Have I found it?
Love.
But something's off.
This doesn't feel right.
I always thought love was supposed to be honest.
Not whatever this is.
Not whatever she's trying to sell me.
If this is love, I don't want it.
Tick!
The clock on the wall snaps at me again.
Each click feels like it's counting down to something I can't stop.
Like it knows I'm about to cross a line I won't be able to walk back from.
And my hand…
God. My hand is somewhere only love is supposed to reach.
But my mind keeps fighting it.
Shoving the feeling away.
Refusing to swallow this as love.
Tick!
Sweat drips down my forehead.
Slides past my brow.
Pools on my lashes until the room blurs at the edges.
Love.
I shouldn't feel this sick.
I shouldn't feel this torn open.
Was this how Dad felt when he loved Mom?
Did his heart twist like this?
Did his stomach drop?
Did he feel trapped inside someone else's idea of affection?
Because if this is what love is supposed to look like…
If this is the price…
Count me out.
Tick!
Fuck...
I don't want any of this.
"..."
"Arthur."
She said my name like she finally owned it.
Her smirk deepened, and something cold slid into her eyes.
"You did well today."
My stomach twisted. I didn't know if she meant the touching, the obeying, or the breaking.
"How long has it been since a man touched me?"
She laughed softly, almost to herself.
"Of course you wouldn't know."
Her fingers trailed across her own skin, slow and deliberate, like she was savoring the moment.
"But the truth…"
She stepped closer until her breath brushed against my cheek.
"You're nothing but a butler."
That was it—
A reminder of what I was.
A reminder of what this wasn't.
"I will never let someone like you…"
She paused, letting the silence stretch, letting it hurt.
"…believe you were anything more than a pawn."
I wasn't the pawn.
Arthur was.
But now, I was Arthur.
She leaned in, whispering like she was sharing a secret I should've known from the start.
"The King has grown bored, Arthur; he barely looks at me anymore, so I needed someone else—someone he'd see, someone he'd suspect, someone disposable."
Her hand brushed my cheek again, but this time it felt sharp.
"If he thinks other men are reaching for me, he'll remember why I mattered; he'll guard me again, cherish me again, and fight for me again."
Her smile twisted. "And you? You were perfect: pretty, loyal, and easy."
My throat tightened.
"Mara—"
Before I could finish, she inhaled sharply, eyes widening with practiced fear.
"Guards!"
Her voice cut through the room like a blade.
"GUARDS!"
"HELP ME!"
The doorknob behind me rattled.
Bootsteps thundered down the hall.
Shouts flared.
She staggered back, pulling the blanket tight around her body, suddenly looking like a damsel instead of the predator she'd been seconds before.
"Arthur tried to force himself on me!"
Her voice trembled just enough to sound real.
My hands went cold.
This…
This was the real moment.
Arthur was betrayed.
I was betrayed by my own judgement.
And as the door slammed open and armored men rushed in, spears raised, I realized something simple and brutal,
She never wanted love.
She wanted an excuse.
And I had just given her one.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I quickly assessed the situation. I knew I didn't do anything, I never touched her, I never even leaned close enough to breathe the same air. But none of that mattered, because in a place like this, a queen's word weighs more than a butler's entire existence.
I kept staring at my palm, the same palm she grabbed.
It was cold.
Empty.
For a second, I'd almost let myself believe it.
That feeling.
That maybe this was love.
I knew it wasn't.
But something in me wanted it to be.
I wanted one clean win in this world.
One small victory.
Something.
But that didn't matter anymore.
The guards stormed in.
Three… no, four.
All armed.
All ready to put me on the floor before I could explain anything.
Is this my moment?
The turning point?
The part where my path splits for good?
I shook my head hard, dragging myself back to the present.
Arthur, one of the guards called, "What's the meaning of this?"
Another stepped forward, "Why are you in her majesty's chambers while the queen was naked?"
The queen didn't even hesitate.
"What are you standing there for? Arrest him immediately."
"..."
After staying silent for a while, something inside began to snap clean in half.
"What the fuck are you even saying?" I said.
Then,
The room froze for a second.
The guards didn't move.
I didn't move.
Only the queen did.
She lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing like I'd offended her by breathing.
"You dare raise your voice at me?" she said.
Without wasting a second, I countered.
"You set me up," I said. "Don't act shocked now."
She giggled, like I had said something funny, even though I never intended to do so.
"Set you up?"
"Arthur, I don't need to set up a butler."
"You grabbed my hand," I said. "You told me to come closer. You—"
She cut me off with a sharp laugh.
"A butler claiming the queen touched him?"
She shook her head like she pitied me.
"How desperate are you?"
The allegations pilled up, I knew this was inevitable, the way she had been looking at me, at Arthur, for the past two weeks, I saw this coming, but still—
None of this happened in the novel.
At least the thirty chapters I read.
The queen was meant to have a peaceful affair with her lover, letting the king drown in his own misery, but it seems I was wrong, the story has passed the chapters I read.
"Mara," I said quietly. "Don't do this."
Then, a guard drew his sword, aiming it's at my neck, the tip just centimetres away from touching.
"How dare you call her majesty that," he said. "You will refer to her majesty properly."
I just stared at her, as I wasn't angry, not shocked either, but just done.
"So that was it," I said. "I was bait."
"Exactly."
Then,
I stepped forward one inch, not enough to provoke the guards, but enough for her to know I wasn't scared.
"You could've chosen anyone," I said.
Any maid.
Any noble.
Any knight.
She leaned slightly to the side, letting the blankets fall enough to show bare skin, like she was reminding everyone who held the power here.
Then,
Something in me began to stir up as my hands clenched to a fist.
An emotion, though it didn't belong to me, stirred within, not of my own betrayal—as I never loved the Queen and barely knew her—but a sense of being deceived by the feeling I'd experienced.
This emotion was the remnant of Arthur's soul; he had loved the Queen, but she betrayed him, and his emotions were mixing with mine, fueling a desire for revenge as her smirk was killing him on the inside.
"Guards," she said calmly. "Take him."
I slowly raised my hands, palms up, showing I wasn't fighting. One guard grabbed my arm while another reached for rope. In that moment, I learned a mistake I can never repeat: this wasn't love, and yet, this wasn't the end.
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[A/N:]Now we are getting started. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, from the tags and synopsis you will know that revenge is an important theme in this story. and of course our MC doesn't feel betrayed by the queen, but Arthur does, as he had feelings for her, but then again Arthur soul remnants began to mix with our MC soul, causing the him to now have a desire for revenge.
Anything you find confusing or hate please comment it so I can make changes