Claimed By The Tyrant King

The music shifted and the soft murmurs in the hall gradually faded until every single gaze was locked on her.

She began with a slow sway of her waist, letting her hips move gently with the beat as if she were pulling every eye toward her without effort. One hand rose gracefully into the air while the other slipped into her hair, her fingers moving slowly through the strands in a teasing motion that made the entire movement feel almost spell-like. Then her hand drifted down along the curve of her waist, lingering there as she lifted her gaze beneath lowered lashes in a seductive manner before her body flowed into a smooth twirl that made her movements appear effortless. She followed it with a light leap that drew a quiet reaction from several people in the hall.

"Yes!" Verity and Thalia thought at the same time as they watched from the crowd, relieved that Rosalind was performing far better than they had expected.

At the same time, Alaric’s grip on his throne tightened slightly as his gaze darkened further.

Rosalind was proving to be more daring than he had anticipated. She was really asking for it...

Meanwhile, Rosalind remained focused on nothing but the dance itself, refusing to let her attention drift to the people watching her.

The moment she landed, her waist rolled again, deeper this time, her hips moving in perfect rhythm with the music as her fingers brushed lightly along her neck before returning to her hair. Every movement remained slow and hypnotic, from the sway of her waist to the soft arch of her body, and when she turned again with that lingering look beneath her lashes, the entire hall had already fallen silent, completely spellbound by her.

Sabine clenched her jaw tightly.

She had expected Rosalind to fail, yet instead her performance was drawing admiration, and her gaze immediately snapped toward Thalia with sharp resentment before shifting to Alaric, who seemed even more captivated than before.

PATIENCE! she thought grimly to herself.

The dance continued as Rosalind moved deeper into it, each turn and sway pulling her further into the rhythm until, unexpectedly, a smile touched her lips.

For once, she let herself forget everything else... the pressure... the fear... the people watching... and simply surrendered to the music.

Alaric had never been this impressed in his entire life, and the expression on Rosalind’s face was one he had never seen.

Without realizing it, he rose from his seat, and while most of the nobles were still watching in silence, Sabine noticed immediately.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw him stand, and then he began to clap, leaving her momentarily frozen in shock, anger, and disbelief.

Following the king’s lead, the rest of the hall joined in, applause filling the room as Rosalind continued her final movements.

To everyone, this was the best performance of the night, and the admiration was genuine as they continued to watch her.

Sabine shifted uncomfortably, This was not over yet.

As the music slowly came to an end and the applause grew louder, Rosalind’s chest rose and fell heavily as she looked across the hall and saw faces no longer mocking her but admiring her.

Her gaze found Alaric again, and even from a distance, the moment their eyes met, she knew she had succeeded tonight, and he was pleased.

For a moment, she felt like laughing and crying at the same time, relief flooding her as the tension finally loosened from her body. But then, slowly, that relief began to fade as she felt an unusual heat spreading near her legs.

And suddenly, the entire crowd went completely still as shock swept through the hall.

"Fire!" someone screamed from the crowd.

The hall erupted into panic as people began to retreat from her in every direction, widening the space around her until she stood almost isolated while chaos spread through the room.

Rosalind’s gaze dropped to her gown and she saw the fire had caught the fabric and was already spreading through her skirt, leaving her frozen for a moment as shock hit all at once.

She was stunned and didn’t know what to do, but in the middle of her confusion, a figure pushed through the panic toward her instead of fleeing like the others, then immediately started tearing at the burning fabric with his bare hands.

Sabine’s lips curled, as she watched. she should have been more careful, she thought, though the satisfaction in her expression made it clear she was more than pleased because that had been her plan all along.

As the fire spread, Rosalind tried to move instinctively to help put it out but Rowan’s voice cut through the panic. "Don’t touch it," he said, his tone startling her, yet Rosalind still struggled as he tore at the burning fabric.

She could not understand why he was using his bare hands or why he did not seem to care about the heat, but even then no help seemed to be coming from the crowd.

Rosalind could not simply stand there and let him do everything, and as she tried again his gaze snapped to her. "I said don’t," he repeated, his voice firm.

His hands paused for a brief moment as his gaze flicked to her collarbone where a mark was visible, a subtle change crossed his expression before he quickly returned his focus to the fire.

By then, Rowan had already torn away the burning parts and wrapped a cloak around her body without a word. Then, without hesitation, he began to guide her out of the hall.

Just then, the servants arrived with buckets of water only to find the lady already being led away by her footman, and they exchanged confused glances as they stood frozen, unsure what to do.

Meanwhile, Alaric, positioned at the upper end of the hall, was unable to reach Rosalind because the crowd had gathered and blocked the way, more focused on watching than helping. His jaw tightened at the thought of what could have happened under his watch. But relief followed quickly when he saw the footman had reacted in time and was already leading her out.

While relief flooded the minds of the people, Sabine’s fists clenched at the realisation that her plan to ruin Rosalind... for good....had failed!!!