Chapter LXXXIII: Escaped
The king, having enjoyed a few more drinks with his brother, finally decided to call it a night. “I think I might as well retire to my chambers”, Prince Damian, rising from his seat with a smirk, announced. “Although ‘retire’ might not be the right word, considering the gift my brother had kindly given me,” he added with a knowing glance at Jia, his new royal consort. The room erupted in laughter, including the king’s hearty chuckle.
Before he could leave as well, one of the guards approached the king, his face filled with concern. “Your Majesty, one of the dragons has escaped.”
The king’s smile vanished instantly, replaced by a look of intense focus. “Take me there,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the noise with authority.
He followed the guard through the dimly lit corridors, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. They reached the dragon’s lair, where a scene of chaos unfolded before them. Verdath, a smaller dragon with emerald-green scales, was thrashing violently against the chains that bound it. Its eyes glowed with a fierce light, and its roars reverberated through the chamber.
The king’s men struggled to contain the dragon, their faces strained with effort as they tried to calm the beast. Torches flickered around them, casting erratic shadows that danced on the walls, adding to the turmoil.
The king stepped forward with deliberate calm, his presence commanding immediate attention. “Stand back, everyone,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Unless you want to be burned alive.”
He approached Verdath cautiously, his hand extended in a gesture of peace. The dragon’s thrashing began to slow as it recognized the king’s familiar scent and soothing tone. The king spoke in a low, rhythmic cadence, a soft murmur that gradually brought the dragon’s fierce agitation under control.
The men, following the king’s lead, adjusted their approach. The chains were carefully tightened, but not so much as to provoke further agitation. As Verdath’s breathing slowed and its roars diminished to low growls, the king continued his soothing words, gently stroking the dragon’s scaled hide.
After a tense few minutes, the dragon’s struggles ceased, and it allowed itself to be restrained. The king stepped back, his face a mask of relief and exhaustion. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he glanced around at his men, who were now carefully securing Verdath with the chains.
The king, weary from the evening's events and the wine that still tinged his senses, stumbled back to his chambers, eager to find solace with Isabella. He had been preoccupied with the incident involving Verdath and his mind buzzed with the concern of what might have caused the dragon's outburst. Nevertheless, he pushed these worries aside, his thoughts fixated on returning to Isabella’s side.
As he entered his room, his anticipation quickly turned to confusion and concern. The room was empty. A wave of unease washed over him as he crossed to the door that connected their chambers. Pushing it open, he was relieved to see Isabella tucked under the covers of her own bed, but something seemed amiss. He could hear the faint cries of their son, Ikkar, coming from his crib.
The king approached the crib and picked up the baby, cradling him gently and whispering soothing words in an attempt to calm him down. The cries softened slightly under his calming touch, but the king's attention was drawn back to Isabella’s bed.
It struck him as odd that she didn’t stir, especially given that she was usually quick to respond to Ikkar's cries. His concern deepened as he pulled back the covers to find not Isabella, but Jia lying in the bed, purple bruises encircling her neck, starkly contrasting against her pale skin.
Isabella awoke with a start, her body jolting and her head hanging upside down. The cold biting at her skin made her shiver as she realized she was tied to a horse, her body spread out on the animal’s back. The night was dark and frigid, and she was scantily dressed, making the cold feel even more penetrating.
She raised her head as best as she could, squinting through the darkness to see Prince Damian riding the horse that bore her. Her heart pounded with fear as she noticed that several other horses and men accompanied them, moving through the bleak night.
Panic surged through her, and she began to struggle against the ropes binding her. Damian, seemingly unfazed, called out over his shoulder in a detached tone, “Calm down. You’re acting like a frightened animal.”
Desperation colored her voice as she demanded, “Where are you taking me?”
Damian’s response was chillingly casual. “I’m taking you to my palace. Don’t worry, I’ll return you to my brother and your usurper baby soon enough.”
The implication of his words sent a shiver down her spine. Isabella’s struggles grew more frantic as she tried to free herself. In a burst of defiant anger, she kicked the horse beneath her, causing it to rear up in agitation. The sudden movement threw her off balance, and she tumbled down to the ground with a jarring thud.
The impact left her momentarily stunned, but her resolve hardened. She needed to find a way to escape. As Isabella struggled to her feet, she made a desperate attempt to run away from her captors. But before she could get far, Damian’s hand closed around her hair, yanking her back roughly. His men halted their horses, observing with detached curiosity.
Damian dragged her toward his horse, his voice tinged with irritation. “You’re making this far more difficult than it needs to be. Think of it as nothing but a little adventure, Isabella.”
In a fierce burst of defiance, Isabella bit down hard on Damian’s hand. He hissed in pain, cursing her under his breath. Without warning, he drove his fist into her side, sending her sprawling onto the cold, damp ground.
Damian's anger flared. He roughly spread her legs, his face twisted with cruel amusement. “You know what? Change of plans,” he said, positioning himself between her thighs. “I think I’ll just fuck you leave you here in the forest.”
Isabella’s cries of anguish pierced the night air as she continued to struggle against him, her movements becoming more frantic and desperate. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to break free, but Damian’s grip remained unyielding. He ripped her silk undergarments, leaving her breasts completely exposed, but she tried to cover herself with her tied hands—unsuccessfully, since Damian pinned her hands above her head as he opened his pants.
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