1001 Nights with the Lycan King

Chapter 5

“By the goddess!”

Sherazi’s exclamation of surprise woke me sooner than I was physically ready. I groaned, my body ached in thousand different places. It hurt to move and if I had not broken a rib, surely I had bruised a few. The sensation throbbing across every inch of my body was akin to repeatedly being pummeled into the ground.

“What happened?!”

I raised my head from the massive bed that felt like it was swallowing me whole. She was eyeing the torn tapestries…the ripped sheets…

Her eyes rose to meet mine through the parted curtains and a curse issued from her lips.

“What happened?”

I looked down at my body, grimacing in pain over the slight movement. My own eyes widened as I recalled that I’d been so exhausted, I had fallen asleep in the tattered silk chemise from last night. A chemise that, in its torn state, exposed my entire upper torso, which was now severely bruised. I moved my hand to reach for a sheet, only to recall I’d ripped them all last night to make a rope. To escape. Except I hadn’t escaped. Now they might just skewer me and place my head on a pike for all to see. I had ruined priceless works of art in my zeal last night. One tapestry alone was worth more than my entire hut.

“No..no..no,” Sherazi shook her head, the tension on her face worsening with every passing moment.

Pursing her lips, with swift efficiency, she headed to the doors of the balcony. I’d left them open last night. Truly, my body had been screaming in pain. It had taken every last vestige of my strength last night to drag myself into bed and fall asleep.

Her voice wafted inside, panic-stricken.

“Oh goddess have mercy on us all. This does not bode well! You…you…”

She rushed back inside, the remains of my rope in her hands, face pale.

“You tried to escape last night,” she rasped out, looking for all the world as if she was the one about to be sent to the dungeons.

“I came back,” I retorted swiftly, praying that this tiny girl would prove useful.

Would she keep my secret? I moved off the bed, trying to stand but winced when my cut up feet twinged in protest.

“You are injured,” Sherazi gasped, eyes flitting to the bloodstained silk still wrapped around my feet.

Sherazi’s eyes then went to the untouched prayer mat resting at the foot of the bed. Her lips pressed together, confusion flickering across her eyes.

“You did not even pray.”

She made it sound like I had committed the gravest sin.

The doors flung open without warning. Sherazi froze. My eyes met a man who, for a minute, I thought might be our king. I had only ever seen the man from a distance when he addressed his people from the balcony of this palace. One time, I’d watched him from afar when he travelled through the city of Ilm on his elephant.

The man had sat upon his makeshift throne, draped in thin gold fabric that fluttered in the breeze. The poor animal beneath him had born the weight of a ruthless killer.

But the kind eyes that stared back at me could not be those of the king. They were smiling kind eyes that sought to reassure me. Brown eyes. The king’s eyes were green.

“Ah, you are the one that has created such a ruckus.” Amusement rather than anger colored his tone as his eyes took in my bruised and battered form. His lips tilted in amusement, eyes going to the torn rope held by Sherazi.

Sherazi took a step back, her eyes wide in fear.

“I had nothing to do with this, your grace,” she murmured, her tone low and respectful.

“Of course you didn’t,” he chuckled, walking forward towards me.

I took a cautious step back. Who was this man?

He wore a sword at his side. His chest was draped with a thin vest, revealing well-defined muscles. It seemed more like a decorative accessory than a practical article of clothing. On top of his head rested a turban accented by a single dark green jewel. Brute strength radiated from him. He was a warrior, like me.

I looked at his face again. This man seemed familiar…

“My name is Kadin,” he said kindly, eyes on my face. “I am…King Zayed’s cousin and general of his army. You may have met my father yesterday. The Grand Vizier?” His eyes glinted in amusement, taking in the look of consternation that I made no attempt to hide. “I can assure you, I am nothing like him.”

He again took a step closer to me. I took another back.

I was all too aware that my body was scantily clad before this man. There was a huge rip across the front of my chemise from ribs to abdomen. The side of my chemise was also frayed, exposing my left hip. My underclothes were the only articles of clothing effectively shielding parts of my body that I had never exposed to another man. When one is training to be a warrior, there is little time for love or even frivolous dalliances.

