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86.2% The Demon King's Substitute Bride / Chapter 25: A Slap

章節 25: A Slap

~Queen Fortuna~

I returned to the quarters feeling victorious. This was a step I had long

waited to take. Ever since the new concubine arrived, everything in the palace

shifted.

The king favored her openly, giving her the confidence to disrespect me. But

now, I finally had her where I wanted her. She had sealed her own fate by

disrespecting the king. And the best part? He had no idea I had arrested his

precious concubine.

"What if the king finds out?" my handmaid Angelina asked cautiously. She

poured wine into a glass and handed it to me, her hands trembling slightly.

I took a slow sip and let a smile spread across my face. This was the moment

I savored most. "He won't," I said simply. "Just like the others, she'll fade

from his memory. And when the time is right, I'll bring in another concubine to

replace her."

"Do you think he'll forget her that easily, Your Highness?" Angelina's voice

wavered, betraying her fear.

I set my glass down and leaned in close, my tone laced with confidence. "The

king has his pleasures, Angelina. He will adjust, as he always does. And when he

does, this little inconvenience will be forgotten."

Angelina nodded but didn't seem convinced. Her unease only made my victory

taste sweeter.

Why are you trembling like a coward?" I asked, sitting on the edge of

my bed. This wasn't our first time handling a troublesome concubine. We'd done

it countless times before, and the king never found out. At first, he would ask

about them, but my clever excuses always made him forget they ever existed.

Angelina stood frozen by the door, her head bowed, her voice shaking. "This

one is different," she whispered. "The king… he seems to care for her. If he

finds out…"

I shot her a sharp look. "He won't," I said coldly. "Stop being so foolish."

"But this concubine… he's not like—"

Before she could finish, I hurled the glass in my hand to the floor. The

wine splashed across her dress as the shards scattered. I stood, my breath

coming fast, fury burning through me.

"Do you hear yourself?" I hissed, stepping closer until I was towering over

her. "You've lost your senses, Angelina. Siding with her? Questioning me?"

She dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Her tears irritated me

more than her words.

"If anyone breathes a word of this—anyone—I will have your head on a spike,"

I said, my voice like ice. "I will burn your entire family's name from history.

Do you understand me?"

"Yes, my queen," she choked out, her head bowed so low it nearly touched the

floor.

I turned away, disgusted. Weakness had no place around me, especially now.

There was too much at stake.

"Forgive me, my lady. I went too far…" Angelina's voice trembled, but

her words only made my blood boil.

"Get out of my sight. I don't want to see your face until I summon you," I

snapped, kicking her away from where I stood.

I turned back toward my bed, but the mess on the floor caught my attention.

She hesitated, bending to clean it, but I stopped her with a sharp glare.

"Get someone else to handle it," I ordered, my tone cold. "You're not fit to

be here right now."

She straightened, her head still bowed, and began to leave. As her hand

reached for the door, I added, "Tell the guards that no food will go to the

concubine tonight. Tomorrow, she may eat—but only a scrap."

"Yes, my lady," Angelina whispered, bowing deeply before slipping out of the

room.

As the door clicked shut, I let out a deep sigh and sank onto my bed.

Victory tasted sweet. This was only the beginning. I had removed the biggest

obstacle in my way, and now I could enjoy the king's attention without any

threats.

Finally, the game was mine to win.

**

~Katrina~

Two days later…

Time felt endless in this dark hollow. Each hour stretched into eternity,

and every moment felt like it could be my last. The cold, damp walls of the

cell seemed to close in on me, suffocating my spirit.

I had no doubt Queen Fortuna was savoring this. She would kill me with her

bare hands if she could, her thirst for my blood undeniable.

But what about the king? Did he know? Was this what he wanted all along? I

thought I meant something to him, that whatever was between us had more depth.

Yet here I was, discarded like a broken toy after the novelty wore off.

I pressed myself against the iron bars, hoping—praying—that someone would

come. I knew it was foolish to expect rescue, but hope clung stubbornly to

life, just as I did.

The cell offered no comfort. No light to soften the darkness. No company

except for the occasional scurrying of mice that climbed over my feet as if I

were nothing more than a fixture in their path.

The silence was so heavy that I could hear the faintest sound—a drip of

water, the shuffle of distant footsteps. My ears sharpened as I caught it:

someone was coming.

It couldn't be the guards; their visits were predictable—brief and

emotionless when they dropped off a scrap of bread and water, just enough to keep

me breathing. Morning or night, I couldn't tell. The absence of light made it

impossible to measure time.

This was different. The steps were deliberate, heavy. Someone was coming

straight for me. My heart raced, torn between fear and fragile hope.

The footsteps grew louder, and I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding. A

flash of light pierced the darkness, blinding me for a moment. I winced,

shielding my eyes—it had been so long since I'd seen anything but shadows.

When I finally adjusted, I saw them. The royal guards, their faces impassive

as always, and behind them, a woman.

Her appearance sent a wave of nausea through me. She reeked of filth and

decay, the stench so overpowering I almost gagged. I tried to look away, but my

curiosity held me captive. She was thin, almost skeletal, with hollow eyes that

burned with a strange intensity.

"You imbeciles!" she screamed at the guards, her voice trembling

but fierce. It was the sound of someone who had fought and lost too many

battles but refused to surrender completely.

The guards didn't react. They didn't even flinch. It was clear they were

used to her outbursts.

I covered my nose, silently pleading for her to be taken somewhere

else—anywhere but here. I couldn't bear the thought of sharing this tiny,

suffocating cell with her.

But fate had other plans.

One of the guards unlocked the door to my cell, and I instinctively stepped

back, pressing myself against the cold wall.

Before I could process what was happening, the door swung open, and with a rough

shove of his boot, the guard pushed her inside. She stumbled, hitting the

ground hard with a grunt of pain.

I stared, frozen, as she lay sprawled on the floor, her breathing ragged.

The cell suddenly felt smaller, darker, as if her presence had sucked out what

little air remained.

My heart raced, and before I could think, I rushed to the woman's side,

helping her to her feet. Her knee was bleeding, the wound raw and angry, but

the guards didn't care.

Some of them chuckled, their laughter echoing in the hollow cell like a

cruel melody. Fury ignited in me, burning hotter than my fear.

I turned to face them, my voice sharp. "Do you think this makes you strong?

Brave? Hurting someone who can't fight back?"

They said nothing, their mocking smirks unwavering. I stepped closer,

emboldened. "It doesn't make you warriors. It makes you cowards."

Before I could say more, a heavy slap struck my face.

The impact knocked the breath out of me. Pain exploded across my cheek,

sharp and searing. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I thought I'd black out.

Stars danced in my eyes, bright and fleeting, then faded into the suffocating

darkness of the cell.

Dazed, I stumbled back, retreating to the corner. My face throbbed, the

sting burning like venom. I pressed my hand to my cheek, willing the pain to subside,

but the ache wasn't just physical.

I glanced at the woman, still crumpled on the floor, and my anger dissolved

into helplessness. I stayed where I was, too shaken to move.

As I sat in the shadows, my mind wandered. Memories of my life before

Xylonia flooded back—the promises I made, the dreams I once clung to. When I

first arrived here, I was certain I'd perish, but instead, I found hope.

Now, that hope was slipping away, piece by piece, crushed under Queen

Fortuna's heel. She was the shadow I'd underestimated, the storm I should have

prepared for.

If I survived this, I vowed, I wouldn't make the same mistake again.


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