Claimed By The Tyrant King

Something about it felt wrong, as if trouble had been waiting beneath the surface.

She was led into the throne hall, and the moment she stepped inside, the weight of the room pressed down on her. The atmosphere was thick and suffocating, as familiar faces turned toward her. Thalia and Verity were there, their expressions shifting into shock the moment they took in her appearance, and Rosalind became suddenly aware of how she must look. Her gown still damp in places, dirt clinging to the fabric, small tears along the edges, and her hair far from properly arranged. She hadn’t been given the chance to fix herself before being brought back.

Lady Evelina stood nearby with disapproval written across her face, while Claire remained unbothered. Sabine, however, barely masked the irritation in her eyes, and even through her composed expression, it was obvious she was displeased. There was something darker beneath it too, as she would have preferred Rosalind not return at all.

At the front of the hall, Alaric stood with his back turned, adjusting his armor. Rosalind’s throat went dry at the sight, her heartbeat quickening as his presence filled the room.

When he finally turned, his gaze fell directly on her, slow and deliberate as it moved over her appearance. "The traitor has been brought back," he said calmly.

The word struck her immediately. Traitor?

Rosalind stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"You thought you wouldn’t be caught," Alaric continued, a faint smirk forming on his lips as he watched her reaction, clearly entertained by her confusion. He believed she had tried to escape and failed.

"Your Majesty..." Rosalind began, her voice tight as she struggled to steady herself. The accusation was too serious to ignore, and if she didn’t speak quickly, things could turn worse.

He cut her off without hesitation. "I’ll give you one chance, Rosalind. Explain truthfully, and I won’t hurt you."

She drew in a breath, holding onto the small mercy in his words before speaking. "We were returning when we were ambushed by bandits on the road. Rowan and the guards tried to fight them off, but there were too many. We had no choice but to escape into the forest, and when the rain came, we took shelter in a cave until this morning."

Silence followed her explanation. Alaric’s gaze shifted to the injured guard who had been with them. "Is this true?" he asked, his tone steady but cold.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the man answered, and Rosalind felt a wave of relief pass through her.

Still, Alaric did not look convinced. His attention moved to the guards he had sent to find them. "Where did you find them?"

"In a cave, Your Majesty," the leading guard replied. "The royal carriage had indeed been attacked by bandits, but they have since been captured."

At his signal, the masked men were dragged forward and forced to their knees. They trembled as they bowed before the king, their earlier confidence completely gone. "You know what to do with them," Alaric said without a second glance.

The guards moved immediately, seizing the bandits and dragging them away as their cries echoed through the hall before gradually fading into silence.

Rosalind released a breath, relief settling into her chest. If there had been no witnesses, if no one had confirmed her story, things could have taken a darker turn.

Alaric began walking toward her, and her body went still as he closed the distance between them. When he stopped in front of her, his expression shifted, his lips curling into a faint smile as he reached out and placed a hand lightly on her head.

"I knew you would learn," he said.

The words sounded gentle, but Rosalind knew better. There had been no trust in his mind earlier, only suspicion and the readiness to punish. His gaze flickered briefly toward Rowan before returning to her.

"I will be going to war," he continued calmly.

Rosalind swallowed, her eyes drifting briefly to his armor before returning to his face. So that was the reason for the soldiers outside.. it had nothing to do with her. Another relief passed through her at the realization.

"You should go to the chapel and pray for my safe return," he added, his smile still in place.

She forced one in return, though her thoughts betrayed her. Could she ever stand there and pray for his return?

And yet, he had shown her a form of kindness, allowing her to visit her home, choosing not to punish her now when he easily could have.

"Also," he continued, as if recalling something, "you seem to have learned your lesson, so I’ve decided to trust you. While I’m away, you have the freedom to go wherever you wish around the castle, as long as you are accompanied."

Rosalind blinked, caught off guard by his words.

Freedom?

Around the hall, murmurs stirred as the others reacted to the announcement, disbelief clear on their faces. Sabine’s expression darkened instantly, her composure slipping just enough to reveal her frustration, while the rest struggled to hide their surprise at the favour Rosalind had just been given.

Alaric lifted his hand to cup her cheeks, and Rosalind swallowed as his touch settled against her skin. "When I return, we can safely discuss our marriage," he said with a pleased smile before leaning down to kiss her.

Her hands tightened at her sides as his lips met hers, familiar in their movement, controlled and practiced in a way she had grown used to, yet this time something felt off. The kiss lingered just as it always did, but instead of comfort, resistance stirred within her, because no matter how she tried to focus, her mind betrayed her, pulling her back to the night before, to the heat and intensity of Rowan’s mouth against hers, to the way that moment had unsettled something deep inside her in a way this never had.

She drew in a slow breath as Alaric finally pulled away, her composure barely held in place as he looked at her with satisfaction. "Make sure to be safe," he added, patting her head once more in that same familiar manner.

She smiled because she had to, watching as he turned and began to leave, her gaze following him until it shifted on its own.

Rowan stood at a distance, his posture straight, his face composed, yet his eyes were fixed on her in a way that made her chest tighten. She pressed her lips together and averted her gaze, her heart pounding as if she had just been caught doing something unforgivable. Rosalind’s breath caught at that.

Then the realization struck fully, forcing her attention back to Alaric’s retreating figure.

How could she have forgotten the most important factor standing between them?

This was not something that could be hidden forever, not in a place like this and not from a man like him.

If Alaric ever found out, he would not hesitate to kill them both.