1001 Nights with the Lycan King

Chapter 3

Richly embroidered tapestries woven in gold thread draped the walls, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within me. As I made my way further into the chamber, the Queen’s chambers, the scent of exotic spices hung heavy in the air, mingling with the heady fragrance of perfumed oils. Dwindling rays of sunlight filtered through intricately latticed windows, casting dappled patterns of light which danced and pirouetted teasingly with the shadows and created a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of patterns on the smooth, reflective surface of the polished marble floors. My floors.

The great four-poster canopy bed rested on the far wall, its frame crafted from dark rich wood and carved with intricate designs. The silky deep red fabric of the canopy cascaded down, pooling onto the floor in elegant folds. Never had I seen such a luxurious room. My room.

My floors.

My room.

For tonight.

Beneath this facade of grandeur, I sensed the ominous presence of sinister intentions. The king’s objectives were clear, his lust for blood palpable. The grandeur of this room, with its opulent furnishings and intricate carvings felt suffocating, akin to a gilded cage designed to ensnare me in the clutches of a murderer.

The maids pulled me every which way, exfoliating my body, harshly plucking my eyebrows until they were in two perfectly shaped arches, ridding me of every single strand of hair that grew on even an inch of skin other than my scalp. It was ridiculous.

“Does he demand a woman’s privates be rid of pubic hair before killing them?” I mocked darkly as the women busily scrubbed away at my arms with the yellow paste more commonly known as uptan.

I sat in nothing but a white chemise so they could work on me, like I was some doll to be dressed up for playtime. I’d never played with dolls. I had much preferred swords.

My arms, legs, and stomach felt raw from the abrasive mixture. I had never felt so exposed in my life. One would think a small mercy of not being subjected to this farce granted if one were to die. One would be wrong.

My words made them all give pause, their hands going slack as they registered the barb. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. All five of the maids looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else but here, looking at me. The girl whose days were numbered. A flash of sympathy crossed their faces. That only made me angrier. I did not need their pity.

Once the maids had properly trussed me up in the finest silk, like a sacrificial lamb, an array of food was brought into the room. The floor was adorned with cushions for comfortable seating, arranged around the wooden table situated in the middle of this behemoth of a room. It was too big for one person. It was too big to die in. The thought curdled my hunger and the lump of dread that had settled into the pit of my belly only became more pronounced.

My stomach heaved in protest despite the freshly cooked lavash. Steam rose out of the flatbread, beckoning me to dip it into the aromatic curry. But I was not hungry. I did not need a last meal. I wanted to figure out how to live. I did not want to die.

Candles were lit around the queen’s chambers and I was finally left alone to my own dark musings. Sherazi, the head maid, was a meek little thing. She was tiny, and entered with her head bowed to ask if I had need of anything before they retired for the night.

A prayer mat was left at the foot of my bed. I was supposed to pray tonight. Pray so that my sins would be cleansed before I died tomorrow. Praying to the goddess above had not helped the ones before me. Prostrating myself on a prayer mat with my forehead touching the ground would get me nowhere tonight. I stood, determined to not let those complicit in my impending murder dictate what I was to do.

Moving forward, I flung the latticed doors open that led out to my balcony. It was a beautiful night. The stars above seemed to twinkle happily, oblivious to my impending doom. The full moon was bright, casting a luminous glow across the green foliage below. Below me, the palace grounds were a splash of greenery amongst the honeyed sands and dirt paths of Ilm. Torches softly illuminated the ground below, torches that were slowly flickering out as servants moved about the grounds preparing to retire.

An entire fleet of servants worked tirelessly to maintain the gardens below, to insure the palm trees and flowers remained vibrant for the King’s pleasure. Beyond these gardens lay an expanse of farmland tilled to provide sustenance. Beyond that…lay freedom from these oppressive walls. A movement from afar caught my attention. Most likely an animal scavenging for food. But now, standing out here….a tiny flicker of hope niggled its way into my brain. I peered down from my balcony, into pitch black darkness, wondering how much of a jump this actually might be. Not much apparently. My lithe body turned deftly to look at the golden doors that led out of this room and into the hallway.

There were guards posted right outside those doors. Not to protect, but to keep their victim from running away. But here…in the back lawns….there were no guards. I watched as the last of the servants below disappeared back inside the palace, the palace grounds now swathed in shadows. My heart thudded against my ribcage as the possibility began to form in the deep recesses of my brain.

I could escape, run home to my family. We could steal away in the middle of night. Ashad would get word to Salim for Asya on where to find us. It was a wild plan. But it was plausible. My heart thumped wildly as the possibilities raced through my head. My brain worked vigorously, all possible scenarios racing through it only to circle back to one thought as clear the desert sky: I could do this.

Without further ado, my feet carried me back into the chambers that were supposed to serve as my tomb. I ripped the sheets from the bed before reaching for the luxurious tapestries that adorned the walls. With a violent jerk, I ripped those ancient priceless relics off the walls without a second thought. My hand shook as my dagger tore into the handmade depictions of battles fought long before my time. Of queens who had ruled long before I. Queens that had lived to tell the tale.

My hands were busy at work, viciously destroying centuries old works of art more expensive than the mud house I lived in. I did not care. I was getting out of here.

Dividing the cloths into long thin strips was only the first part of my task. The next was tying them together, knotting the expensive fabric to create a long rope which I would tether to my balcony before using to lower myself to the ground. In quick succession, I looped my haphazardly made creation around the railing of my veranda. Sending up a silent prayer for success, before closing my eyes, I jumped.

