Zabina
Two weeks have passed.
I'm still in Abisai's chambers as if I belong here. I sleep in his bed, bathe in his tub, breathe in his scent in every corner.
At night, he makes me feel special… his.
He touches me like the world might end if he stops. He kisses me like he wants to drink my soul. He whispers things that melt me to the bone.
But I fear I've fallen too fast for the deadliest dragon in this kingdom.
And I know… he'll never truly be mine.
Because I'm just the concubine. And when he loses interest, when he marries that woman and the throne demands a real empress, I… I don't know if I should leave.
But the worst part is that I don't want to.
That man's marks are tattooed on my skin. On my neck, on my thighs, on my heart.
I sit at the table. Stema left me plenty of my favorite foods: freshly baked bread, soft cheese, candied fruit, and that spiced paste I love so much. I don't know if I should wait for him or just eat. My stomach growls loudly, so I take a piece of bread and bring it to my mouth.
The door opens.
Abisai walks in. He smiles when he sees me and approaches without taking his eyes off me, that possessive gaze that makes me feel naked even when I'm dressed.
"Weren't you going to wait for me?" he asks, amused.
"You were taking too long," I reply, swallowing my bite.
He undoes a couple of buttons on his black jacket and settles across from me. He takes a slice of bread, spreads the paste on it, and brings it to his mouth slowly.
"Zabina," he says after swallowing, "I can't keep you in my chambers all day anymore."
I expected this. Stema had mentioned that the mourning period for his brother Agur was ending. Abisai will be named emperor and marry Bamylan.
I know.
I've known since the beginning.
My eyes meet his.
"Are you sending me away from Anwar?" I ask quietly.
He doesn't answer right away. The question seems to bother him. His brow furrows slightly.
"No," he finally says. "I'll send you to the women's palace. You'll have your own chambers, your own servants, everything you need."
A knot forms in my stomach.
"How should I address you when you're emperor?"
He looks at me without saying a word. Then he lets out a laugh, that charming quirk of his mouth.
"Everything will stay the same, Zabina. The only difference is that you'll have your own space. You'll be able to move more freely within the palace."
"And if you get tired of me?" I whisper, leaning over the table.
Abisai stops eating. He stares at me with that intensity that burns me from the inside.
"That will never happen," he replies.
"How can you be so sure?" I press. "I'm just a concubine. One among many in a kingdom full of women who could give you everything I can't."
I know it.
Now I sound like a foolish, insecure girl begging for attention.
He stands slowly, walks around the table, and stops beside me. He takes my chin gently and forces me to look at him.
"Because none of them interest me the way you do," he murmurs. "None of them make me feel what you make me feel. None of them are you, Zabina. And I don't want anyone else."
I lower my gaze, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.
"Then… why do I have to go somewhere else?"
"Because the court is already talking," he answers. "Because… soon I'll be emperor, and I can't keep hiding you like some shameful secret. I'll give you your own space… I want you to feel at home in my castle. You'll still be mine. Every night. Every time I desire you. That won't change."
He caresses my cheek with his thumb and leans in to kiss my forehead.
"Trust me."
I close my eyes and let myself lean into him for a moment.
But deep down, a small, terrified voice keeps whispering the same question:
For how long?
My new chambers are… beautiful.
I never imagined having so much.
The walls are made of light stone with silver veins. Heavy silk curtains fall to the floor, and the bed is so large I could get lost in it. There's a dark, intricately carved wooden vanity, a tall mirror, and a private balcony overlooking the inner gardens of the women's palace.
Stema opens the balcony doors to let in the cool evening breeze.
I flop onto the bed, my gaze lost in some undefined point on the ceiling.
"Don't you like it?" Stema asks softly.
I smile.
"It's not that… it's just too much for me."
Stema sits on the edge of the bed.
"I'll tell you a secret," she lowers her voice as if someone might hear us. "These chambers are on the same level as Miss Bamylan's. The other concubines are dying of envy. They're all talking about you. They say the prince has never given so much to any woman."
I stand and walk over to the mirror above the dresser.
The reflection shows me an image I barely recognize: a young woman with a royal protection tiara, dressed in fine fabrics.
"Later, I'll introduce you to your maids…" Stema continues, talking about fabrics, colors, perfumed baths, and schedules.
I look at her through the mirror's reflection. She's telling me so many things I can't keep up.
When I look back at myself, I see my mother's reflection.
The white hair. The same gray eyes, full of desperation. I take a step back, my heart in my throat, as if I've just been struck.
"What color do you like best?" Stema asks, oblivious to my reaction.
I have no idea what she's talking about.
"You choose," I murmur.
She smiles warmly.
"Alright. You'll see how beautiful everything turns out."
I look back at my reflection, this time with a bitter taste in my mouth.
I'm an impostor.
"Zabina, wake up."
I open my eyes, still half-asleep. My father presses a finger to his lips, signaling absolute silence.
"We have to go. Now."
My heart races. I get up quickly, stumbling over the blankets, and put on my shoes.
"Where are we going, Papa?"
"To the Jurdiena Forest, child. Be quiet."
We leave the village in the middle of the night. The street is deserted, lit only by the torch my father holds firmly. Our footsteps sound too loud in the silence.
Suddenly, we hear distant hoofbeats. Horses. Many of them.
My father pushes me into a dark, damp alley.
"Don't move," he whispers. "I'll go check if it's safe."
I stay alone, pressed against the cold, wet wall. I pull out the small dagger I always keep hidden and grip it tightly.
I feel a presence behind me.
I spin around quickly.
It's a young man. Tall, with dark hair and eyes that glow with a vivid hue. A black dragon.
"Calm down," he says, raising his hands, palms open. "I only want to help you and your father."
"You're lying," I growl, not lowering my weapon.
He keeps his hands up, but a smile curves his lips.
"Not entirely. Your gem is of royal blood."
I attack without thinking.
He dodges easily, almost amused.
"Easy," he says, his voice low and smooth. "I'll tell you something important: never trust a black dragon. White dragons can destroy Galgoth or open it. You're of royal blood."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I reply.
"Of course you do. It's impossible you don't know about the silver demons."
My chest tightens, and I growl.
"They can't escape Galgoth."
"Not yet. But they will. Because no gem is powerful enough to seal the path forever."
"Sure. You kill off an entire race, and in the end, the demons will break free and enslave you all," I mutter, not lowering my guard.
"Maybe. But your gem is powerful," he looks at my chest, then back into my eyes. "Run with your father. I'll buy you time…"
I jolt awake at the sound of murmurs outside.
I carefully peek into the hallway. A group of women is gathered around a tall, dark-haired man with an arrogant bearing. They whisper excitedly.
Stema stops beside me, silent.
"Who is that?" I ask quietly.
"It's Higmer. The prince's cousin. He's returned to the castle."
My eyes meet the man's.
It's him.
The same young man from the alley that night.
A slow smile spreads across his face as he recognizes me. His lips move without making a sound, but I read them perfectly:
"I found you."
Shit.
I go back into my room and close the door, my heart pounding. I lean against the wood, breathing hard.
Stema follows me, concerned.
"Are you alright, miss?"
I don't answer. I can only think of that night, the dagger in my hand, his words:
"Never trust a black dragon."
And now that same black dragon is here, in the palace, looking at me like I'm a trophy he's finally reclaimed.
I close my eyes and bring a hand to my chest, where the gem pulses strongly, as if it recognizes him too.
The past has just walked through the front door.
And this time, there's no alley to hide in.