Bab 8: Charles
Chapter 8
In the sanctuary of their private chambers, Queen Maya gently guided Alpha Charles to the plush sofa, her hands deftly working on the buttons of his shirt. Her heart pounded in her chest, a symphony of worry and concern. She rushed to fetch a glass of cold water, hoping to soothe his evident discomfort.
But when she returned, Alpha Charles, in a fit of frustration or perhaps pain, pushed the glass away with the back of his hand. The water spilled onto the floor, droplets scattering like pearls across the marble surface.
Maya watched the spectacle, her heart aching. She had always known Alpha Charles to be strong, unyielding. But now, he seemed to be giving in to his pain, his strength faltering.
"Alpha Charles," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "You must stop this. Stop giving in to whatever it is that's bothering you. You need to be strong."
In the quiet sanctuary of their private chambers, Alpha Charles found himself locked in a battle with his own body. His strength, once his pride, now seemed to be his downfall. But then, as he looked into Queen Maya's eyes, something within him stilled. Her gaze, filled with concern and unwavering faith, seemed to calm the storm within him. He lay back down on the sofa, his body relaxing under her gentle touch.
Seeing him so exhausted, Maya rushed to fetch him some water. His breathing was labored, each breath sounding like a battle won. She returned with a glass of water, her hands steady despite the worry gnawing at her heart.
"Here, drink this," she said softly, offering him the glass. Her voice, usually so firm and commanding, was now gentle, a soothing balm to his tormented soul.
Alpha Charles took the glass from her, his hand brushing against hers. The touch was brief, but it was enough. Enough to reassure him, to remind him that he was not alone in this battle. He drank the water, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.
Gently, Queen Maya ran her fingers through Alpha Charles' hair, a soothing gesture meant to comfort him. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you want some more water?"
But Alpha Charles' response was a low growl, his words curt and filled with an uncharacteristic harshness. "No," he said, his voice echoing in the quiet room.
Maya was taken aback. This was not the Alpha Charles she knew. The ever-joyous, strong leader was nowhere to be seen. Instead, in his place was a man who seemed to be wrestling with his own demons.
She watched him, her heart aching with concern. What could have caused such a change in him? What was it that was troubling him so deeply? She yearned to understand, to help him through whatever it was that was causing him such distress.
But for now, all she could do was sit by his side, offering her silent support. She knew that whatever was bothering Alpha Charles, he would not share it until he was ready. And when that time came, she would be there, ready to listen, to understand, and to help. For now, that was all she could do. And so, she sat there, by his side, her hand gently stroking his hair, a silent promise of her unwavering support.
****
In another part of the palace, a different scene was unfolding. Queen Charlotte, Queen Amelia, and Queen Elizabeth were all seated together on Charlotte's bed, bowls of cereal in their hands. The atmosphere was light and jovial, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the other parts of the palace.
They chatted and laughed, their conversation flowing from one topic to another. From the latest palace gossip to their favorite books, nothing was off-limits. It was a rare moment of camaraderie and sisterhood, a welcome respite from the power struggles and intrigues of palace life.
Queen Charlotte, despite her earlier indiscretion, seemed to be in high spirits. Her laughter echoed through the room, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Queen Amelia, always the peacemaker, listened attentively, her gentle smile never leaving her face. Queen Elizabeth, on the other hand, was more reserved, her comments sharp and witty, eliciting laughter from the others.
But amidst the laughter and light-hearted banter, a sense of unease lingered. The queens were acutely aware of the power dynamics within the palace, the delicate balance that could tip at any moment. Their shared laughter and camaraderie, though genuine, was also a strategy, a way to navigate the treacherous waters of palace politics.
Suddenly, the room fell silent. The laughter died down, replaced by a palpable tension. The queens exchanged glances, their smiles fading. Something had shifted.
The silence in the room was deafening, a stark contrast to the laughter that had filled it just moments ago. The queens exchanged glances, their smiles fading. Something had shifted, a change so subtle yet so profound.
Queen Elizabeth broke the silence first. "Did you feel that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Something's not right."
Queen Amelia nodded, her eyes reflecting her concern. "I felt it too," she admitted. "It's like a storm is brewing."
Queen Charlotte, despite her high spirits, couldn't help but agree. "It's as if the palace itself is holding its breath," she added, her voice somber. The words hung in the air, a testament to the tension that had seeped into the very walls of the palace.
They fell silent again, each lost in their thoughts. The jovial atmosphere from moments ago seemed like a distant memory now. They were all too aware of the power dynamics within the palace, the delicate balance that could tip at any moment. The tension was palpable, a silent reminder of the storm that was about to come. It was as if they were standing on a precipice, staring down at the chasm of uncertainty and change.
Their bowls of cereal lay forgotten on the bed, the remnants of their earlier camaraderie. Their conversation, once filled with laughter and light-hearted banter, was replaced by a tense silence. Each queen was lost in her thoughts, their minds undoubtedly racing with the same questions and fears.
They were on the precipice of change, a shift in power that promised to shake the very foundations of their world. The game of Alphas, a deadly dance of power and survival, was far from over. The stage was set, the players in their places. The next move could mean the difference between triumph and downfall.
And so, they sat there, their hearts heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unsaid fears. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the occasional clink of a spoon against a cereal bowl.
Hadiah
-- Hadiah diterima Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone