The Villainous Lord's Obsession

7.

Instead of arriving by nighttime like Theo had predicted, we arrived the next morning, because I couldn’t keep up with it.

All my life, I don't remember being as uncomfortable as I was with Karden sitting behind me. Perhaps, I had been, on certain occasions during gatherings and what not. We were galloping along the plains, and in the distance, with the top of its towers, the castle could be seen. 

A great wall ran across the boundary of the city, snaking across the mountainside and all the way around. It made the city look like an impregnable fortress, and when I read about how impossible it was to break into the city. Pentland once tried to ransack it, but ultimately gave up in the end after a siege of three days. 

"Impressive, isn't it?" he suddenly whispered into my ear. "You could be a Queen if you weren't so insufferable."

"And you could be a king if you weren't so irritating," I fired back. He sighed, but then his hands almost seemed to tighten around me and pull me in tighter. I was flush against his chest, and with each swaying of the horse, I had to put up with his face coming so close to mine. His breath was on the exposed part of my neck, and I hated how it made me feel almost vulnerable. Here I was, practically in his arms, and he was doing all he could to piss me off. 

"You know what," he said, "I was wrong. You wouldn't be a fitting queen. Maybe a maid."

I tried to elbow him once again, but he forced my hand into position and held me so I couldn't move. 

"Don't even think about it," he growled. 

"Let go of me," I snarled, yanking my arm out of his hold. He sucked in a breath, and I knew that he was in pain from his wound. Somehow, that made me satisfied to know that I could still hurt him. He had taken me prisoner against my will, and who knew what he was going to do now? This deal that he was talking about was something I couldn't even begin to guess. And yet, from the way he spoke about it, he made it seem like it was something that would benefit us both. I felt a sudden tug on my hair, and I whirled around to find him yanking my head aside. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I thundered. 

"Your hair is getting in my way," he breathed . "Move aside."

"Do you think I'm sitting here by choice?" I asked. "You were the one who put me here, remember?"

"Well now I'm telling you to move," he snapped. "I can't see where I'm going properly."

"And how is that my concern?"

He cursed loudly, and he tried to roughly move my head out of the way again. 

"Listen, this isn't going to work out," I gritted. "Why don't we swap places, and you can ride in front?"

"Are you out of your mind?" he seethed. "I will die before I ever let a woman ride behind me. Besides, you are a prisoner. How do I know you won't try to escape?"

I rolled my eyes as I glanced over my shoulder and said, "Your ego is becoming extremely irritating. What is the problem with me riding behind you? Countless people have done it before. And if you're so worried that I will try to escape, perhaps I should draw your attention to the fact that you're on a freaking horse, and I couldn't outrun you even if I tried."

"That would be impossible." He suddenly said. I could hear the smirk in his voice, and I knew that, whatever he meant to say, was going to be something stupid.

"What would?"

"You are too short to ride from behind. How would you ever see with my towering figure in front of you?" He finished, the smirk in his voice becoming more evident.

I gritted my teeth. I wish there was something else I could taunt him with like the cockroaches and all. But because Karden was just a villain in the book and not the author's main focus, she didn't dwell much on explaining everything about him. Which makes it hard right now to figure anything out.

But that also doesn't mean I'm going to swallow his insults without giving him his share. So, I straightened my back even more, as though that would make me taller than I already am, and cleared my throat.

"Ah! For a tall man like you, shouldn't you have been able to see your future from where you sat? Perhaps, avoid the injury you encountered?"

"Are you taunting me right now, Miriam?"

Maybe it was the way he called my name, unlike how I was used to people calling me, or perhaps, the sound of his voice. Or possibly, the vibration of his voice against my hair. I had no idea which did the trick, but regardless, I felt goosebumps.

"Taunting you? Would I dare try to taunt a whole captain?" I bristled, feigning innocence. "Besides, since you claim to be so tall, why can't you see ahead of you? I'm short, remember."

"Forget it," he simply said, ignoring me completely. "You're not going anywhere. Besides, we're nearly there."

Indeed, we'd nearly reached the city. And from what I could see, there was a big celebration gathering at the gates, welcoming Karden and his men back to the city. I couldn't believe that they would celebrate his return, a man so wicked and evil that he couldn't give a damn about anyone else but himself. They should be booing him wherever he went, and not actually singing his praises as we rode towards the gate. 

One of the knights sent back must have told stories. Lies upon lies.

But it was when we passed through the gates that I actually saw the full scale of the celebration. Huge banners were hung in the streets to greet him upon his return, and women and children were singing his praises in the streets. I didn't have to turn to imagine the smug look on his face. He must be enjoying this, the insufferable goat. 

"You see," he whispered into my ear as we rode past a flock of women who swooned at the sight of him, "the women love me."

"It's because they're as blind as a bat," I said. "Only a fool would look at you and actually find you attractive."

He growled, and pulled me back into him even more. 

"Don't test me, Miriam," he said. 

"And what would happen if I do?" I snapped. "Will you try to kill me like you've killed thousands of other women?"

"At the moment, I'm resisting the urge to do just that," he said.

"Then why don't you?"

"Because, as I have been telling you for some time now, I feel indebted to you," he said. "In spite of your constant nagging and your irritating behavior, I still owe you my life. But once I repay that debt, then I can assure you that there won't be anything stopping me from putting you in your place."

