CRUEL KING

Prologue Montéry Palace, Targat A trembling hand rested on the shawl covering her neck and shoulders, Anisha torn between terror and hatred. In that immense hall with its impressive pillars and imposing throne, she waited. It was in this high place that all important kingdom decisions were made, and it was also where her wretched fate would be decided. She seemed so small, so insignificant, draped in her long white chiton, a typical garment from her island. The two guards who had escorted her there had stepped away, leaving her to face her destiny alone. Her large amber eyes widened with dread as the thunderous sound of the two grand doors behind her echoed. "The Court!" solemnly announced the herald, who stood not far from her, holding a large flag with the Orburg dynasty's coat of arms. Assured, heavy footsteps resonated on the white marble tiled floor. Steps that brought Anisha closer to the man she hated most in the world. The one she would have killed with her own hands if given the opportunity. Her blood boiling in her veins made her heart pound wildly. The moment of truth had arrived, and her inability to end her life sooner weighed on her as never before at that instant. Anisha would have wanted to, though. She would have preferred a thousand deaths to having to kneel before the tyrant who would soon face her. Before this heartless assassin with a dark soul. Discreetly, she scanned her surroundings to see if she could disarm a guard of his sword. With it, she could have pierced that monster's heart. Just as he hadn't hesitated to do for Clarence. To her great regret, no one was close enough, and all the men present kept a firm hand on the hilt of their weapons. Her breath immediately shortened. The footsteps had stopped right behind her. Without even turning, Anisha could feel a powerful presence dominating her from above. Today, fate would judge her future. And she knew it, the grace of death was excluded for her. The fate of a defeated prince's widow belonged to the one who had slain him. Here, it was Helias, the cruelest and most bloodthirsty king Targat had ever known. Far from being a sovereign who had grown up in comfort and silks, Helias D'Orburg was born with a sword in his hand. Since his tender childhood, he was said to be skilled in combat techniques and an expert in war strategies. A veteran, surrounded by a cruel army, ready to follow him to death and even to the underworld if he asked them. Anisha kept her head down, her long black hair partially falling over her face to conceal it. The footsteps resumed and continued towards the dais where a huge golden armchair, upholstered with rich, flowered fabric, stood. "Prostrate yourself before your king!" ordered a man, likely a guard accompanying the sovereign, who still stood behind the young woman. Anisha's legs knocked together with fear, but her heart forbade her to yield. In protest, she kept her eyes fixed on the large windows that ran the length of a wall and overlooked a majestic courtyard. "Are you deaf?!" the man snapped, seizing her shoulder to force her to her knees. Anisha's tears threatened to fall, but she bit her lip hard. The iron grip that seized her flesh gave her a taste of what awaited her from now on. Mortified, she felt Helias's gaze roam over her, like feeling the breeze or the warm sunbeams on one's skin. Only here, the sensation was biting like ice and its intensity burning like fire. "Don't bother, Callen," a calm, gravely deep voice rose, vibrating something within Anisha while seeming strangely familiar. "This renegade is just like her traitor husband: disloyalty runs in their blood." A rustle and metal clinked; Helias had risen from his seat and was coming back towards her. Her whole body began to tremble at that instant. Her hands became clammy and her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. If she hadn't been held to the ground, she would have instinctively fled. And just when she expected to be mistreated, the sovereign knelt to her level and lifted her chin with his large, rough hand. He examined her for a moment, while Anisha tried to maintain some semblance of composure. Helias had the beauty of devils, and his immensely powerful body made her shiver with fear. She understood better how her husband could have been defeated. How could it have been otherwise? This man was built for combat, and his impressive hands could crush a neck with ease. "So this is what my cousin's wife looks like?" D'Orburg continued in the same calm, captivating voice. "I've been told you've tried to take your own life twice since you've been here. That's a sign of weakness and cowardice. Do you know that? Are you like that coward Clarence?" "Clarence is no coward," the young woman hissed with rage while he still held her face. This flash of defiance made the sovereign smile, so futile it was. "If you say so. In the meantime, you belong to me, and I decide this day to make you my servant." Anisha's eyes widened in horror. "I'm sure my cousin will appreciate your new position from where he is. And perhaps the turmoil he'll experience seeing you return to your destitute state will compel him to be reborn braver and more loyal." "You might as well kill me on the spot, for I will never serve you," Anisha retorted, pulling her chin away. Helias's stormy gray eyes gleamed at these words. "Oh yes, you will serve me. And in the most devoted of ways. If you don't, all the girls on your island will be taken as war tribute and distributed like common slaves to my men." Anisha swallowed hard before this cruel figure. Helias was indeed living up to the reputation Clarence had painted for him..