do, dear Lidiya? Bring this monster to justice? Should I order my guards to hunt down this cursed son of the king and rid the land of his wickedness?"
The queen’s mockery was sharp, yet Lidiya’s heart did not waver. She had come too far to back down now, even though every instinct in her screamed that she was playing a dangerous game. She could feel Zindane’s fury even without looking at him, his presence heavy in the room, hidden but not far.
"Please, Your Majesty," Lidiya said, her voice soft but determined. "I beg for your protection and for justice for my husband’s tormented soul. Only you can stop him. Only you have the power to end this nightmare."
The hall was silent, all eyes on the queen as she considered Lidiya’s plea. Zindane, hidden among the guests, barely contained the storm inside him. His fingers itched to cast his dark magic, to turn this court into ashes. But something held him back—perhaps it was the sight of Lidiya, standing so boldly before the queen, challenging him in front of everyone. So, my little bird thinks she can outplay me? he thought, a wicked grin spreading across his face beneath the disguise.
The queen leaned back, her fingers drumming on her armrest. "This sounds like quite the tale," she said, almost laughing. "A husband’s trapped soul, dark magic, and the bastard prince. Otto, what do you think?"
Otto’s grin widened, but his eyes narrowed in thought. "It is a fascinating story, indeed," he said slowly, watching Lidiya with renewed interest. "But the question remains... why now? What drove you, dear Lidiya, to seek this justice at this very moment?"
Lidiya felt her breath catch. Why now? She hadn't anticipated this question. For a brief second, panic surged through her. But she quickly regained her composure. "Because, my lord, I could no longer stand by and let my husband’s soul suffer while I remained powerless. I had to act—before it was too late."
Zindane’s patience snapped. He could feel the game slipping away, the tension in the air thickening as the queen and Otto toyed with Lidiya like a cat with a mouse. His eyes darkened further. This will not end the way she thinks.
Just as he was about to make his move, the queen clapped her hands together, silencing the whispers and murmurs around the hall.
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