Kadin seemed to finally register my awkwardness and respectfully turned his back to me.

“Sherazi, draw her a bath. See that someone tends to her wounds. Your Highness, it was a pleasure to meet you. The goddess knows you are exactly what we’ve been waiting for.”

And with that, Kadin blew out of the room as easily as he’d entered. Taken aback by his cryptic message, I could only stand in my torn chemise utterly confused.

“Come, we must prepare you …again,” Sherazi muttered.

And so it began anew. The maids all collectively pushed, pulled, and trussed up my body. They treated the purple bruises by rubbing them with a healing salve. It alleviated the pain and made the discoloration less apparent.

By the time I was ready for my wedding, I could hardly recognise myself as the unsightly injured woman from this morning.

“It is time, my lady,” Sherazi muttered respectfully, leading me towards the great hall where I would finally meet my killer.

******

“I do."

“I do.”

“I do.”

I spoke the words thrice, for making a vow thrice makes it binding. My head remained bent during the entire ceremony. I stood before long garlands of cascading fragrant jasmine flowers that formed a delicate curtain between the King and I.

It was customary for the vows to be said through the partition. My eyes lifted to look up through my golden gauzy veil only to see the figure of the King walk towards me, parting the long strands of white and red flowers hanging between us. He stepped closer, reaching for my veil.

My heart was now fluttering incessantly against my ribcage, frantic to be set free. Even it could sense we’d been caged. We were in danger. I swallowed audibly, wondering frantically, ’Is this man going to kill me where I stand? In my bridal dress? In my mother’s jewelry; my hands still red from henna?’

He reached for the edge of my veil. My hand clenches at my side, my eyes remain locked on his waist where a grand sword rested. I would never be able to reach his sword in time. Safely hidden within the draping of my skirts, the dagger was out of sight. I would never be able to reach for my dagger in time either.

If I wasn’t so sure that his guards would kill me within the blink of an eye, I might have reached for my weapon. I might have buried it deep within his dark heart so that no more women died at his hands. I am not the first. Nor will I be the last if I fail.

King Zayed’s hands gently trailed along the tiny pearls sewn into the hem of my veil with such love by my mother. Had she known she was preparing my burial dress, she might not have completed this task so ardently before her passing. The King stilled, a distinct deep exhale from him registering in the panicked recesses of my mind.

And then the veil was lifted whilst my eyes remained fixated on the floor, trailed on his gold sandal clad feet mere inches from my long skirt.

I shut my eyes momentarily, feeling as if I were a helpless animal backed into a corner. Inhaling deeply, I hardened my heart with resolve. Finally, I tilted my chin to gaze defiantly into….

I blink, taken aback momentarily.

Pools of dark green hazel stare back at me. His gaze is hard and firm. Resigned. Not cold and ruthless. Not the look of a man who wants to kill me. He stares at me for a minute that seems more like an eternity, taking in my hair braided intricately with jasmine flowers. Those weary eyes sweep over my features as if he is looking for something. Briefly, they dip down to the rest of my form before turning to address his noblemen.

“I present to you….Queen Amara of the Kingdom of Elamaria!”

His voice is loud and commanding. Authoritative. It sends a shiver down my spine.

“I call upon you all to honor and protect her. She is the heart and soul of our realm. So mote it be, under the watchful gaze of the divine goddess, may our allegiance be steadfast and true; now and forevermore.”

The words were repeated after King Zayed, spoken in hushed reverent murmurs.

“So mote it be, under the watchful gaze of the divine, may our allegiance be steadfast and true; now and forevermore.”

A featherlight touch on my arm alerted me to the fact that the King beckoned for me to walk alongside him. Confused, I followed, nearly stuttering to a stop when his hand touched the small of my back, guiding me down the aisle. Away from the priest who made us recite our vows. Away from the nobles gathered around. The Grand Vizier stood at the doors. He bowed his head, though his eyes never left mine.

“Congratulations King Zayed….Queen Amara.”

