The Human beneath his crown

Umbrakens were the beings that treated us like pests.

They had no conscience. No heart. No mercy.

At least, that was what we humans told ourselves whenever another one of us disappeared.

We lived because they allowed us to.

We worked because they ordered us to.

And we survived because, somehow, we had learned that obedience was usually less painful than resistance.

Every human in Veyra knew better than to go anywhere near the palace of Kael Veyran.

Not only because he was the ruler of the Umbrakens.

Because even they feared him.

Kael Veyran was said to be something far worse than powerful.

He was the kind of creature other monsters lowered their voices around.

Only male humans who survived the Umbraken training were permitted near his palace to serve as guards, messengers, or personal attendants.

And women?

Hmph.

Women were considered pests.

Useful when convenient.

Disposable when not.

Which was exactly why I had spent most of my life making myself invisible.

I was apparently very good at it.

Especially in the palace gardens.

Flowers didn't ask questions.

Flowers didn't threaten me.

Flowers didn't decide whether I deserved to live.

So I preferred them.

Unfortunately, that morning, someone had decided otherwise.

"Hey!"

The sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked over my shoulder.

A female Umbraken stood several feet away, watching me with an expression that suggested my existence had personally offended her.

Her name was Vaelira.

At least, that was what the other servants called her.

She had silver-black eyes, long dark hair braided tightly down her back, and the unnerving stillness all Umbrakens seemed to possess.

"Follow the others."

I frowned.

"The others?"

She pointed toward a group of female servants being herded toward the eastern road.

"Follow them."

"Where?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"To the palace."

My stomach dropped.

"What?"

The word escaped before I could stop it.

Vaelira's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"The palace is short of female guards."

I stared at her.

"Guards?"

"We are supplying them with eighteen female humans."

My blood went cold.

I looked at the women ahead.

Some were crying.

Others walked with their heads lowered.

One woman was trembling so badly that another had to hold her arm.

I took one step backward.

Vaelira noticed.

"Don't."

I froze.

She approached me.

"You have been working in the garden long enough. Perhaps His Majesty has decided to make better use of you."

His Majesty.

The words alone made my chest tighten.

I glanced toward the distant palace.

Its black towers disappeared into a sky covered by thick gray clouds.

"No."

Vaelira's smile vanished.

"What did you say?"

"I said no."

Her eyes darkened.

For one terrible second, I thought she would strike me.

Instead, she laughed.

"Humans are always so amusing when they forget what they are."

Then she turned.

"Move."

I didn't.

She took three steps.

That was all the opportunity I needed.

I ran.

I didn't think.

I didn't plan.

I simply ran.

Through the garden.

Past the stone wall.

Between two enormous trees.

I heard shouting behind me.

"Catch her!"

I ran faster.

Branches scratched my arms. My shoes slipped against damp earth, but I refused to slow down.

The palace wasn't the only dangerous place in Veyra.

I knew that.

But at that moment, anywhere was better than being taken there.

I pushed through a curtain of hanging vines and stumbled into a narrow passage between the trees.

Silence.

I stopped.

No footsteps.

No shouting.

Nothing.

I breathed heavily and looked around.

I had never been here before.

That was strange.

I knew the palace grounds almost as well as I knew my own hands.

Yet this place didn't belong to any part of the gardens I knew.

Tall black trees surrounded me.

Their branches twisted together overhead, blocking the sky.

At the center of the clearing stood an enormous stone arch covered in strange symbols.

I took a cautious step toward it.

Something whispered.

I stopped.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

Then—

Run.

I spun around.

Nobody was there.

My heart hammered.

The whisper came again.

Run.

This time, the ground beneath my feet trembled.

The symbols carved into the stone began to glow faintly.

I stumbled backward.

"What is this?"

A sudden wind rushed through the clearing.

The arch cracked.

I gasped.

Then something moved behind me.

I turned—

—and collided with someone.

Hard.

I fell backward.

Before I could scream, a hand closed around my wrist.

Cold.

Not ordinary cold.

It felt as though winter itself had wrapped around my skin.

I looked up.

And forgot how to breathe.

The man standing over me was unlike anyone I had ever seen.

He was tall—unnaturally tall—with broad shoulders beneath a black coat that seemed almost to blend into the darkness around him.

His hair was black, thick, and slightly disheveled, falling over his forehead.

His skin was unnaturally pale.

Not sickly.

Beautiful.

Dangerously beautiful.

But it was his eyes that frightened me.

Dark gray.

Almost silver around the edges.

They stared down at me with absolutely no emotion.

No anger.

No surprise.

Nothing.

Like I was an insect that had landed on his hand.

"Let go of me," I snapped.

He didn't.

I twisted my wrist.

His fingers tightened.

"You're hurting me."

