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VII The Prophecy

Author: Wellmindelysian
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-02-06 22:12:59

King Agnil and Commander Kenaz sat in a dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the weight of their meeting.

A delicate, gemstone-encrusted tray held an assortment of sweet pastries, dried fruits, and nuts, accompanied by steaming cups of honeyed tea.

Kenaz, however, seemed impervious to the offerings, his focus solely on the proposal he had come to present.

"Agnil, our lifelong friendship emboldens me to approach you with a request," Kenaz began, his voice measured. "I seek to unite our families through the marriage of my son to your daughter, Princess Inayat."

King Agnil's gaze remained fixed on Kenaz, his expression unreadable as he sipped his tea. Yet, beneath the surface, a maelstrom of emotions churned.

His eyes gleamed with a mixture of suspicion and calculation, his mind racing with the implications of Kenaz's proposal.

A dark thought took hold, whispering that Kenaz's intentions might be far from pure, that he might be secretly plotting to usurp the throne.

Agnil's jaw cle
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  • The Rule   XXIV Silent Triumph

    The crimson flag dropped, and both horses exploded forward like lightning bolts across the earth. The ground quaked beneath their hooves, throwing dust and shards of dry grass high into the air. The roar of the crowd faded into a low hum, swallowed by the pounding of hooves and the sharp exhale of the beasts straining for dominance. For the first few strides, Ayman and Abhiman were neck and neck, their gazes locking across the length of the track. Abhiman’s jaw tightened, the sinews of his face hard with focus. He leaned low, urging his horse faster, every muscle alive with hunger for victory. Ayman, however, smirked. His dark eyes glimmered with a calm that almost mocked the storm of effort around him. He guided his horse with a loose rein, as if the race itself were nothing more than a game, a performance for his amusement. Every so often, he deliberately slowed, letting Abhiman surge ahead, only to drive his steed forward again and reclaim the lead with ease. The crowd gasped a

  • The Rule   XXIII The Last Game Played

    The games grew fiercer as the days passed, rising from tests of skill to matches edged with blood. On the third day, animals were loosed against men, and the field blazed with raw strength, agility, and hidden talents that belonged more to the battlefield than sport. The crowd roared at every clash, their voices swelling with admiration and fear alike. As always, Queen Inayat and the royals sat upon the dais, watching from their high pavilion. But today, Ayman did not descend to the field. His name was not called, and so he remained seated among them. For Aabroo, it was a secret delight. Her couch had been set beside his—whether by command or by fate, she could not tell, nor did she care. She rejoiced in the closeness, her heart quietly singing. Call her insane, but the smallest nearness made her spirit flutter. She lived on soft, fleeting joys, dreaming her love rather than naming it. She was untouched by the truth of what simmered in Ayman’s head—dark, raw, restless. Still,

  • The Rule   XXII Cruel Lullabies

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  • The Rule   XXI The Eyes

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  • The Rule   XX Crave The Forbidden

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  • The Rule   XIX A Kiss And A Curse

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