Rosalind's fingers curled slightly at her sides as her mind raced through every word she had said, every insult and every careless remark. She had called him a disgrace. She said he deserved to be removed, and she had also mocked his appearance, all right in front of him, foolishly.
Her throat went dry as her heart continued to thump violently. Now, hadn't she thrown herself into the lion's den? There was no way she was going to escape the royal axe around her neck. He would definitely put her out for everyone to see and chop her head off as it rolled, warning them that anyone who insulted him would face the same fate.
After all, he was a tyrant, and he could do anything.
Slowly, Rosalind's gaze lifted back to his face.
He was still looking at her. He didn't seem angry or offended,instead, he watched her with eyes that held a trace of amusement, and it left her confused.
Shouldn't he order his guards to seize her by now? But it seemed like he was waiting, as if he wanted to see what she would do next, and that made the situation far worse.
"You wouldn't bow to your king?" he inquired, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly, and she swallowed hard.
Her father's hand pressed harder against her arm. "Bow," he muttered through clenched teeth. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for having such a daughter. Who knew what was going through the king's mind now? He might order the arrest of their entire family because Rosalind refused to bow.
But Rosalind couldn't move. She was still too shocked by what had just happened. She couldn't think properly. To realize that she had rambled in front of the very king she never wanted to meet. All she could feel was the heat crawling up her neck and the weight of his gaze pinning her in place.
She finally gathered herself and lowered her head. "Your Majesty." She curtsied just as she had been taught, and the viscount let out a breath of relief.
Alaric, on the other hand, had a faint smirk on his lips, his head held high like he ruled the entire world as he watched the woman bow before him. Rosalind looked every bit like a noblewoman, it was just that she didn't behave like a compliant one.
"Lift your heads," Alaric commanded, and everyone straightened, including Rosalind, though their gazes remained lowered, as it was considered disrespectful to look the king in the eye.
"Viscount Calder." The king's voice wasn't loud, but it was calm, and it drew immediate attention.
"Your Majesty," her father said quickly, inclining his head. Rosalind noticed how his tone had changed completely.
"Your daughter," the king said.
"Yes," Calder answered.
His head tilted slightly toward Rosalind. "She doesn't seem very… obedient." Seeing how her eyes carried defiance, how she didn't seem like someone who could be easily controlled.
Rosalind met his gaze, unimpressed. "And you seem very interested in that."
A faint smile touched his lips. "I am," he said simply.
Her father shifted beside her. "She's young and still learning," he said quickly, almost defensively.
"I see." The king's eyes never left Rosalind. "That can be corrected."
Something cold slid down her spine.
Rosalind's fingers curled slightly at her side. "I'm not something that needs correcting."
"We'll see," he replied shortly, a smile still on his lips. Before, Rosalind might have found that smile charming, but now it felt dangerous, like it held something far worse beneath it. Something in her told her she needed to run.
"Viscount Calder," the king said again, and her father straightened immediately. "Your daughter has captured my interest, and I would like to have her as one of my mistresses."
Rosalind's gaze shifted to her father, whose lips slowly broke into a smile. "Thank you, Your Majesty, for your kindness and benevolence toward my family," he said. "Rosalind is all yours. She will serve you well."
Her fists tightened at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. "Father, you can't just agree without my..."
Her voice was cut short as her father shot her a sharp glare. "You should bow and thank His Majesty for his kindness toward you," he instructed.
Rosalind remained standing. No, she didn't want to be anyone's mistress, especially not his. She had spoken to him before and felt at ease, but not anymore. The fact that he had deceived her by letting her speak so freely, made her look like a fool told her everything she needed to know. And she could only assume there were worse things hidden beneath that charming face, things she didn't want to find out.
Viscount Calder turned to the king. "I will correct her behaviour, your majesty" Then back to his daughter. "Have you lost your mind, Rosalind? Why wouldn't you thank His Majesty?" he glowered, raising his hand to strike her in front of the king, to prove he was a proper father trying to teach her but the girl simply refused to bend.
"Calder," Alaric warned, his voice low yet menacing, and the viscount's hand remained suspended in the air as others around them watched. "You don't have any right to touch her," King Alaric said, his tone calm but dangerous.
"Because she isn't yours." His gaze shifted to Rosalind. "She now belongs time and I don't share what's mine ."
"I don't belong to anyone," she muttered under her breath.
"You don't have a choice in this, little one," he countered, and she could feel her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "The moment I decide to own something, nobody else can touch it." His narrowed gaze shifted back to the viscount.
Rosalind felt like she was losing her mind. Own... Something... The words did something to her that she didn't like, and she wanted to scream at the top of her voice.
"Ah yes, I understand, Your Majesty," Viscount Calder said quickly. "Rosalind belongs to you now, and nobody will dare touch her. Thank you for your kindness toward my daughter," he added, bowing his head again. Alaric already looked tired of the exchange.
"You may head home and rest assured that you will be compensated well for this," Alaric said, and the viscount's lips stretched into a pleased smile.
With one final glance and a smirk thrown toward a seething Rosalind with loose tendrils framing her face, Alaric turned and walked away. Then the ceremony resumed as though nothing had happened.
The smirk on the king's lips never faded. He had just found his new plaything, and she amused him more than he expected. He ignored the fact that she had insulted him to his face, that she had been rude because with proper training, she would learn. He couldn't wait to straighten her for himself. He would make sure she never left the castle, never left him, and remained by his side. Whether she liked it or not.
Rosalind muttered under her breath, "You will live to regret this. I am not like other women."
But Alaric already knew that and he was more than capable of whatever it would take to shape her into the woman he wanted.