Arthur cleared his throat softly. "Lady Serena, I am Arthur, the King’s advisor and a duke. His Majesty has asked to watch over you," he said in his usual calm tone.
Athyst, who had been standing nearby, excused herself politely, sensing that they needed privacy to discuss important matters.
Serena bowed slightly in respect. "It’s nice eting you, Lord Arthur," she greeted warmly.
"Arthur will do," he replied with a small smile. "The King has also provided a governor for you, soone to teach you the ways of the kingdom."
Serena frowned slightly. Why would the King provide with a governor? Who exactly am I in this palace? she wondered, confusion shadowing her delicate features. She nodded her head in approval.
"The governor will arrive soon. In the anti, you may take your ti exploring the palace grounds."
Serena nodded again, her fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of her gown. Arthur turned to leave, but before he could take a step, a voice behind them cut through the silence like a knife.
"Serena," the voice drawled mockingly. "I see you’re looking... different."
The sound of that voice sent waves of pure fear coursing through Serena’s body. Her breath hitched. Every muscle in her body stiffened. Slowly, she turned around, her heart hamring in her chest and there he was.
Marcus.
He stood a few paces away, his usual smirk plastered across his face, the sa one that haunted her nightmares. Her throat tightened, and suddenly, she couldn’t speak. Every word she wanted to say died in her throat as flashes of the past overwheld her mind.
Flashback
A much younger Serena was tied in a dark, damp room. Her wrists burned from the tight ropes that bound her. With desperate effort, she managed to loosen them and slip free. She ran barefoot down the cold stone corridor, her heart racing with one desperate thought, escape.
But she didn’t make it far.
"You’re trying to escape, aren’t you?" Marcus’s voice echoed cruelly as he appeared before her. Two guards grabbed her by the arms, forcing her still.
"You can never escape from here," he sneered, stepping closer. "This will be your ho, the only place you’ll ever live, be wanted, and be useful. Don’t even think of running away again... or you’ll die."
His laughter filled the room, sharp and cold.
Young Serena glared at him with hatred, her eyes brimming with tears. How could soone be so heartless? In a burst of anger, she broke free from the guards’ grip and lunged at him, her sharp nails clawing across his face. Blood trickled down his cheek.
Marcus froze for a mont, then his eyes burned with fury. He grabbed her hair violently, yanking her head back. With a swift motion, he drew his knife and slashed it across her neck. A clean, cruel cut that severed her voice.
Serena fell to the floor, choking on her own blood, her hands clutching her throat. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t breathe. The pain was unbearable.
"Throw her back in the room," Marcus ordered coldly, wiping the blood from his cheek. "And do not treat her."
The guards dragged her limp body back into the darkness, ignoring the blood that followed her trail.
-End of Flashback
The scar on Marcus’s cheek still remained, a mark of her defiance and his cruelty. Seeing it again made Serena’s stomach twist. That sa smirk on his face now felt like poison. Instinctively, her hand rose to her neck, brushing over the faint scar hidden beneath her collar.
Marcus noticed the gesture and smiled darkly.
Arthur sensed her distress imdiately. His usually composed expression hardened as he stepped forward, placing himself protectively between Serena and Marcus.
"Lord Marcus, is there a problem?" Arthur asked evenly. "Or do you require sothing?"
Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "I was speaking to Serena. Are you her mouthpiece now, Arthur? Or is talking to forbidden?"
Arthur kept his tone calm, though his patience was thinning. "I’m sorry, Lord Marcus, but as you can see, Lady Serena does not wish to have a conversation with you. Kindly excuse us."
Marcus chuckled, his eyes glinting with mockery. "Ah, I see. She’s now being called a Lady. Interesting. I suppose the King’s generosity has made her forget her place. Tell , did you beg for rcy to earn that title... or did you offer sothing else in return?"
Serena’s hands tightened around her dress. Anger and humiliation battled in her chest. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stop but fear silenced her. Despite being in Alexander’s palace, Marcus was still a high-ranking lord. She was nothing compared to him.
Arthur clenched his fists but maintained his composure. "Lord Marcus, this behavior is unacceptable—"
"Oh, Arthur," Marcus interrupted with a cruel laugh. "You’re just as pitiful as she is. A duke and the King’s advisor, yes, but still a servant elevated only by the King’s favor. You don’t have the right to speak to unless I grant it. Alexander isn’t here, and I wonder what he’d say if I report how his servants treat ?"
Arthur’s jaw tightened. He knew Marcus’s reputation, always looking for trouble, always seeking to provoke.
Marcus smirked again and turned his gaze to Serena. "A servant will always remain a servant. And you, Serena... no matter what you give to the King, you’ll always be the lowly slave he saved and uses as he pleases. Unwanted. A bed warr and nothing more. If you think Alexander is any better than I am, you’re gravely mistaken."
His words hit Serena like daggers. Her heart pounded in her chest, sha and fury flooding her veins. Arthur was about to respond when a sharp, confident voice cut through the tension.
"I don’t care who you are," Athyst said coldly, striding toward them. "I don’t care what title you hold, what pit you crawled out from, or what eting brought you here but this is my palace. And that does not give you the right to speak to Lord Arthur or Lady Serena in such a manner."
Everyone turned toward her.
Marcus frowned, clearly displeased. "And you are?" he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance.
"Princess Athyst," she replied, her voice steady and laced with sarcasm. "You’re much dumber than I expected you to be, Lord Marcus."
Shock flickered across his face before it quickly lted into a forced smile. "Your Highness, forgive . I failed to recognize you. You’re... sharper than I imagined."
Athyst scoffed. "Playing smart, are we? I wonder what the King would say if he learned that you disrespected his advisor in his own palace and insulted him by calling him a man-whore?"
Marcus’s smirk faltered, and Athyst’s smile widened in satisfaction.
He straightened, his jaw tight. "I’m afraid this discussion will have to end here. Forgive for taking your ti, Your Highness. A word of advice. your sharp tongue may very well be your downfall."
"Lord Marcus—" Arthur began, but Marcus was already turning away, his cloak sweeping behind him as he strode off.
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