All Chapters of ROYAL BLOOD: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Today was going to be different; any other day nothing would have made no difference, but today definitely was.Ever since Ragaleon had made her a member of the council, it had been the same pattern.Going to the council meeting, fighting the will not to feel inferior among a bunch of men who carried themselves like some kind of demigod.But she had other things planned for today.When her handmaid, Rosa, had come to summon her, Racheal was already dressed and ready to attend the council meeting.Although she was not herself. She was like a hollow vessel emptied by grief and loss, constantly reminded of the sacrifices she had made just to feel a fleeting sense of safety.And now, as she walked toward the courtroom with the unwavering resolve of a hardened warrior, she didn't care any less about what those men had installed for her today.She moved like the princesses of Samaria, like the queen of Decreash, like the ruler she truly was, born to command, to endure, and to face whatever

Decreash imperial Palace Day after day, strength crept back into his body.William no longer woke up with aches in his bones clinging as fiercely as before. The bitter herbs the grand maester pressed to his lips left his tongue numb and his stomach warm, and with each dose, his body answered in small but telling ways.He could sit longer, breathe deeper, and when he finally stood, his legs held. Whatever the herbs were, they worked their quiet miracles, invigorating life back into him.Johanna had come to visit from time to time, but he never so much as looked at her.Still, most of the time William found himself reminiscing over the things she had said to him about the queen dowager.Having been long since he had wandered freely, he was bent on letting his legs carry him through the winding halls of the castle, testing their strength with each step.He stepped out of his chamber when it was nightfall, his hands clasped behind his back, chest set forward, and chin lifted. There wa

Hamstung: Slaver's Bay Today was different. It felt like every other morning, quiet, pale light slipping through the curtains, the air still heavy with dew, the noise of distant birds chirping—except this time, Joya's body didn't ache.There was no dull reminder between her legs, no lingering soreness to tell her she had not been alone the night before.Because she had been.He did not come. Not once. Not to check on her, not to ask how she was faring, not even to pretend to be concerned, and so she woke up with an empty space beside her for the third time in a row.It got to a point that her face grew sour and her smile fraught, and this did not go unnoticed by her house help, Irene, who had chosen to keep it to herself previously but now reconsidered.“You know, if you frown too much, it will give you wrinkles.”A voice came from behind Joya, who was seated in front of the dressing mirror, her eyes still, staring back at her own reflection.“Irene."She called out, a bit surprised;

The black iron gates groaned as they swung open, the metallic echo rolling across the courtyard.Through the gates, the castle sprawled ahead, its walls towering, its windows glowing faintly with torchlight.Joya's eyes slowly lifted her gaze, catching the pale moonlight and reflecting it like twin fragments of the night sky.Her lips moved almost imperceptibly, forming words that sounded like a prayer.Just staring at the castle stirred memories, painful ones, echoes of a self she had once hated, a version of herself trapped months ago in fear and uncertainty.With a quiet resolve, she adjusted her hijab, wrapping it around her nose once more like a mask, concealing the flicker of emotion that had crossed her face. Prator alighted from his camel and helped Joya dismount gracefully from hers.The camels were led away to be given water before being guided to rest.They were welcomed by maids in service and were received warmly.The maids led them through polished corridors and archway

As Joya moved through the dungeon, hands pinned behind her back, her breath was a bit erratic.She was yet to recover from what was happening; her thoughts were disoriented. She wished she could just wake up and find out this was a bad dream, but things were as real as they seemed.The air grew sour with every step, damp with the sting invading her nostrils, pressing down into her lungs.It was the kind of smell that clung, that refused to leave once it touched you.From behind iron bars, faces watched her.Prisoners lay slumped or stood gripping the metal, their features dull and swollen, skin pale and mottled from the suffering they had endured.Some had hollow eyes that followed her in silence; others stared without seeing; their eyes were too weak to make out what was happening.Chains clinked softly as she passed each cell.Even in the face of it all, she stood unfazed, cold blue eyes fixed straight ahead."Walk faster!"The guard shoved her forward. The sudden force broke her st