My name was spoken ominously. As if he himself might be the harbinger of my death. Will he be? Because this man standing next to me did not seem inclined to kill me. Not yet anyway. Not in the way he touched me. Not in the way he looked at me…

“Take her to her rooms,” King Zayed directed with another deep exhale, handing me off to one of my maids.

“Yes…my king,” the maids respond collectively, heads bowed, eyes on the floor.

I was led away by them, wondering …when does he plan to kill me?

My hands shook, my breathing came hard and fast. Was he going to fulfill his marital rights and then kill me? A horrified laugh burst forth from my lips as I enter the queen’s chambers.

“My queen?” Sherazi queried in alarm. “Are you all right?”

“I…I….” Words failed me. For how can one describe the abject horror of the absolute certainty that tonight will be their last? I was not fool enough to think I would survive the night unscathed. “Leave me!” I snapped angrily.

If I was going to die, they could at least allow me a few moments of peace. To think. To…figure out my next course of action. I was still alive. There had to be a reason I was still alive!

The dagger. I needed to use the dagger. Tonight when he came. If he came…

“We must prepare the marital bed,” Sherazi whispered, helplessly gesturing towards the vast bed covered in decadent pillows and beige silk sheets.

New sheets. I also vaguely registered that new tapestries now adorned the walls.

"You must wait to receive in the King in your marital bed," Sherazi whispered, eyes sad as she looked at me.

’More like deathbed,’ I thought to myself darkly.

My hand unconsciously went to press against the side of my leg. The side where I had my dagger tucked away. I tensed. Were they going to make me change frist?

“Come, my queen…” Sherazi murmured soothingly, pulling the bedsheets back and motioning for me to sit on the bed.

I complied, huddling in on myself and clutching my legs to my chest.

He really was going to kill me in this bed.

“Would you like to eat anything while you wait?”

My stomach rolled in protest. It seemed as if they wanted to feed me to assuage their own guilt.

“No,” I whispered, letting my head rest over my knees as my hands fisted in the fabric of my skirt.

The beads and pearls dug into the soft skin of my cheek. I embraced the pain. I needed it to anchor myself.

“All right my queen…good….goodnight,” Sherazi whispered before retreating out of the room.

I knew what she meant. She was telling me good-bye. Rose petals were spread around me, the deep red contrasting with the light gold accents of the bedsheets. Circling the canopy overhead were strings of blood-red flowers. Instinctively, my hand went to rest over the cool blade of my dagger hidden in my skirt. I breathed, letting the firm silver keep me grounded me. Keep me from panicking. I rubbed my cheek harshly against the beads of my skirts, resting my head on my knees. There was no way out. Last night, I was nearly attacked by that monster that patrolled the perimeter.

“You will not panic, Amara,” I scolded myself, my scared voice bouncing off the walls in the empty room. “You will not fail.”

My grip tightened over the hilt of the blade.

I did my best to look vulnerable and scared. Always let the predator underestimate its prey. I waited with baited breath…the minutes turned into an hour. Then another hour. Was he not coming? Was I just supposed to sit here like a statue and die from hunger? Was that the—

My thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open slowly. King Zayed strode in, his face blank. His lips were set in a harsh scowl. I looked at him approaching the bed in the candlelight. The door creaked shut behind him, pulled closed by a guard. There was a guard waiting outside to take my dead body away once the deed was done. My heart thundered in my chest, begging me to run.

The bed dipped when the King sat down next to me.

“Have you no will to live any longer?”

His voice was rough, a deep timbre that carried the tone of a weary traveller.

“Why did you volunteer?” He pressed when I remained quiet and huddled in the middle of the bed

If he struck first, I’d have to be ready to dodge his attack. My mind searched the room, looking for anything I could use to my advantage. I was looking everywhere but at him.

My hands shook but firmly remain clenched at my sides. I had to wait. Knuckles grazed against my cheek. I was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected gentle touch.

“It is a shame you will be dead by dawn,” King Zayed muttered before pushing me down to lie on the bed.

A/N: hi. this story has been published to K i n d / e unl!imited. You can check the rest of it out there. And feel free to join Ruby's Reading Room on f a c e b o o k to find out more. I hope you enjoyed this little preview!