Chapter CXIV: Poison

The King stormed into the harem, his heart pounding with a fury he had never felt before. His eyes zeroed in on Lady Dara, heavily pregnant and being prepared for bed by her maids. Without a second thought, he rushed forward, grabbing her by the arms and shoving her into the wall—not too hard, but enough to make her gasp in shock.

Dara’s eyes widened, her hand instinctively going to her belly. "What—what’s happening?" she stammered, her voice trembling with fear. "My baby!"

The King’s face twisted with rage. "That child isn’t fucking mine! You were already pregnant when you left Rhyk!" he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber.

Dara’s eyes grew even larger, and she began to shake her head, her words coming out in a frantic, stuttering whisper. "No, no, no, that’s not true, it’s not true..."

"Stop lying!" the King bellowed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His mind flashed back to the night of the feast, fragments of memories surfacing like jagged shards. He recalled being carried to his room, his vision blurred, his body heavy. Then, he remembered Dara, stripping off her clothes in front of him. Behind her, someone was slipping out of the room—Senator Arun. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

The King’s expression darkened as he grabbed Dara’s face, squeezing her cheeks with a mix of disbelief and rage. "You poisoned me?" he hissed, the words barely escaping his clenched teeth.

Dara’s eyes filled with tears, and she began to sob, her voice breaking. "Please, stop... I had no choice! Arun wanted the money—he said he would kill me if I didn’t do it!"

"Lies!" the King thundered, his grip on her face tightening. "You were planning this with him all along!"

Dara sobbed harder, her words almost incoherent through her cries. "No, no, I swear! I’m innocent, I just wanted to survive... I wanted to come back to you!"

The King’s eyes burned with fury. "If Arun was threatening you, you could have come to me! I would have had him executed for even thinking of such a crime. But instead, you chose to help him!"

Dara shook her head desperately, tears streaming down her face. "No, no, I would never... I couldn’t bear the thought of you never taking me again if I was pregnant with another man’s child!"

The King’s face twisted in a mixture of disgust and anger. "I never took you again!" he shouted, his voice raw with betrayal.

Suddenly, Dara let out a piercing scream, her entire body convulsing in pain. A gush of liquid ran down her legs, soaking her dress and the floor beneath her. "The baby’s coming!" she cried out, her voice a mixture of fear and agony.

The King’s eyes widened in alarm as he snapped out of his rage, shouting for the maids to help her. "Call the midwives!" he ordered, his voice urgent.

The maids rushed to carry Dara to the bed, her cries echoing through the room as they prepared for the birth. The King’s face hardened as he watched, his emotions a volatile mix of fury and helplessness.
"If she doesn’t die after pushing this child," the King said coldly, his voice low and dangerous, "the guards will come to lock her up."

Dara’s screams filled the room as the midwives hurried in, ready to deliver her child. The King left, his hands trembling with the rage and pain coursing through him.

Lady Belet entered the King’s office, her steps measured, her face calm as she approached his desk. The King didn’t look up, his voice cold and dripping with disdain. “Is she still alive?”

Lady Belet nodded. “Yes, my king, she is.”

A flicker of something dark passed over the King’s face before he buried it beneath a stony expression. Lady Belet continued, “I did exactly as you instructed. The child has been taken to a wet nurse, and Dara has been handed over to the guards. However, I did allow the maids to clean her up first, and I made sure the guards took her bedsheets and pillows to the cell.”

The King took a deep breath, as if trying to push down a wave of emotions. “It’s fine,” he said, his tone flat. “She will be executed for treason soon. Better she doesn’t die in prison anyway.”

Lady Belet hesitated for a moment before asking, “Are you certain you want to make this public? Wouldn’t discretion be more appropriate, especially with the Senator still missing?”

The King’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “By making Dara’s execution public, there’s a chance Isabella will hear of it and come back from wherever she’s hiding.”

Lady Belet regarded him thoughtfully. “And what do you plan to do with her once she returns?”

The King’s gaze grew distant, his voice softening slightly. “Isabella is the mother of my son. I wouldn’t have her killed; Ikkar would grow up hating me for it.” He paused, his brow furrowing as if struggling with the thought. “I don’t know... Maybe I would just belt her until she’s too sore to run away again.”

They both fell into a heavy silence, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. The King suddenly laughed, a bitter sound that echoed in the room. “Who am I trying to fool?” He shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “The moment I set eyes on her again, I wouldn’t be able to do anything but take off her clothes and love her over and over again.”

Lady Belet’s eyes softened as she observed the King. “You miss her.”

The King’s expression hardened once more, as if rejecting the vulnerability her words exposed. “No king should be subjected to such weakness, to love a woman this much... to love a woman like that.”

“Like what?” Lady Belet asked, genuinely curious.

“Like fucking insane!” The King spat the words out, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “She ran away with the heir to the throne and disappeared because she was hurt.”

Lady Belet chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Well, my king… Isabella didn’t leave just because she was hurt. She left because she too was heavily burdened by loving too much a man like you.”

Weeks after Dara’s deceit was uncovered, a messenger arrived at the palace bearing urgent news for the King. The message was delivered to one of the lords in the King’s council, prompting an extraordinary meeting.

When the King entered the chamber, he scanned the faces of the assembled lords, his patience already wearing thin. “What is so urgent?” he demanded.

There was a moment of hesitation, the tension palpable, before one of the lords finally spoke. “Your concubine, Sire… she has been located.”

The King’s heart skipped a beat. “Where? Where is she?” he asked, his voice urgent.

“She’s in Rosehall,” the lord replied.

The King exhaled, a mix of relief and irritation in his breath. “Good,” he said, “Erkmen will bring her back.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, and the King’s gaze narrowed. Sensing something was wrong, he pressed, “What is it?”

The lord who had spoken earlier looked uneasy but forced himself to continue. “Erkmen is dead, Your Majesty. The Allendorian army has retaken the palace and neutralized our troops in the north.”

The King’s eyes widened, disbelief and anger surging within him. “What?” he barked. “There was a fucking dragon there!”

Another lord spoke up, his tone cautious. “The dragon was left without a rider. The dragonrider was killed in an ambush.”

The King’s fists clenched, his fury rising. “How the fuck did they do it? I burned three-quarters of their army!”

“They were likely hiding in strategic parts of their domain,” another lord suggested. “And Erkmen… well, he was doing a terrible job of maintaining control over the territory.”

The King paced, his mind racing with the implications of what he was hearing. “Who led the attack?”

One of the lords cleared his throat before answering, “Their queen, Sire.”

The King stopped in his tracks, turning to face the speaker. “Their queen?” he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.

The lord nodded. “They crowned Isabella their queen. She ordered the attack and, if the reports are true, she killed Erkmen herself.”

The room was silent as the King processed the information, his thoughts a whirlwind of rage and confusion. Another lord then spoke, delivering the final blow. “Isabella is now leading their army from Rosehall, with the support of one of the Allendorian lords… Who is now her King Consort.”