Free Web NovelChapter 459: Chapter 459
The mage’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of understanding passing through them. He had already deduced more than she had said aloud. Still, he asked no questions.
With a quiet sigh, he took the sword from her and moved to his work desk. The blade made a soft sound as he set it down upon the flat surface. With practiced ease, he flipped open a large, leather-bound grimoire to the exact page he needed, the parchment worn from frequent use. Without wasting time, he picked up a small knife and sliced open his palm in a single, fluid motion.
Blood welled instantly from the cut, and began to drip down his hand. As it did, he murmured under his breath, speaking words in a language older than the kingdom itself. Dipping his fingers into the blood, he began tracing intricate runes along the flat of the blade.
Each symbol was intricate, drawn with the care of someone who understood the cost of error.
When he finished one side, he turned the sword over and repeated the process, his voice never faltering.
Nheera stepped closer, drawn in by the cadence of his incantation. Her gaze was fixed on his work. She watched intently as the blood smeared across the metal began to fade then vanish entirely, as though the blade itself had consumed it.
By the time he spoke the final word, there was no trace of it left.
The mage lifted the sword and extended it toward her. Nheera took it without hesitation, sliding it back into its sheath. From within her cloak, she produced a coin pouch and tossed it onto the desk.
His gaze flicked from the pouch to her, and though he did not open it, he already knew. The sound alone told him she had paid double.
For the first time since she had arrived, a faint smile touched his lips.
"I would tolerate people far more," he said, "if they paid as generously as you do."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Nheera replied coolly, turning toward the door. "Competence is becoming increasingly rare. You are the only one who has yet to disappoint me."
And with that, she left.
***
Elka slipped quietly into Hairan’s chamber that night.
The room was empty, as she had expected. He had not yet returned to the palace, which meant that when he did, he would be very intoxicated, which in turn might make him careless. She wanted him drunk but not so far gone that he would be useless.
Her heart pounded violently against her ribs as she closed the door behind her, careful to make no sound. Every step she took felt heavier than the last, burdened by the thought of what she had come to do and everything that could go wrong. freёwebnovel.com
There were too many risks. Too many ways for this to unravel.
And yet, she had come anyway. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
Her robe was clutched tightly around her as she crossed the room, her breathing shallow and uneven. Beneath the robe, she wore only her shift, the thin fabric doing little to shield her from the cool air.
Her fingers trembled as she loosened the robe and let it fall from her shoulders. It pooled at her feet.
Azul’s words still echoed in her mind. He wanted her to become his mistress after Hairan cast her aside.
The thought made her stomach turn. She had wanted so badly to refuse him outright, but defiance came with its own dangers. Returning to her parents would be no better; it would mean returning back to an existence filled with misery and abuse and a life stripped of what little autonomy she still possessed.
So she had devised another path. A desperate one.
She would remain Hairan’s wife no matter what. And if she could bear his child, it would intertwine their lives even further and make it harder for him to simply discard her.
She moved through the room, extinguishing nearly all the candles until only one remained, rapidly plunging the room into near darkness.
The bed loomed ahead, large and untouched. She slipped beneath the covers, her pulse still racing, and lay there in silence. Waiting.
She wanted Hairan to return to his chambers and find her waiting in his bed. Aside from that single, failed attempt on their wedding night, he had never sought her out, never touched her as a husband should, and she clung to the hope that tonight would be different.
No warm-blooded man, she told herself, would turn away from his wife if she laid bare before him, no matter how deeply he claimed to despise her. Affection was not required in this situation she devised. All she wanted was for him to finally take her, to seal their union as it should have been from the start, so that she might at last carry his child.
Once she became pregnant, she would be able to leverage it to remain in the marriage, and at the same time, use it as a shield against Azul’s forceful advances.
Her heart still beat wildly within her chest, each pulse loud enough that it felt as though it echoed in the quiet room. She wrestled with herself for a moment longer before she finally reached a decision.
She pulled her shift over her head and cast it aside, letting it fall to join the discarded robe on the floor. At last, she had removed the final barrier between herself and the cool air, leaving her completely bare.
A faint shiver ran through her as the soft sheets brushed against her exposed skin. She settled against the bed, though there was no real comfort to be found here, in this half-baked scheme she had been forced into because a deprived man wanted her as his plaything.
She was tired of feeling trapped, tired of being at the mercy of others. She just wanted to be free to live her life the way she desired but how could that ever be when her only way to survive was to tie herself to a man that despised her.
Time stretched endlessly until more than an hour had slipped by in silence.
Then, at last, she heard heavy footsteps just outside the door, each one sending a fresh wave of tension through her body. The handle twisted and a heartbeat later, the door creaked open. He stepped inside.
