THE KING'S SLAVE BRIDE

THE QUEEN DOWAGER

*NA'IMAH*

Soon, we reach the holding castle that stands between the forest and the palace, and someone drags me into a room. “Here, wash off that grime and put this on,” he instructs, throwing some flower-embroidered dress on the floor.

I glared at the dress. “Why?”

He stares at me for a minute. “You don’t get to ask questions,” he scoffs.

“I am not putting on shxt if you don’t tell me why,” I retort.

He sneered, and I shrugged, refusing to move. “You can’t go into the palace looking like this,” he waved his hand in a motion, gesturing at what I was wearing.

“Looking like what? A sl*ve? Isn’t that what I am?”

“See, I don’t care what you are. The Queen Dowager wants to see you, and she needs you to look presentable. So pick up the damn dress, go into that stall, and clean off the grime on you. You stink.”

I tried not to balk in shock at the news that the Queen Dowager was the person requesting my presence. The Queen Dowager wants to see me. What the fxck for? It can’t be about the things I’ve been stealing from the palace. It just can’t.

“I am not dressing up for her. If the Queen Dowager wants to see me, then she has to see me the way I am. A slave, this was her son’s doing. She doesn’t have to shy away from confronting the evil she and her son are perpetuating. You either take me to her like this or lock me the fxck up. Because I’m not cleaning shxt, nor am I wearing that dress.”

“You…” He began to say but stopped himself. “Actually, I don’t freaking care, it’s your death sentence,” he shrugged as he called for the guards. “Guards. Take her to the Queen Dowager; she wants to be treated like a sl*ve. Treat her like one.”

The rest of the walk to the palace is unceremonious, as my hands and feet are thrown into chains, and I’m practically dragged through the palace gates. The servants roaming the palace gawked at me as the guards dragged me through the large compound, through hallways, various quarters, another large gate and then up some stairs.

“Your Highness, we have the sl*ve.” The female guard announces as we stop outside two double doors made from oak.

There’s a grunt and then a male voice speaks. “Let her in.” The double doors open at the command, and I am shoved into what I assume is the Queen Dowager’s chamber. I try not to gawk at the opulence of wealth that filled the room because, what the hell? You have her living like this while we are out there dying and...

“Why is she dirty?” The Queen Dowager's voice breaks me out of my thoughts and I turn my gaze to her. “Guards,” she snarls, rattling the thin items on the wall of the room.

“Your Highness,” the guards scrambled inside, immediately falling to their knees and bowing their heads.

“I prepared a dress for her and I asked her to be cleaned. Why is she brought before me like this?” She snarled at them.

Watching them cower before her was a delight after the way they treated me minutes ago, but I hate the way she is talking about me as I am not here.

"Hello, I’m right here," I waved my hands in a dramatic gesture and the chains rattle to get her attention.

Her face splits between a frown and an amused look when she turns to me. “Why are you here, like this?” She gestures towards the white dress I am wearing that now looks like it’s had its fair share of mud and water splattered all over it. “I had the servants pick out a dress for you.”

“I don’t know, maybe because I am not a clown meant to dress for your spectacle.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you look like this.”

“Like what? A sl*ve? Isn’t that what I am? Or are we forgetting what your son did?”

She eyed me for a minute before shaking her head, “You know, I don’t think someone in your position should be this mouthy, given that I am the only one, aside from the King, who knows the whereabouts of your parents. You might want to mind your manners,” she threatened. She may have said each word with a smile, but I know what a threat sounds like.

“Why am I here and what do you want from me that you and your son haven’t already taken?” I tried to hold back my sneer, but it was impossible to put a lid on the hatred boiling inside me for this woman and her wretched kingdom.

She knew what mentioning my parents would do to me, and I can’t help but imagine that she had something up her sleeve. Which was the reason she brought them up—to have me cornered.

“Leave,” she instructs the guards, and they scurry out of the room while murmuring apologies.

“Back to you. I don’t want much from you. I’ll let you know that I was never in support of my son’s actions.”

I scoff at her words. “Yeah, are you also going to tell me you weren’t in support of the late king’s actions? You were his queen then, and he was just as bad as your son. He did the same thing to the hybrid clans before me.”

“My husband wasn’t the nicest king, but he wasn’t this bad. He had his flaws; he tried to do better in his last days, but every good my husband tried to do, Kaedyr has overturned since he began king.”

I shrugged at her statement. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

"I don’t think you understand me, Na’imah."

My eyes widened at the sound of my name from her lips. How does she know my name? What the hell?

“Kaedyr is only going to get worse. He is not stopping anytime soon, and those slaves you think you can keep safe in that camp. They will be far from safe once Kaedyr has his focus back on them.”

A growl rumbles out of me at her words. “Have you done enough by enslaving my people?” I snarl as my hybrid fought for a way out, but the gold collar around my neck prevents any attempt at shifting.

“I am not your enemy, Na’imah. I don’t want to be; I want to help you and I can help you find your parents and reunite you with them. I can help keep your people safe from Kaedyr's wrath.”

“And what’s the catch?” I asked, because I knew she wasn't going to hand me any of these on a platter of gold.

“Marry the King.”

“What?!” My eyes widened in shock. “You can’t be serious,” I scoffed.

“I am not known for my jokes, Na’imah.”

I stared at her like she had somehow grown horns overnight. “You want me to marry the king who invaded my home, enslaved me and my people and has my parents on death row.”

The Queen Dowager nods. “Yes, Na'imah. I want you to marry him, give him an heir and make him fall in love with you. Do this, and I’ll grant your parents freedom and your people a better life.”

“What the fxck!” I snarled, unable to comprehend her demand. Marry King Kaedyr? How is that even going to happen?