Chapter CXII: Seduction
Isabella maintained her composure as she addressed Lord Erkmen, weaving a tale that masked her true intentions. She told him she had been wandering with a small group of her only remaining relatives—Therians from her mother’s side. The men she introduced as her uncles and cousins were, in reality, soldiers—loyal warriors who had accompanied her to protect both her and Lady Clara. Her voice was steady, and her eyes betrayed no fear as she spoke.
Lord Erkmen, intrigued by her story, invited Isabella and her group inside, offering them food and wine. He watched her closely, his gaze lingering on her in a way that made her skin crawl, but she didn’t flinch. She knew she had to keep up the ruse, no matter how revolted she felt.
As they sat in the grand hall, Erkmen mentioned that the Dragon King had visited him a few months ago, desperately searching for her and the son she had taken from him. Isabella feigned distress, her eyes wide with false innocence. "I had to flee the castle," she said, her voice soft and trembling. "One of the king’s concubines was threatening my son… what else could I do?"
Erkmen let out a cruel laugh. “You were always a problem, Isabella. I remember quite well the trouble you caused during my first visit.”
The memory of that time made Isabella’s stomach churn, but she forced herself to smile seductively, playing the role she needed to in order to survive this encounter.
“Well,” Erkmen said, his tone shifting to one of finality, “thanks for stopping by, but the visit is over. I’ll send a messenger to the Dragon, letting him know his bitch is here.”
He gestured to his men, signaling them to arrest the soldiers in Isabella’s entourage. Panic flashed in Isabella’s eyes, but she quickly masked it, pleading with Erkmen to reconsider. “Please, my lord, don’t do this… I only ran away to catch the king’s attention. I was jealous and needed him to look for me, but my son… he’s still with my cousins.”
Erkmen raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “And where are these cousins?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Isabella lied, her voice steady. “But I told them to meet me here, in Rosehall. If you wait another week, you can turn us both in—the prince and I. In the meantime, you would have me here, and the king doesn’t have to know about this special week I spent in your company.”
Erkmen’s eyes narrowed as he considered her offer, the gears in his mind turning. After a long moment of tense silence, he finally nodded, agreeing to her terms. But he made it clear that her so-called “cousins” would still be locked up until they arrived.
Isabella’s heart pounded, but she didn’t let it show. She wasn’t out of danger yet. “Please, my lord,” she added, her voice laced with desperation, “don’t take my cousin, Clara. She’s just my companion, nothing more.”
Erkmen looked at Clara, his gaze cold and calculating. After what felt like an eternity, he agreed.
For a couple of days, Isabella and Clara navigated the treacherous waters of Lord Erkmen’s court, carefully gathering information and devising a plan to secure their victory. The weight of their mission pressed heavily on Isabella, but she concealed her nerves beneath a calm and confident exterior. Every move they made, every conversation they overheard, was crucial in piecing together the puzzle of how to prevent the lighthouse from being lit and the dragon from unleashing its fury upon them.
Erkmen, ever the predator, made his intentions clear when he invited Isabella to his bed. She had anticipated this, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would try to claim her. But Isabella, always quick on her feet, managed to stall him. She told him she was on her “special lady days,” a delicate way of explaining her supposed menstruation. The truth was that she was still bleeding a little from childbirth, but Erkmen didn’t need to know that detail. Thankfully, he bought the lie, though Isabella knew his patience would eventually run thin. She had only bought herself a little more time.
While Isabella kept Erkmen at bay, Clara worked on her own part of the plan. She managed to meet Thao, the dragonrider stationed at Rosehall, and quickly set about charming him. Clara’s beauty and wit were her greatest assets, and she used them expertly to draw Thao in, building a rapport that Isabella hoped would be enough to distract him when the time came.
Isabella’s relentless probing into the workings of the castle paid off when she uncovered a crucial detail: Erkmen was using the same system her father had employed to light the lighthouse. A rope in the royal chambers was connected to a bell in the north tower. If Erkmen or his men pulled the rope, the bell would ring, signaling an archer to fire a flaming arrow at the lighthouse. The fire would blaze at the top, signaling the troops stationed in the north to march south and surround the castle—a death trap for anyone inside.
Isabella allowed herself a small, satisfied smile when she discovered this. The system’s simplicity was its greatest weakness. If they could control the rope, they could stop the signal from being sent. And if they could neutralize the dragonrider, they would eliminate the greatest threat to their success.
Isabella hadn’t seen Clara all day, and the unease gnawing at her grew with each passing hour. She tried to keep her composure, but worry simmered just beneath the surface. The evening meal was a tense affair; Isabella’s thoughts were scattered, her eyes darting to the door each time it creaked open.
Then, finally, Clara appeared. She slipped into the seat beside Isabella, her face calm and composed, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Isabella opened her mouth to ask where she had been, but before she could speak, Clara turned to her and whispered, "It’s done. He’s dead."
Isabella’s breath caught in her throat, and she stared at Clara in shock. Clara’s eyes bore into her with a sharp, steely resolve. "You need to act now," she urged, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Snapping out of her daze, Isabella quickly composed herself. She cast a glance at Lord Erkmen, seated at the high table in the very place her father once occupied. The sight filled her with a surge of determination. She forced a smile, one that she hoped conveyed the right mix of allure and submission, then slowly rose from her seat. Erkmen noticed her immediately, his eyes narrowing with predatory interest as she subtly signaled for him to follow her.
In the dimly lit corridor, Erkmen caught up with her. His breath was hot against her neck as he leaned in, his voice a rough whisper. "I’ve been waiting."
Isabella, fighting the urge to recoil, smiled sweetly. "I’m no longer bleeding," she announced, her voice soft, almost coy.
“Good,” Erkmen growled, reaching out to grab her. But Isabella deftly sidestepped him, keeping her tone light and teasing. "Please, my lord," she said, "bring me to your room. I am a lady, after all."
Erkmen, fueled by desire, barely registered the shift in her demeanor. With a hungry grin, he grabbed her wrist and began leading her down the corridor, oblivious to the storm that was about to break upon him. Isabella followed, her heart pounding, but her resolve unwavering. The time had come to finish what they had started.
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