Breaking The Fate

Chapter five

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August strides back into the room, his presence filling the space with that suffocating air of authority he always carries. "My parents will be here in a few minutes," he announces curtly, his tone more of an order than a statement. His eyes sweep over me, clearly checking if I bothered to dress up for the occasion.

I'm standing in front of the mirror in a yellow dress—one that's eerily reminiscent of Belle's iconic gown from Beauty and the Beast. I didn't choose it to make a statement. It just happened to be the first dress I saw that wasn't completely unbearable to wear.

He studies me for a moment, his gaze dragging from my head to my toes. Finally, he gives a curt nod. "Okay."

"Whatever," I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes so subtly I hope he doesn't notice. Not that it would matter. Even if I were dressed like a supermodel on a runway, I know better than to expect a compliment from him. Nothing good ever escapes his mouth when it comes to me—not kindness, not praise, not even basic decency.

His eyes linger on me a second too long, and I catch a flicker of something in them—a mix of amusement, mischief, and a darker, cruel edge that sends a shiver down my spine. I force myself to look away, my throat tightening as I swallow hard. Whatever game he's playing, I'm not interested in being a part of it.

He takes a step closer, and I can feel the heat of his gaze on me. His lips part, as if he's about to say something, but then his phone buzzes loudly, slicing through the tension. He hesitates for a split second before pulling it out of his pocket, his eyes never leaving mine as he answers.

"We'll be there," he says simply, his tone sharp and efficient, the way it always is when he's talking to someone he deems important.

The moment he hangs up, he doesn't waste a second. His arm snakes around my waist without warning, pulling me closer. My entire body tenses, and I can't help the involuntary cringe that ripples through me.

"Let's go," he says, his voice low and commanding, completely ignoring my discomfort. "People are waiting for us."

I bite my tongue to keep from snapping back. There's no point arguing. Not now. Instead, I let him lead me toward the door, my stomach churning with a mix of resentment and dread. Whatever awaits on the other side, I know it won't be good. It never is.

*

We're seated at a long, sprawling table outside, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. The air is crisp, carrying the mingling scents of blooming flowers and the faint aroma of roasted meats from the distant kitchen. August has invited people from all over Palemland—leaders, advisors, merchants, and strategists. It's a gathering meant to discuss alliances with neighboring countries, but I find it hard to care about the heated debate over trade routes or the veiled threats hidden in polite tones.

I'm here physically, but my mind is elsewhere. The conversations fade into a dull hum, a background noise that does nothing to anchor me to the present. My gaze flits over the horizon, watching the sky blush with hues of pink and gold as the sun dips lower.

Then, a hand on my shoulder pulls me back to reality.

"Ma'am, your medication is ready. You have to take it now," Maria whispers, leaning close to my ear. Her voice is soft, careful, but it feels like a spotlight has been turned on me.

She places a pill and a glass of water discreetly in front of me. I glance around the table quickly, hoping no one is paying attention. "Maria," I hiss under my breath, "I told you not to bring it when there are people around."

"I know, Your Majesty," she says with a slight bow, her tone apologetic but firm. "But this pill must be taken on time, or it could cause complications with your menstruation."

I sigh heavily, the tension building in my chest as I grab the pill and toss it into my mouth. I take a quick sip of water, then another, hoping to wash away not just the pill but the prickling embarrassment crawling up my neck.

The woman seated next to me, someone I don't recognize, watches me with thinly veiled curiosity. Her eyes linger for a moment too long, making me shift uncomfortably in my chair. Maria retreats, leaving me to deal with the aftermath of this unwanted attention.

When the woman finally leans closer, her voice is low but pointed. "Not ready?" she asks, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

I blink at her, taken aback by her boldness. I don't recall inviting her to speak to me, let alone pry into matters that are none of her concern. I'm not arrogant, but there are boundaries, and this woman has just stomped over them.

Before I can retort, August catches the exchange. His sharp eyes flick between us, his curiosity piqued. "Not ready for what?" he asks, his voice calm but laced with authority.

The woman straightens up, clearly emboldened by his attention. "A baby, Your Majesty," she says, her tone almost conspiratorial.