My hands gripped the soft fabric, legs slipping against the silken material as I clung to the slender rope for dear life. I remained suspended in the darkness like a spider dangling from a silken thread, looking down at the deep abyss before me. It seemed like a longer way down than I had anticipated. My heart skipped a beat as a wave of vertigo overtook me. My grip on the rope grew tighter, a fierce resolve pushing back against the encroaching panic. Now was the moment to stand firm, to refuse surrender to fear. Slowly, I began to move downward, legs slipping over the knots, hands aiding my body’s descent.

A sense of urgency pulsed through me with each passing second. Because with every downward movement, I could feel the makeshift rope groaning under the strain, the ominous creaking echoing in the stillness of the night. These fine threads had not been made to hold the weight of someone barreling towards escape from death. They had been made for beauty. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, its frantic rhythm matching the cadence of my hastened descent. Almost there. The rope groaned in protest. It wouldn’t hold much longer.

With a solid, triumphant thud, my sandal clad feet hit the ground, and I finally allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief. Now, I had to get out. Freedom was within my grasp and I hastened my stride, completely lost but firm in the knowledge that at some point, I would encounter the palace walls indicating the border of the palace grounds.

That imbecile Vizier would realize he had underestimated this ‘girl’ come morning. The murderous king would be denied his prey. The pit of my stomach dropped as I thought of what he might do. Would he find someone else to kill? Guilt crept up my spine. I was escaping, only to leave a spot open for some other unsuspecting innocent female. Someone who might not be able to defend herself as well as I.

My steps began to falter as I looked every which way, wondering if I was making the right decision. A frustrated sigh escaped my lips, my conscience roaring to life. Should I turn back? My eyes tried to discern these unknown surroundings, but it was too dark. The moon had dipped behind the clouds, cloaking everything in the night’s shadow.

With another sigh, more resigned than frustrated at this point, I realized that the border walls were still very far off. The back of my neck prickled with an eerie awareness as another thought struck. There were no guards for miles and miles. It seemed odd that the palace was teeming with them. But here, in this open endless space where enemies could easily infiltrate…not a single sentry was posted. The thought did not sit well in my mind. Were they overconfident? Careless? No. It was something else…

Suddenly, a delicate fragrance wafted through the air, drawing my attention to the night flowers blooming amidst the dark. The Queen of the Night only bloomed at this time amongst the prickly thorns of the cactus. It was my favorite flower, but rare on the barren lands of Ilm. Of course our king’s lush gardens would carry them. I moved closer to look at the white flowers, their petals shimmering like silver pearls, beckoning me closer with an otherworldly allure. Without hesitation, I reached out to pluck one, inhaling the intoxicating scent in hopes that the familiarity of something I was partial too, might calm my nerves. It was imperative to ground myself and strategize.

The flower found it’s way behind my ear as I decided to stop second-guessing myself. Tonight, I was getting out of here and then my family and I would run away. We just had to make it to one of the neighboring kingdoms. The tribal chieftains inhabiting the far-off mountains which bordered our lands were constantly at odds with our kingdom. Maybe they would give us refuge? Or maybe we could even seek asylum in the land of Solaria, a beautiful tropical island ruled by a just king and his beautiful queen. The possibilities were endless.

But as I turned to continue on my way, a sharp crack shattered the silence behind me, jolting me from my reverie. My heart hammered against my ribs as I spun around, my senses on high alert.

“Who is there?” I called out, voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling with uncertainty.

What would they do if they found me out here trying to escape? Had I just sealed my impending doom a night early?

No answer came, only the eerie silence of the night enveloping me like a shroud. Panic clawed at the edges of my consciousness as I scanned the darkness for any sign of movement. I could hear the heavy breathing of…an animal. My chest constricted with a mix of relief—knowing a guard hadn’t discovered me and trepidation over what exactly had. I braced for whatever unseen animal lurked, ready to pounce.

My hand moved to reach for my dagger, but then I stilled in complete shock. The moon peeked through the clouds, showing me exactly what had been stalking me.

Without warning, a great monstrous figure emerged from the shadows, its hulking form looming ominously before me. As the moonlight cast its eerie glow upon the creature before me, I beheld a sight that sent shivers down my spine. Towering above me on two powerful legs, the beast stood upright with an imposing stature that seemed to defy the laws of nature. The midnight black fur bristled with a primal intensity, every muscle rippling beneath the surface like coiled springs ready to unleash their fury.

But it was the creature’s face that chilled me to the bone. A snout protruded forward, sniffing the air eagerly. A vicious, menacing snarl formed on the beast’s face, sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light like daggers poised to strike. The pointy alert ears twitched with heightened senses, attuned to the slightest movement in the surrounding darkness.

Despite the humanoid form, there was no mistaking his wolfish visage that stared back at me with eyes that burned with an otherworldly intensity. They glowed with an unnatural red hue, reflecting the primal instincts that lurked within the depths of the creature’s soul. Its claws, long and razor-sharp, flexed with lethal intent, poised to rend flesh from bone within a single swipe.

In that moment, I realized with a sinking dread that I stood face to face with a being that defied comprehension, a creature of myth and legend brought to life in the darkness of the night. And as it loomed over me with a predatory glare, I knew that I was utterly at its mercy, a mere mortal ensnared in the merciless grip of a beast that walked the line between man and monster. A creature that looked at me with the unmistakable gleam of a predator looking upon its prey.

A/N: UH OH. What is our heroine going to do now?