The dining room felt colder than before — not from the air, but from the tension that lingered over the table like a storm cloud. Silverware clinked softly against plates, and the occasional cough or shuffle of a servant's footsteps filled the silence.
I kept my head down, focusing on the food in front of me. The roast chicken smelled delicious, but my appetite was long gone. I barely managed to swallow a few bites before the King's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"This marriage," he began, setting his fork down with a deliberate clink, "isn't about love or emotions."
I froze, my fingers tightening around my knife.
"This is about knowing your place," he continued, his cold gaze flicking to me. "About understanding your role in this kingdom and doing whatever it takes to protect our empire."
I knew it. I knew they couldn't be that nice. My heart sank. The Queen's smile, her warm tone — it had all felt too good to be true.
"Roger" the Queen — Mrs. Kerlin — said sharply, her voice firm yet calm. "Stop."
"She needs to understand," the King snapped, eyes narrowing. "She's not here to play the part of some pampered princess. She's here to serve a purpose."
I clenched my teeth, my nails digging into my palm under the table. I knew better than to speak up, but the anger burning inside me was dangerously close to boiling over.
"If she's not comfortable calling me Mother," Mrs. Kerlin said pointedly, her gaze now on me, "then she's welcome to call me Mrs. Kerlin. That's perfectly fine."
Her tone softened a little as she turned fully toward me. "And marriage isn't just about politics," she added. "Yes, I know that's what brought you and Darius together, but it doesn't have to feel like a burden all the time. Things can be... lighter. Easier."
Lighter? Easier? What world was she living in? Nothing about this marriage had been easy so far — not with Darius constantly barking orders and reminding me how little control I had in this place.
"She's better off understanding what's expected of her," the King muttered.
"And maybe she's better off not being treated like a soldier," Mrs. Kerlin shot back.
I risked a glance at Darius. He'd been quiet this whole time, cutting his food with a steady hand like none of this concerned him. But now, his fork paused halfway to his mouth.
"Enough," Darius said, his voice cold and sharp. "Can we just eat?"
His mother shot him a frustrated look, but she let out a sigh and sat back in her chair. The King simply grunted in approval.
And just like that, the warmth I'd felt from Mrs. Kerlin faded, swallowed whole by the tension that thickened the air.
No one spoke after that. The clink of silverware returned, but now it seemed louder — harsh, grating. I barely touched my food, still too angry, too frustrated to swallow much more.
I didn't need to hear any more of the King's words to understand what this family thought of me. To them, I wasn't a person — I was a piece on a chessboard, something to move around to secure their power.
I glanced at Darius again. His face was blank, emotionless — but I knew better. He didn't just agree with his father's words; he believed them.
I wasn't his wife. I was his pawn.
And worse... I was trapped.
Dinner ended on a strained note, with silence weighing heavier than the meal itself. The King pushed back his chair without a word, standing tall like a man who always expected to be obeyed. Mrs. Kerlin, however, lingered behind for a moment.
"Sleep tight, dear," she said softly, giving me a small smile — one that seemed forced, like she was trying too hard to pretend the evening hadn't been a complete disaster.
I nodded stiffly. "Goodnight."
She turned to Darius next. "Goodnight, son," she said, her tone just as warm.
Darius barely reacted. "Yeah," he muttered, already halfway to the door.
With that, the King and Queen disappeared down the hall, their voices fading as they climbed the stairs to their room. For a moment, I stood there, unsure of what to do next. The dining room suddenly felt too big, too empty.
I turned to follow Darius, but by the time I reached the hall, he was already halfway to our room — not bothering to wait for me, not even sparing me a glance. Typical.
I trailed behind him at a slower pace, dragging my feet. Each step felt heavier than the last. My mind was still spinning from the King's harsh words, Mrs. Kerlin's attempt at kindness, and Darius — cold, distant Darius — acting like I didn't even exist.
By the time I reached our room, Darius was already inside. The door stood open, but he didn't acknowledge me when I stepped in. Instead, he was at the bed, pulling off his boots with an air of indifference.
He tossed them aside, barely glancing my way before moving to the other side of the bed. Without a word, he sank down onto the mattress, one arm resting behind his head as he closed his eyes.
That was it. No instructions, no orders — just silence.
I stood awkwardly near the door for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should I say something? Ask him why he was acting like this? Or would that just invite more cold remarks?
With a sigh, I turned away and walked to the vanity. My reflection stared back at me — tired eyes, a face that looked drained from the endless back-and-forth of the day.
It's been a thick day, I told myself. Don't think too much. Just sleep.
I changed into something more comfortable, stealing quiet glances at Darius the whole time. He hadn't moved. He just lay there, still as a statue, his breathing steady.
But something felt... off. Not in a threatening way — just different. His face wasn't as guarded as usual. The sharp lines in his features seemed softer, less cold. He looked almost... tired.
I slipped beneath the covers, careful to keep as much distance between us as possible. Even with my back turned to him, I could feel his presence — a solid, unshakable reminder that no matter how big this bed was, I still wasn't alone.
The room was dark now, quiet except for the faint rustle of the curtains swaying against the window. I closed my eyes, but sleep didn't come. My mind wouldn't stop racing.
What if his father was right? What if I really was nothing more than a pawn in this?
I shifted slightly, glancing over my shoulder. Darius was still there, one arm draped across his chest, his face calm in sleep.
What's going on in that head of yours? I wondered. What are you really thinking?
I sighed and turned back, curling deeper into the blanket. My body ached from exhaustion,
but my mind refused to rest.
Tonight felt different — like the calm before a storm.