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...
Lidiya’s heart raced as the guards surrounded her. She had only seconds to process what was happening. One moment she stood basking in the brief triumph of the queen’s favor, and the next, she was being dragged away, her vision blurring from shock.
"What are you doing?" she gasped, her voice trembling with disbelief as the guard yanked her back harshly by her arm.
"Well my dear, we may need you stay with us for a bit till we can confirm what you say is true. Don't worry you will be fine. The queen responded with a sly gaze. Before Lidiya could respond the queen stood up and left from the hall.
“The queen has changed her mind,” one of the guards sneered. “You will now be her prisoner. A pawn to lure the one you speak of—Zidane Witchane.”
Her heart sank as the truth dawned on her. I was a fool to trust her! I’ve walked right into the lion’s den.
Before Lidiya could react, one of the guards tore at her dress, ripping the delicate fabric and sending the pearls cascading to the ground like shattered dreams. She fell to her knees in the palace hall, the cold stones biting into her skin as the guards laughed cruelly, closing in on her like vultures. Desperation clawed at her chest. This was it—she was alone, broken, and helpless, and no one would come to her rescue.
Tears burned her eyes as the thought of Oswen flashed in her mind. Was all of this for nothing? Did I fight so hard only to be discarded like this? She tried to crawl away, but her body was too weak from the terror that consumed her.
Just when she thought she would be torn apart, a shadow loomed over her. A man with snow-white hair stepped forward, his weathered face stern, his presence commanding the space around him. He moved quickly, standing between her and the guards. With one swift motion, he flung his coat around her, shielding her from their view. Lidiya blinked up at him, her tear-filled eyes wide with shock. Those eyes... where have I seen them before?
The guards lunged forward to strike the man, but he moved with surprising speed and precision, deflecting their blows with ease. His fists connected with their jaws, sending one crashing to the ground, while the other stumbled back in disbelief. The old man’s strength was almost unnatural, as if he were far more than he appeared to be.
Lidiya clutched the coat tightly around her torn dress, her heart pounding as she watched the fight unfold. The guards, though skilled, were no match for this mysterious man. Within moments, they lay unconscious on the ground, groaning in pain.
Without a word, the man bent down and scooped Lidiya into his arms, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. She was too stunned to resist, her head spinning with confusion and fear. As they fled from the palace grounds, Lidiya couldn’t stop staring at his face. Something about him tugged at her memories—something familiar yet impossible to place.
They reached an old, abandoned house deep in the forest just outside the city. The man set her down gently on the worn-out sofa in the dusty room, the moonlight streaming through the cracked windows casting eerie shadows on the floor. Lidiya’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as she tried to regain her composure. She glanced down at the coat still wrapped around her and then back up at the man.
“Who... who are you?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
The man stood by the window, his back to her, his posture rigid. For a long moment, he said nothing, the silence stretching between them like a taut string. Then, slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes—those same familiar eyes—locking onto hers.
"It seems you have forgotten me already, little bird," he said, his voice low and rough, but there was something unmistakable in the way he said it.
Lidiya’s breath caught in her throat as realization hit her like a tidal wave. "Zidane...?" she whispered, barely able to believe the word as it left her lips.
His lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. “Did you really think you could escape me that easily?”
Her blood ran cold. The man before her—the one who had just saved her—was none other than the monster she had been running from. Zindane, with his hair now white, stood before her as both savior and captor.
Lidiya’s world shattered once again. The terror, the betrayal, the confusion—it all collided inside her, leaving her breathless. "Why... why would you save me?" she stammered, her heart hammering in her chest.
Zindane took a step toward her, his eyes darkening as his voice dropped to a whisper. "Because, my dear Lidiya, you belong to me. No one else will lay a hand on you. Not the queen, not the guards—no one but me." He crouched down in front of her, his face inches from hers. "And if you think for one moment that you can play this game against me and win... you are sorely mistaken."
Lidiya’s hands trembled, but she clenched her fists, summoning whatever strength she had left. "I won’t let you control me anymore," she spat, her voice filled with defiance, though her body trembled with fear.
Zindane’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it—only cold, calculating darkness. “We shall see,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “We shall see.”
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