Nothing.

I glared at him.

"Did you hear me?"

His gaze moved slowly over my face.

Then down to my trembling hand.

Still nothing.

I reached for the small gardening knife hidden inside my boot.

The moment I pulled it free, his eyes finally changed.

Not fear.

Interest.

I swung.

He caught my wrist before the blade reached him.

With one effortless movement, he twisted my arm behind my back.

The knife dropped.

"Ow!"

He released me.

I stumbled forward, clutching my wrist.

"You could have broken it!"

He simply stared.

"Are you deaf?"

Silence.

I pointed at him.

"Who are you?"

Nothing.

"Why are you here?"

Nothing.

"Fine."

I backed away.

"Then stay away from me."

I turned.

A drop of dark liquid fell onto the ground.

I stopped.

Looked down.

Then back at him.

Blood.

My eyes widened.

"You’re injured."

His expression didn't change.

He had one hand pressed against his side.

There was a tear in his black coat.

Blood seeped through the fabric.

"You should have said something."

His eyebrow lifted slightly.

It was the first reaction I'd gotten from him.

I crouched.

"Sit."

He stared at me.

I stared back.

"You're bleeding."

He remained standing.

"Do you always ignore people when they're trying to help you?"

Nothing.

I sighed.

"Fine. Collapse, then. See if I care."

He slowly sat against the stone arch.

I opened the small pouch I carried for the garden workers.

Clean cloth.

Herbal paste.

A few strips of linen.

Nothing impressive.

But it was enough.

I knelt beside him.

He watched every movement.

His gaze was so cold that my fingers began to shake.

"What happened?"

No answer.

"Of course."

I carefully moved the torn fabric aside.

The wound was deeper than I'd expected.

I swallowed.

"You need a healer."

His eyes narrowed.

"Apparently, you don't like speaking."

Still nothing.

I cleaned the wound.

He didn't flinch.

Not once.

I pressed the cloth against it.

His jaw tightened.

That was it.

"You felt that."

His eyes met mine.

I smiled faintly.

"Good. You're alive."

His expression remained completely blank.

I wrapped the linen around his waist.

"There."

I sat back.

"You should rest."

His eyes remained fixed on me.

"What?"

He finally spoke.

"Return."

His voice was deep.

Cold.

Quiet enough that I almost thought the wind had spoken.

I frowned.

"Return where?"

"The place you escaped from."

My stomach twisted.

"No."

His eyes hardened.

"You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly."

"No."

He looked toward the dark trees.

"They will find you."

"I'd rather they find me than go to that palace."

For the first time, something flickered in his expression.

Not sympathy.

Something colder.

Almost amusement.

"You fear the palace."

"Everyone does."

"Not everyone."

I looked at him.

"You're not human."

His silence answered for him.

I slowly stood.

"You're an Umbraken."

He didn't deny it.

Fear crawled up my spine.

I should have run.

Instead, I found myself staring at him.

There was something strange about him.

Something that didn't fit.

He could have hurt me.

He could have killed me.

Yet he hadn't.

"What's your name?"

His expression became unreadable.

"Return."

"That's not a name."

His eyes narrowed.

I took one step backward.

Then another.

"Fine."

I turned.

I had barely taken three steps when his voice stopped me.

I froze.

The world suddenly tilted.

The trees blurred.

The clearing vanished.

And then—

I was standing in the palace.

I gasped.

A bucket was in my hand.

A mop lay beside my feet.

I stared at the enormous black marble floor beneath me.

My mouth fell open.

"No."

A group of female servants walked past.

None of them looked surprised to see me.

One glanced at the bucket.

"You're late."

I looked down.

I was wearing a palace servant uniform.

"What happened?"

She frowned.

"Are you feeling ill?"

I looked around wildly.

The corridor stretched endlessly in both directions.

Black pillars.

Silver chandeliers.

Dark windows.

And at the far end—

two enormous doors.

The doors of the palace throne hall.

My blood ran cold.

I dropped the bucket.

It clattered against the marble.

A voice came from behind me.

"Pick it up."

I turned.

Vaelira.

She stood there with a satisfied smile.

"You wanted to escape."

I stared at her.

She stepped closer.

"Now you can serve inside."

My gaze dropped to the mop.

Then to the palace doors.

Then back to her.

"What am I supposed to do?"

Vaelira smiled.

"Mop the floors."

I almost laughed.

Of all the things I had feared...

I had escaped into forbidden territory, encountered an impossible stranger, treated an injured Umbraken

only to be returned to the palace.

And now I was mopping floors for the very creatures I despised.

I picked up the mop.

But as I dragged it across the black marble, one thought refused to leave my mind.

But somehow, I had the terrible feeling that I had just met the one person in this palace I should have feared most.