Romans & histoires I Became The Tyrant's Servant

“Master!” “You are much older than me,” Tyr replied. “You don’t have to address me as Master from now onward. Just call me by my given name.” Archie was stunned. Tyr chuckled and explained, “We just need to remember certain things in our hearts. I only asked you to be my servant because I didn’t want to make you the enemy of Regal Palace. Now that we’re on the same side, we can let go of all other frivolities.” “Okay.” Archie’s answer was straightforward. He was unwilling to surrender to Tyr in the beginning, but with that soul spell locking him in place, all plans of rebellion were doomed to never take off from the start.

“Because my brain couldn’t make up anything original. Elias. Tyrant Elias. Captive Elias. Of course the real one has the same name. Life’s hilarious like that.” He tilts his head. “Tyrant? Captive bride? What are you talking about?” I take a deep breath and it feels like my ribs complain about it. “I had this long dream. Or coma dream or whatever. You… well the dream you kidnapped me or something. Made me marry him. I got pregnant. There was school and a guy named Yuto and this girl Lauren taking pictures and Ryan whose girlfriend got killed. It was all so real. I pushed out a baby and he died and then you tried to strangle me and then a mental hospital and jumping off a bridge kissing while

His throne. But, he, for one night, felt no bitterness at all. And spent it in a soothing embrace. He smiled as he recalled it, knowing it might’ve been the only occasion. Emilia noticed it and gave a soft sigh in return. She knew things had to be done when she came here, but she didn’t expect this much. Another task appeared on the list. Have the fake fairy fall in love with the Tyrant Emperor. Alexis had bathed and ate her breakfast slowly, not feeling rushed at the usual sight of Hector in the garden which obviously wasn’t a thing anymore. She didn’t know when her lessons with Emilia might start, but she knew she had some free time before then.

He walked over to the window and exhaled deeply. "Were you intending to sacrifice me?" I asked, gathering my courage. "Listen, I told you to be quiet and do as I say. Remember, you are nothing but my slave!" "What kind of king are you to make me your Luna, condemned to the same fate as the last one? You're a tyrant!" I shouted. I didn't care if he tore me apart in his rage. A quicker death might be better than being haunted by a curse. "I won't be your next victim!"

Kilian stepped in front of me. “She does not speak english. IShe is my new servant. Dad, you can not have her. You bought her for me!” The word hit me hard. Servant! Was he telling his dad I was his servant? Would his father take me now that the truth was out. “Lyra?” Dragan’s face turns to regrat.

I looked at them for a moment and then felt bad for them. Bound by fear and obligation to a tyrant who governed with an iron hand, they were as much hostages as I was. "Good morning," I whispered softly, my voice inappropriate in the busy kitchen. A woman with greying hair and worn eyes, one of the elder servants glanced up at me just before going back to work. She said, "Good morning, Miss," her tone pleasant but detached. I approached with a little smile. "Is there anything I might assist with?" The woman stared at me startled, her hands stopping in their work. "Help: Not quite, Miss. You save yourself from problems by not doing.

"Today we took it back!" "Yes, Yes." "We took it back." "They couldn't stand a chance against our King. He slit the throat of the Tyrant and killed the people that tormented us. He killed our killers and he'll live a happy life. Long live the King!" The first man yelled, and the others soon joined him. "Long live the King." "And then he stopped with his hand gestures and he sighed. "From this day forward, I King take Princess La Reine as my Slave." TBC

The owl was gone. I walked towards the window and looked at the kingdom below. It was peaceful. Too peaceful. How could people laugh beneath the rule of a tyrant. Were they blind? Or was I? Nothing made sense. “It doesn’t matter,” I murmured to myself. “I’ll kill him anyways.” As if it was as easy as I said it. He was stronger. Smart. Always three steps ahead. If I wanted to defeat him, I had to go down to his pathetic level.

“Little Hope. Always the victim, always needing rescuing. Oh I’m so sad about my mother. Until Ryan came on the scene. Oh I’m so sad about my mate leaving me, and there’s Cal! You’re pathetic.!” Mistaking my shocked face for distress, the sting of her hatred burnt painfully. “Well, I’ve ended up with absolutely nothing. Just like you!” “We are not the same. You were always nothing,” she spat, “You’re the child of nobodies. A psychotic Beta and a rankless mother. You know the only reason you’re not dead right now?” “Why?” “Because I promised your precious Papa that his allegiance would keep you alive. So this fortress is mine, and you get to be my first servant!”

I could tell he still did not believe me, yet I played on with the game of a very weak, carefree servant. "Emily?" he repeated in his questioning tone. "I wasn't informed that I've hired new help." I shrugged, trying to appear almost apathetic. "I'm new, sir. I came today." His eyes remained fixed, trained on mine—expressionless. I felt him trying to decipher the questions, but I decided not to give it away. At least not yet. The urge to laugh began to build, and I tried so hard to press it out so that nothing showed on my face. "I—I don't know what you mean, sir," I stuttered, trying to play some confusion.