Chapter 1-The Ruthless King
Chapter 1- THE RUTHLESS KING.
The night was quiet within the king’s private chambers. Only the soft crackling of the fire disturbed the silence. King Arin sat against the headboard, his expression calm and unreadable. At forty-two, he possessed the kind of presence that commanded attention without effort. His sharp features and cold, dark eyes gave him an intimidating beauty, one that had become familiar throughout the kingdom. Beside him rested one of his wives, both of them enjoying a private moment that Arin expected no one to interrupt.
That expectation lasted only until the chamber doors were suddenly struck with a hurried knock.
“Your Majesty!”
The door opened before Arin could give permission. A servant rushed inside and immediately dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.
Arin’s expression darkened. He hated being disturbed, especially during his private time. “You have five seconds to explain why you interrupted me.”
The servant swallowed nervously. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. There has been an emergency.”
“What emergency?”
The servant hesitated before lowering his head. “One of Your Majesty’s wives has... miscarried.”
Arin’s expression barely changed. “Which one?”
“The fourth queen, Your Majesty.”
Arin’s jaw tightened. He rose from the bed without another word. “Take me there.”
By the time Arin arrived at the fourth queen’s chambers, several people had already gathered. His other wives were there, their faces filled with worry, while quiet sobs echoed through the room. The fourth queen lay pale against the pillows, tears running silently down her cheeks. A physician stood beside her with his head lowered.
Arin entered, and the room immediately fell silent.
His gaze moved across the chamber before settling on his fourth wife. “What happened?”
The physician bowed deeply. “Your Majesty, the pregnancy could not be saved.”
Arin looked at the woman on the bed. She had been carrying his child, yet the first emotion he felt was not grief. It was disappointment.
“My King...” she whispered through her tears.
“How?” Arin asked coldly.
“I... I don’t know. I tried to protect the child. I—”
“You failed.”
The words fell into the room like a blade.
The woman covered her mouth, and a fresh wave of tears escaped her eyes. One of the other queens looked away while another began crying quietly. Arin watched them with growing irritation.
“What is all this?” he asked.
No one answered.
“Why are you crying?”
His first wife finally gathered enough courage to speak. “Your Majesty, she has just lost her child.”
“And?”
The room went still.
Arin looked toward the fourth queen. “Giving birth is a woman’s duty. If you could not even do that, what exactly am I supposed to mourn?”
His first wife’s face tightened. “Your Majesty...”
Arin’s patience was disappearing. “My time is valuable. Stop this crying.”
The women fell silent, though the fourth queen could not stop her tears.
“I already have many sons,” Arin continued. “If I need more, I can have more in the future. One womb does not determine my future.”
His fourth wife turned her face away, silently weeping into her pillow.
Arin watched her for a moment before turning toward the door. “Enough of this.”
He left without another word.
No one dared to stop him.
King Arin was not a foolish ruler. That was perhaps what made his cruelty more dangerous. He was intelligent, calculating, and remarkably capable. He understood politics, war, trade, and human weakness better than most of the men who served him.
Under his rule, Avarin had prospered. Its treasury had grown, its armies had become stronger, and its borders had expanded. Merchants from distant lands came to trade within its cities, while neighboring rulers thought carefully before challenging his authority.
Arin had won battle after battle. He had crushed rebellions and forced enemies to kneel before him. His soldiers respected his strength, his ministers feared his judgment, and his enemies knew better than to underestimate him.
But Arin had never learned mercy.
To him, strength was everything. Power, authority, control, and the ability to make others obey were the qualities he valued. Compassion was weakness, and weakness was something he could not tolerate—not in himself and certainly not in others.
Women were no exception.
Arin believed a woman’s duty was simple. She obeyed her husband, bore his children, maintained his household, and never questioned his decisions. His several wives had learned that challenging him only brought trouble.
One afternoon, a case was brought before the royal court.
A young woman stood trembling before the throne. Her cheek was bruised, and a dark mark surrounded one of her eyes. Her husband stood several steps away, looking more irritated than ashamed.
“Your Majesty,” she pleaded, kneeling before the throne, “please help me.”
Arin rested his cheek against one hand. “Why did your husband beat you?”
The woman stared at him in disbelief. “Because... because he was angry.”
“Why was he angry?”
“I don’t know.”
Arin’s gaze hardened. “You don’t know?”
The woman lowered her head. “I only asked him not to spend our money on gambling.”
Her husband immediately spoke. “She has always been disobedient, Your Majesty.”
Arin looked at him, then back at the woman.
“Perhaps that is the problem.”
Her eyes widened. “Your Majesty?”
“A wife should know how to behave with her husband.”
“But he hurt me.”
Arin leaned back against his throne. “And what did you do to provoke him?”
The woman fell silent. The court became deathly quiet.
Arin dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand. “This is not a matter for the royal court. You should have listened to your husband.”
The woman stared at him as tears gathered in her eyes.
“Your Majesty, please...”
“Take her away.”
The guards stepped forward and led her from the court. Arin did not watch her leave. To him, the matter was already finished.
Days turned into weeks, and then one morning, news arrived that Arin’s second wife had given birth. The king entered her chambers expecting to hear that another son had been born.
Instead, the physician bowed deeply.
“Your Majesty, the child is healthy.”
Arin’s eyes moved toward the bed. “And?”
The physician hesitated.
“A daughter.”
Silence filled the room.
Arin’s expression hardened. “A daughter?”
His second wife held the newborn carefully against her chest. Despite her exhaustion, a small smile appeared on her face.
“She is beautiful, Your Majesty.”
Arin barely looked at the baby.
His first wife, who was standing nearby, noticed his displeasure. “Your Majesty, she is still your child.”
Arin looked at her. “I already have sons.”
“But she carries your blood.”
“So?”
His first wife didn’t lower her gaze. “She is not a failure simply because she is a girl.”
The room fell silent.
Arin’s eyes became cold. “You are questioning me?”
“No, Your Majesty. I am only—”
“Enough.”
His voice cut through her words.
“I have no use for arguments over something so insignificant.”
The newborn began to cry, and her mother immediately held her closer. Arin glanced at the tiny child for a moment, but there was no warmth in his eyes.
Then he turned away.
“I have more important matters to attend to.”
He walked out.
That evening, rain poured over the kingdom. Arin stood alone on the balcony of his chambers, watching the storm consume the sky. Wind swept across the palace grounds, carrying the cold scent of rain. Far below, the lights of Avarin flickered through the darkness.
His kingdom.
His power.
His legacy.
Everything he had built belonged to him.
Arin had never questioned his choices. Why would he? He was the king. He had survived wars, defeated men who wanted his throne, and made powerful enemies kneel before him. He had never feared soldiers, rival kings, or even death itself.
A distant rumble of thunder rolled across the sky.
Arin lifted his head.
Another flash illuminated the clouds.
For one brief moment, the entire kingdom beneath him appeared almost white.
Then a violent crack tore through the heavens.
Lightning struck the palace.
Arin’s eyes widened.
His body jolted.
There was no time to react. No time to call for his guards. No time to understand what was happening.
The thunder swallowed the palace.
The world disappeared into white.
And then...
everything went blank and silent....