August's brows knit together in confusion. "What does the pill have to do with a baby?"

Her cheeks flush as she realizes her blunder. "Oh, I thought it was a birth control pill," she stammers, looking suddenly sheepish. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"You also shouldn't have spoken out of turn," I say sharply, my voice cool and controlled but laced with a simmering anger. The words land with precision, and the woman's eyes widen slightly before she lowers her gaze.

I glance at August, who looks at me with a flicker of amusement but says nothing. I've had enough of people treating me like I'm an open book, free to be read and judged. It's exhausting, and today, I'm done playing along.

As the woman shifts awkwardly in her seat, I lean back in my chair and return my focus to the sky, wishing I could disappear into the sunset, far away from the weight of their stares and expectations.

*

Finally, the day is over, and I'm in my room, pulling on a loose shirt and preparing for bed. My body aches with exhaustion, my mind desperate for a moment of peace. Just as I'm settling in, the door swings open without warning. August strides in, unannounced, like he owns the air in my lungs.

He doesn't even bother with a greeting. His eyes are sharp, filled with something unreadable. "I can't help but think that the pill you've been taking is exactly what that woman thought it was," he says, voice steady but laced with accusation.

I freeze for a moment, my back to him, then turn slowly. My heart pounds in my chest, but I try to keep my face calm.

"What?" I scoff, shaking my head as if the notion itself is absurd. "No, it's not. I told you—the doctor prescribed me vitamin D. You can ask her yourself."

But August doesn't look convinced. His piercing gaze locks onto mine, and his jaw tightens. "If I find out that what you're taking is a birth control pill," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "I will destroy your life. Do you understand me?"

A chill runs through me, but I clench my fists, refusing to let him see my fear. I want to fight back, to stand my ground, but this is August. The man who bends the wills of everyone around him, from his family to the most powerful people in the kingdom. No one dares to defy him.

Still, I try. "It's not like we're doing anything, August," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "Why would I even consider taking the pill when nothing is happening between us?"

His expression shifts suddenly, anger giving way to something far more unsettling—amusement. He takes a step closer, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a dark smirk. "Maybe because you want to," he says, his tone almost teasing. His eyes narrow slightly. "Do you want to, Leah?"

The question hits me like a slap, and I gasp, my cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and humiliation. "Of course not!" I snap, taking a step back.

"Why not?" he counters, closing the distance between us effortlessly. His hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist in a vice-like grip. "I'm your husband, Leah. I can do whatever I want with you. I can treat you however I please. This body isn't yours anymore—it's mine."

His words feel like daggers, each one stabbing deeper into my sense of self. I try to yank my wrist free, but his grip is unyielding, his strength far outweighing mine.

"Let go of me, August," I say, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay composed.

"Why should I?" he murmurs, leaning in closer. His free hand brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, the intimacy of the gesture making my stomach churn. "You're my wife, whether you like it or not."

His lips hover near my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper that sends a shiver down my spine. "And I'll take you, Leah. Even if you scream."

Before I can respond, the door swings open again, this time with more force. His mother steps inside, her presence commanding attention as always. For the first time in my life, I feel a surge of relief at her intrusion.

"Sorry to interrupt such a moment," she says dryly, her eyes flicking between us, taking in the tension in the room. "But your father needs to see you, August. It's urgent."

August's grip on my wrist loosens as he turns to face her, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "Why? What happened?"

"You need to leave for Qatar immediately," she replies. "There's a conference regarding the war in Syria. Your father wants you there."

She pauses, her sharp gaze darting back to me before returning to him. "Though, I still don't understand why you two don't share the same room. It's highly inappropriate for a married couple."

August smirks, his mood shifting yet again. "You're right," he says casually, pulling his phone from his pocket. "I think it's time we fixed that. Starting tonight, Leah will move into my room. This will be our first child's room."

The words hit me like a physical blow, and I feel the air leave my lungs. My heart sinks, heavy and cold, as I stare at him. He doesn't even look at me, already scrolling through his phone, making plans for a future I have no say in.

I feel trapped, suffocated by the weight of his words and the inevitability of what's to come. And in that moment, I realize just how little control I truly have over my life anymore.