"We'll just have to see about that," I shot back at him. I wasn't going to sit back and take this lying down. If he wanted to give me attitude, then I would pay him back in his own coin. He wasn't the most egotistical man I'd met after all. For over three years, I'd braved the streets of New York. I knew what it was like to have to put up with men who felt like they were entitled to the world, or simply felt that everyone was beneath them. Karden would have to try extra hard if he thought that he could somehow force me to succumb to his wishes. 

We galloped through the streets, with several people still cheering him as our small party rode towards the palace. The streets were narrower the closer we got to the palace, and the cobblestone was rough and dark, but it smoothened out leading towards the front gates of the palace in all its magnificence. Tall minarets, impressive architecture and several designs of what appeared to be pure gold were everywhere I looked. The palace stood out like a gem, and it was almost as if the city treasured it more than anything else. Where the rest of Balwynward looked like any other medieval city with the men in rough-spun tunics and the women in silk dresses, the palace held its owns beauty. Even the guards seemed to be clad in regal attire, their chainmail glistening under the sunlight. 

We stopped in the courtyard, which had gone deathly quite upon our entrance. The men bowed to Karden as he slid off the saddle slowly, and then he reached for my hand. 

"Where are we going?" I asked, refusing to disembark. 

"Stop asking questions and come with me this instant," he snapped. 

"I'm not coming off until you tell me where exactly you're taking me to," I argued. "For all I know, you could be dragging me to the dungeons, or to a s*******r ground."

"If that was my plan, I wouldn't ask you so gently to come off the bloody horse," he snapped. "I don't have all day, Miriam."

But still, I refused, determined to stand my ground. His hardened gaze didn't waver as he waited for me to climb down, but when I still refused, he swore loudly and suddenly grabbed my hand.

"Let go of me," I exclaimed, but he'd dragged me down swiftly and was now hurtling towards the front doors. 

"I don't know why you have to be so annoying," he seethed. 

"And I don't know why you have to be so rude," I yelled at him. "Let go of my hand."

"No."

"I said let go of me."

"And I said no."

His heavy footsteps ate up the distance, and the entire hallway was like a blur as we passed several artworks and statues. Inside, it was like a cathedral. And I barley had time to look at anything before we stopped at a large, bronze door with two guards on either side. 

I was never the type to bother reading about descriptions, at least, not about Karden's kingdom. But I could remember the exact way the throne room in Pentland was described to look like, and even the colors on the walls. Heck, including the paintings as well.

Karden let go of my hand then, and he turned to face me with a threatening look. 

"Not a single word from you," he said, the warning tone in his voice quite evident. "I mean it. Just stand behind me and let me do all the talking."

The doors were pushed open before I even had time to think about what he had said. We stepped in, and it was a large, lengthy room with several pillars on either side. Tall windows lined the entire right side, at at the far end of the room sat who I assumed to be the king. Beside him, a large man stood with a full, albeit greying beard. 

We walked along the burgundy carpet, and came to stand at the bottom of the platform on which the throne stood. The king was an old man, not quite so far gone but getting along in his years. His crown, wrought-gold with wreathes of diamonds, sat gracefully atop his head. He wore long, flowing robes of white, and his eyes shone as he stared down at Karden. 

The man beside the king however, was less regal and far less welcoming. He looked viscous, and he glared down at us with his hooked nose tipped up in the air. 

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Karden said with a stiff bow.

"You're alive," the man beside the king drawled in a lazy voice as Karden bowed before them both. 

"Indeed," he said. "Although I carry a wound for my trouble."

"And yet you do not return victorious," the man said. "I would assume that after all the trouble you put us through, you would be returning with some good news at least."

Karden stiffened, and his hand rested on the hilt of his blade which was attached to his belt. He looked nervous, like a child who was being scolded. 

"Give him a rest, Radomir," the king said. "You should be glad your son has returned alive and healthy. That's all that matters. The kingdom would have lost a powerful general if he fell."

And then it clicked. 

The man standing beside the king was Karden's father. He was a ruthless man, ferociously unforgiving, even to his own son. In the later parts of the story, we found out that everything Karden did was in an effort to please his father, and gain the cold man's favor. And looking at them, I could see how coldhearted his father was. Karden didn't show it much, but he was deeply in need of the man, in some way the author had described to be fatherly love, and he wanted nothing more on earth than to please his father. 

"As a matter of fact, father," he said, "I return with news."

"Not of your travels, surely," the father said. "God knows I'm bored already. And in case you have forgotten, your departure left some unfinished business which still needs to be addressed."

Karden flexed his hands beside him, clenching and unclenching them continuously. He always did that to calm himself down. And if it were anyone else but him, I would have felt sorry for him. But perhaps he needed someone to put him in place, since he didn't seem to have any respect for anyone in his life. 

He turned towards me then, and as he gestured with his arm, it was then that the two men seemed to even recognize that I was in the room with them. 

"This is Miriam," Karden said. 

They regarded me coolly, perhaps expecting me to do something. But I simply stood behind him, and waited for them to finish looking at my with their snobby looks and inflated egos. 

"You found a woman along the way?" his father asked. "How befitting for someone of your status."

"She's not just a woman, father," he said. "Miriam, as it happens, is the woman I intend to marry."

And it was like I had been knocked completely in the face by a truck.