Wings of Ambition Shackled by Fate

Valeria heard screams, and suddenly, she was back in the throne room. Gloria stood in front of her, alive and whole. A surge of relief washed over her, and she ran toward the woman who had been like a mother to her in this recent, dark month. She threw her arms around Gloria, clinging to her. "Gloria! I thought you were dead! I had a horrible nightmare." Her voice broke into sobs, but Gloria didn't return the embrace. Instead, she pushed Valeria away, her expression twisted with anger.

"Because of you, my daughter was married off. Selena will suffer because of your selfishness." Gloria's voice was cold and accusing. "You're nothing but a wretch."

Valeria staggered back, horror dawning as the words sunk in. Then, before she could protest, the king appeared beside Gloria, a sword gleaming in his hand. No. This couldn't happen again. She lunged forward, grabbing his arm in desperation. "Stop! Not again!"

But it was too late. The blade sliced through the air, and Gloria's head rolled to the ground, blood splattering across Valeria's body. She was drenched, the thick warmth of it seeping through her clothes. She couldn't breathe. Suddenly, Gloria's severed head on the floor twisted, her eyes glaring up, her mouth opening in a ghastly scream.

"Look at what you did! You killed me! I died because of you!"

Valeria choked on her sobs, her body wracked with horror. "I'm sorry," she gasped, her voice raw and broken. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm so, so sorry."

The screams grew louder, echoing and overlapping, and the blood around her rose like a wave, drowning her in its warmth and suffocating thickness. She tried to claw her way out, her mind screaming in terror as everything faded into darkness.

She woke with a scream, jolting upright. She was in her bed, her skin clammy with sweat, her breath coming in short, frantic gasps. She glanced around the dim room, trying to steady herself. "A nightmare," she whispered, clutching her chest as her heart thundered.

But the horror remained. The memories were real. Gloria was dead. Selena had been married off to some despicable lord. And it was all because of her. The last thing she remembered was pounding on her door, begging for water to wash off the blood, before everything went black.

She looked down at her hands; they were clean, but bandaged. Her eyes trailed up to her forearms, noticing they were wrapped as well. "You scratched your arms open," a cold voice interrupted her thoughts.

Her gaze snapped up, and her blood ran cold as her eyes met his. The king was sitting on a chair, facing her bed, watching her with a disturbingly calm expression.

"I found you collapsed in front of your door when I came to check on you," he continued, his voice soft, almost gentle. The incongruity of his tone made her skin crawl.

As her mind cleared, she became aware of her clean nightgown and the absence of blood. She went rigid, a chill racing down her spine. Did he…?

The king must have seen the horror flash in her eyes because he quickly spoke again. "A maid washed you and dressed you," he clarified.

Valeria's gaze hardened. "Will you kill her too, like Gloria, for helping me?" Her voice was barely a whisper, yet each word was laced with bitterness.

"Who?" he asked, his brow furrowing as though trying to remember. Her chest tightened. He didn't even know the name of the woman he'd murdered.

"Ah, you mean the maid from yesterday," he said with a sigh, sounding almost bored. "I had no choice. I told you to behave, but you embarrassed me in front of the guards. You disobeyed. I had to make an example. This is your fault." He looked at her with a dismissive wave. "She was collateral damage. Just behave better next time, understood?"

A hollow chuckle escaped Valeria's lips as she looked away, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her fault. Gloria's death was a mere inconvenience, nothing more.

The king sighed as if she were a stubborn child. "Look, I know you're angry, but married couples have disagreements. It's perfectly normal. Now stop looking as though someone important died." He gave a derisive laugh. "Well, someone did, but it doesn't matter. Just forget it."

He rose from the chair and walked over to her bed, his shadow falling over her. "Consider it a lesson. You are mine, and I won't tolerate anyone getting too close to what's mine." He leaned down, his tone soft but chillingly possessive. "Are we good now?"

Were they ever "good"? His words felt surreal, as if he were a madman incapable of understanding the devastation he'd caused.

Valeria stared at the wall, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why?"

"Why what?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience.

"Why did you force me into this marriage?" She looked up at him, her eyes hollow, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

For a moment, he seemed taken aback, his composure wavering. Then he recovered, his expression turning dismissive. "That's a discussion for another day. You're emotional, and you need rest."

"Why?" she repeated, her voice cracking.

The king's jaw clenched, and he let out a frustrated sigh. "I told you, not now. Rest, Valeria." His tone grew sharper as he pushed her shoulders back, forcing her to lie down. He leaned over and pressed a cold, possessive kiss to her lips, making her stomach churn.

"I love you, my dear" he murmured. "Once you've calmed down, we'll talk."

With that, he straightened and left, closing the door behind him. The sound of the lock echoed in the silence, a final, suffocating reminder of her entrapment.

Left alone, Valeria lay motionless, staring up at the ceiling as silent tears traced paths down her cheeks. She felt like a prisoner in her own body, trapped beneath the weight of her despair, the guilt, and the suffocating darkness that surrounded her.