Chapter 3: The Price of Survival
At that very moment—
A spy rushed into the royal court, his face pale, his voice trembling with urgency.
"My lord! Something terrible has happened in the eastern region!"
Sultan straightened abruptly.
"The enemy has arrived?"
"No!" the spy replied quickly, his tone growing more intense.
"Not yet… but something far worse has happened!"
Sultan's heart tightened.
"What is it?"
The spy took a deep breath.
"Your military advisor… ordered the burning of all eastern villages. He declared a national mobilization, drove the civilians out of their homes, burned their harvests… and poisoned their wells."
Silence fell.
Then—
"What?!" Sultan roared, rising to his feet. "Did they provoke him? Why would he attack his own people?!"
The spy lowered his head.
"And worse, my lord… the commander of Al-Bouq Castle has sealed the gates. Refugees fleeing his actions are being denied entry."
Sultan's face turned pale.
"If this continues, they will have nowhere to go… they will revolt against us!"
His fists clenched tightly.
"That bastard… he's gone too far. This must be treason! The enemy must have sent him!"
His voice echoed across the hall.
"I will deal with him personally. Prepare the royal guard—we march immediately!"
---
One Week Later…
Anwar and Lamia finally arrived at Al-Bouq Castle.
But what greeted them—
Was chaos.
The massive gates were tightly shut.
Outside, countless refugees had gathered, their voices filled with despair. Some cried, some screamed, others simply sat in silence, having lost everything.
Many had spent nights sleeping beside the cold stone walls.
But the guards showed no mercy.
Not even Anwar and Lamia could push through the crowd easily. It took them nearly an hour to reach the gate.
Anwar stepped forward, his voice sharp and commanding.
"Open the gate."
The guard didn't even flinch.
"Entry is forbidden. Orders from above."
Anwar's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I am Military Advisor Anwar. Here—take a look at this."
He held out a royal seal.
The guard hesitated, then took it.
"Let me see…"
He turned to another guard.
"Brother, does this look real to you?"
After a few minutes of confused inspection, the guard returned awkwardly.
"To be honest… I'm not sure if it's real or not."
Anwar sighed lightly.
"As expected."
Then, he gestured toward Lamia.
"Do you recognize this lady?"
The guard froze.
His expression changed instantly.
"O-Of course! My apologies, Your Highness! Royal Deputy Lamia—please, this way!"
Lamia's brows tightened.
She said nothing, but the irritation in her eyes was clear.
Anwar, however, smiled faintly.
"Thank you. No need to apologize. I expected this kind of reception."
---
As they walked inside—
Lamia finally spoke in a low voice.
"…Did you plan this?"
Anwar didn't answer immediately.
"Is that why you brought me?" she continued, her tone tightening. "Am I just your pass to get through doors?"
Anwar glanced at her calmly.
"Don't take it personally. This is war. Such things are necessary."
Lamia stopped walking.
"But you used me," she said, her voice shaking with restrained anger. "I've ridden for days, slept under the open sky… just to become a tool for you?"
Anwar looked at her thoughtfully.
"How long have you served as the king's deputy?"
"…Eleven years."
"And in all that time," he continued, "have you never felt like a tool?"
Lamia hesitated.
"Sultan treated me well," she said firmly. "He is kind. Worth serving. Not… a selfish man like you."
Anwar chuckled softly.
"Perhaps that 'selfish man' is the only hope your king has left."
Lamia's anger flared.
"I can't believe he entrusted someone like you with this war!"
---
Suddenly—
Shouts erupted from outside the gates.
"It's him! The military advisor!"
"He's the one who burned our village!"
"What?! That b**tard—!"
"Kill him! He poisoned my well! Burned my home! I'll kill him!"
The roar of the crowd surged like a storm.
The castle gates slammed shut once more.
The cries of the refugees echoed—desperate, furious… almost inhuman.
Like souls trapped between life and death, screaming for justice.
---
Exhausted from the journey, Lamia was guided to the guest chambers by a young maid.
The girl had a gentle face, bright emerald eyes, and wore a spotless white apron, as if woven from milk itself. A colorful cap rested on her head, tied with a small black ribbon shaped like a butterfly.
She couldn't stop glancing at Lamia in admiration.
She's so beautiful…
She's about my age… and already the king's deputy…
Lamia, however, was too tired to notice.
She stepped into the room—
And collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep instantly like a fragile feather.
---
The maid, on the other hand—
Ran excitedly toward the servants' quarters.
"Lamia! She's here! The Royal Deputy Lamia is here—and she brought a strange man with her!"
The other maids stared at her.
"Stop lying," one of them—Toria—snapped. "The Royal Deputy never leaves the palace. Especially not now."
"I swear! She's in the guest room upstairs!"
Within moments—
A crowd of maids rushed toward the room.
They whispered in awe, their faces glowing with excitement.
"I saw her…"
"She's even more beautiful than the rumors…"
One by one, they peeked inside before running off to spread the news.
It didn't take long—
The entire castle knew.
Then the entire city.
Girls dressed in their finest clothes.
Homes were cleaned.
Men bought new garments.
The castle itself was decorated with flowers and perfumes.
A celebration was already forming.
---
But outside the gates—
Reality was far crueler.
While the castle bloomed with joy—
The refugees pounded endlessly on its doors.
Day after day, dozens starved… and died at its walls.
They struck the gates as if they were the gates of heaven itself.
But no one answered.
And in their hearts—
Only one desire remained.
**Revenge.**