Chapter XXIX: Enemy
Isabella spent her day doing mostly nothing in the king's bedroom. She was served delicous meals throughout the day as well as plenty fortified wine, provided by Lady Belet, who also made sure she received a relaxing bath and a good massage, to get her body ready for another night with the king, since her body was naturally sore. When the sun finally set, she meticulously adorned herself under Lady Belet's watchful eye, ensuring every detail was perfect to receive the king upon his return. Her dress, meticulously chosen, was of a lovely light blue fabric draped elegantly over her figure, accentuating her curves. Her maids’ attentive hands ensured that Isabella's hair cascaded in soft waves, framing her face in a halo of beauty.
When the king finally entered the room, Isabella rose gracefully from her chair, her smile radiant with anticipation. However, the warmth she expected was replaced by a chilling silence as the king's icy gaze bore into her, his posture rigid with anger.
Isabella's heart plummeted at the king's icy demeanor, her mind racing with confusion and anxiety. Summoning her courage, she approached him cautiously. "Your Majesty, what's wrong?" she ventured, her voice trembling slightly.
The king's expression remained stoic as he turned to Lady Belet. "Escort Isabella back to the harem, I want her out of here" he commanded tersely, his tone brooking no argument.
Confusion etched across Isabella's features as she looked back at the king. "But why, Your Majesty? What did I do?" she implored, her voice tinged with desperation.
"This was a mistake," the king replied, his words cutting through the air like a blade.
Isabella's heart sank at the king's words, her mind struggling to comprehend his sudden change in demeanor. "Mistake? What was a mistake?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide with confusion and fear.
The king's expression remained cold and distant as he met her gaze. "You, Isabella! You were the mistake," he repeated, his tone harsh and unforgiving. Isabella recoiled, feeling a surge of hurt and disbelief wash over her.
Trembling, she gathered her courage and asked, "What happened? What changed between us?" Her voice quivered with a mix of vulnerability and desperation, her heart racing with apprehension at his response.
"Your loyalists," he spat, his voice laced with venom, "bearing Allendorian flags, screaming ‘Long live the Queen’ as they raided the Royal Port and burned my ships!"
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision and making it hard to see the disappointment etched on the king's stern face. She struggled to comprehend the weight of his accusations, feeling as though the ground had suddenly shifted beneath her feet.
"I-I didn't know," she managed to choke out, her voice trembling with anguish, each word heavy with the burden of her confusion and fear.
The king's expression remained stoic, his eyes cold and distant, as if he were looking through her rather than at her. The king's expression hardened, his gaze piercing through her like a blade. "I was wrong to let you live," he declared icily. "Your head was supposed to roll alongside your father’s, and instead you’re here, parading around my palace in silk and gold!” The king’s tone was of pure pain and resentment. “Yesterday, I allowed my desire for you blind me. Today, I was reminded of who you really are,” he stated, making Isabella shiver in fear and sadness. “You’re not worthy of my bed, you’re not worthy of my seed. You’re not worthy of carrying my heir. I should have breeded you in your prison cell, shared you with my soldiers and left you impregnated with a nameless bastard!”
Tears welled in Isabella's eyes, her hands trembling at her sides as she fought to find the words to defend herself. "Please, Your Majesty," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I am not your enemy."
The king's expression remained unyielding, his gaze unwavering as he delivered the damning verdict. "But you carry my enemy’s blood," he stated, his voice cold and remorseless.
As Isabella emerged from the king's chamber, her sobs echoed through the corridor, her heart wrenching with anguish. Lady Belet, discerning her distraught state, swiftly veered them off the path to the harem, guiding Isabella to a secluded alcove.
"Here, take this," Lady Belet offered a delicate lace handkerchief, her voice filled with concern. "You cannot return to the harem like this. The other concubines may prey on your sorrow."
Isabella accepted the handkerchief with a trembling hand, her gratitude evident in her watery gaze. "Thank you, Lady Belet," she murmured, her voice choking with emotions. "I... I don't know what to do."
"Isabella," Lady Belet sighed, her tone gentle yet firm. "That's the reality of the harem. One day, you may bask in the king's favor, but the next, it could vanish like it never happened. You cannot afford to be swayed by the whims of his heart if you wish to survive." She placed a reassuring hand on Isabella's trembling shoulder, offering solace in the face of uncertainty.
"How can he be so cruel…" Isabella whimpered, her voice quivering with disbelief, tears welling up once more.
"Isabella, my dear," Lady Belet's voice was gentle but resolute. "You must focus on what truly matters now. You're no longer a princess awaiting rescue or to be handed in a secure marriage to a gentle prince. Things are different here.” She met Isabella's tear-filled eyes with a mixture of empathy and pragmatism, urging her to embrace the reality of her circumstances.
"Lady Belet, what am I supposed to do now?" Isabella implored, her voice tinged with desperation as she sought guidance in the midst of her turmoil.
"Focus on yourself, Isabella," Lady Belet replied, her tone solemn. "Right now, there’s a chance you’re the one who will come to bear the heir of the Dragon, the heir to the Fire Throne. And that, my dear, is everything."
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