Claimed By The Tyran Chapter 8: The Jealous Mistress

Chapter 8: The Jealous Mistress

Alaric sat in his study, his attention fixed on the stack of papers before him as he worked through them. He had delayed long enough, and now the weight of state matters had piled up beyond what he would have preferred, forcing him to deal with them whether he liked it or not.

His brows drew together slightly when a knock sounded at the door, and one of his guards stepped inside.

"What is it?" Alaric demanded, his gaze sharp as it cut toward the man.

"A mistress is here to see you," the guard replied.

Sothing flickered across Alaric’s face at the thought of Rosalind. He hadn’t seen her since morning, and though he would have preferred to cast these duties aside as usual, the pressure from the council had made that impossible.

Still, he knew better than to expect her as the girl was still afraid of him. "Which one?" he asked instead.

"It is her ladyship, Sabine," the guard said.

Alaric exhaled slowly, his expression shifting into disinterest. "Send her away."

The guard hesitated before speaking again.

"She said it is important, Your Majesty... that it concerns Lady Rosalind."

That was enough to make Alaric’s eyes narrow. "Let her in."

What could possibly involve Rosalind? He doubted it was anything trivial, and the thought lingered as he waited.

Sabine entered shortly after. She was his first mistress and she had long blonde hair and blue eyes. Her posture was poised as she approached.

Alaric rembered when she had first captured his attention, how easily she had held it, and how just as easily she had lost it. He had not even requested for her in quite so ti.

Leaning back in his chair, Alaric crossed his arm and a faint curve touched his lips. "What brings you here?"

"Your Majesty," Sabine greeted with a curtsy before stepping closer, her gaze softening as he lifted his gloved hand, the ruby on his finger catching the light. She bent to kiss it before straightening again.

"It concerns your new interest," she said.

Alaric’s expression dulled slightly, though his attention remained. "What about her?"

"I saw her attempting to send a letter," Sabine replied, producing the folded paper from within her garnt and holding it out. "This one."

Alaric’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. So Rosalind had already tried to reach out? His gaze lingered on the letter for a mont before shifting back to Sabine.

"And you chose to take it and bring it to ," he said.

Sabine blinked, montarily caught off guard. "Y-Your Majesty..."

"Give it here."

She placed it in his hand and with a sharp motion, he broke the wax seal, unfolded the letter as his eyes scanned the contents.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back slightly. His gaze darkened with sothing unreadable, and for a while, he said nothing at all, only letting out a quiet breath. So... she was already trying to run?

Sabine watched him carefully while searching his face for a reaction, but he gave nothing away. And she found herself leaning closer, unwilling to let the mont pass without adding her adding gasoline to the fire. "It seems your new interest has quite the will of her own," she said softly, moving behind his chair and her voice lowered. "You have never been fond of disobedient won."

Alaric folded the letter slowly, his grip tightening around it as his gaze shifted to Sabine. How bold of Rosalind! He thought inwardly.

Sabine t his eyes, her own narrowing slightly. "You even took her to the arena, your favorite place... are you truly that fond of her?"

"Are you jealous?" he asked with a hint of amusent returning to his voice.

A smile curved her lips, though there was sothing sharp beneath it. "She doesn’t seem like the kind to obey easily..." she said in a soft voice, sounding almost thoughtful.

"Perhaps," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, "but I do enjoy a challenge, don’t I?"

Sabine noticed how his eyes seed to light up as they discussed about Rosalind and she felt jealousy prickle at her. She cleared her throat as she diverted their discussion. She didn’t want to hear about Rosalind anymore. "Then why do you never take

to your favorite place?" Sabine couldn’t help but ask.

Alaric tilted his head slightly before raising his hand to her cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. Sabine leaned into it instinctively. "Next ti," he said in a smooth voice,"I will include your na among those fighting."

She stiffened imdiately. "I only wish to watch, I did not say I want to participate."

His lips curved into a smirk. "What are you getting worked up for? It was only a joke."

But her heart had already begun to race, because with him, it never truly felt like a joke. She knew he could really do it and watch her get killed while laughing.

"Return to your quarters, Sabine," He continued as his tone shifted back to indifference. "I will deal with her tomorrow," he said, and there was sothing in his tone that made it clear it was not a matter to be taken lightly.

Sabine was pleased.

But she wouldn’t have thought that Alaric intended to deal with Rosalind in a different kind of way.