CHAPTER 7: A DEAL WITH SHADOWS
The grand throne room of the castle was a monument to opulence and power. High ceilings adorned with intricate carvings loomed above, and the golden throne at the center glinted under the light of countless chandeliers. Lavish tapestries told stories of the kingdom’s past glory, though the man sitting on the throne looked less like a hero and more like a man grasping at straws.
King Alaric leaned back on the gilded chair, his bejeweled fingers drumming against the armrest. His crown sat slightly askew, and his sharp green eyes glinted with frustration. Despite the finery around him, his mood was sour.
“Power,” he muttered, his voice low and bitter. “What good is a king without power? A ruler who cannot command respect is no ruler at all.”
He glanced at the chamber doors, where two guards stood stiffly at attention. Even his own soldiers seemed indifferent, their loyalty rooted more in their paychecks than in any sense of duty. The nobles squabbled over their lands, the merchants grew richer than the crown, and the common folk… they barely acknowledged his rule.
“What has become of this kingdom?” Alaric growled, rising from his throne and pacing. His heavy robes swished against the polished marble floor. “Once, kings commanded armies, conquered nations, and bent the world to their will. Now? I’m nothing more than a puppet for advisors and bureaucrats.”
He stopped, his fists clenched. “I will not stand for it. This kingdom will bow to me. All of it. And I will see to it that—”
A sudden, heavy silence fell over the room, cutting through his rant like a blade. Alaric froze, his gaze snapping to the double doors. The guards, once standing upright, were now slumped against the walls, their spears clattering to the floor. Their chests rose and fell slowly, as though they’d simply fallen asleep.
“What in the—” Alaric’s voice faltered as unease coiled in his gut. He stepped away from the throne, his hand instinctively moving to the dagger at his side.
The air grew thick, almost suffocating, as a chilling aura seeped into the room. A shadow moved near the doorway, the faint sound of soft footsteps breaking the heavy silence. Then, she appeared—a figure cloaked in dark, flowing fabric that rippled as though alive. The hood of her cloak obscured her face, but strands of crimson hair escaped, catching the dim light. Her presence was like a living storm, an oppressive force that made Alaric’s skin crawl.
“Who… who are you?” Alaric demanded, his voice wavering despite his effort to sound authoritative.
The figure took a step closer, her movements deliberate and unhurried. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice smooth and mocking. “Quite the lonely throne you’ve built for yourself.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Alaric’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want? How did you get past my guards?”
The cloaked woman chuckled softly, the sound low and unsettling. “Your guards? They’re hardly worth mentioning. And as for what I want…” She paused, tilting her head. “Perhaps the better question is what you want, King Alaric.”
The king stiffened, his heart pounding in his chest. “How do you know—”
“Power,” she interrupted, her voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to echo in his mind. “The power to command, to rule without limits. The power to make this land—and every other land—yours.”
Alaric’s mouth went dry. He squinted, trying to see beneath her hood, but all he could make out was the faint curve of a smile—a menacing, knowing smile.
“Who are you?” he asked again, his voice hoarse.
“Someone who can give you everything you’ve ever desired,” she replied. Her hand rose, delicate and pale, as if offering something invisible. “But power always comes at a price.”
The king hesitated, his eyes darting between her and the unconscious guards. “Anything I want?” he asked cautiously, his fingers brushing the jeweled hilt of his dagger.
“Anything,” the cloaked figure purred. “Riches, dominion, the undying loyalty of your people. All of it can be yours… if you swear your undying loyalty to us.”
Alaric’s mind raced. The ominous presence of the woman should have repelled him, but her words stirred something deep within—a hunger, a greed that had festered for years. “How?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion. “How can you give me what I want?”
The figure’s smile widened, her aura pressing down on him like a tidal wave. “We will take this land and any other lands into our possession. You will remain king, ruling as you see fit, indulging in every desire your heart craves. In return, you serve us. Obey us. And if you stray from the path we set, you will suffer a fate far worse than death.”
Alaric’s eyes gleamed with a twisted mix of fear and greed. The promise of unlimited power was intoxicating, and the threat barely registered in the haze of his ambition. He raised a hand to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully, before a slow, eerie smile spread across his face.
“I accept your offer,” he said, his voice firm and resolute. “Do what you must.”
The cloaked woman lowered her hand, her posture relaxed but her aura no less oppressive. “Good. You’ve made the right choice, Your Majesty.”
She stepped back, her figure beginning to dissolve into shadows. Her voice lingered, cold and sharp. “I’ll be in contact soon. Remember our agreement. Betray us, and you’ll regret ever drawing breath.”
With that, she vanished, the darkness in the room receding with her. The guards stirred moments later, groaning as they slowly regained consciousness. Alaric barely noticed them, his mind consumed by thoughts of the power he had just been promised.
ON THE HILL
The night wind howled over the grassy hill overlooking the castle, the moon casting its pale light on the cloaked figure. Her crimson hair danced in the breeze as she stood there, the castle’s towers illuminated in the distance.
A wicked smile curved her lips, the moonlight catching the sharp edge of her teeth. “Thanks for taking the bait, you idiotic, greedy ruler,” she murmured, her voice dripping with disdain.
Her crimson eyes glowed faintly beneath the hood, and her aura swirled around her like a living shadow. “Step one is complete. Let’s see how long you last before you break.”
The figure turned, her cloak billowing behind her as she disappeared into the night, leaving only the faint whisper of her laughter carried on the wind.