Chapter 7
Xenia looked around and noticed how the Cordon Castle seemed far more expansive than their own castle. The hallways were significantly wider.
She wondered if it was because werewolves needed more space when they shapeshifted into their hideous forms or if it was because their kingdom was simply that rich to spend it all on building an extravagant castle. However, she kept her thoughts to herself.
She had seen a human transform into a werewolf before, and it was downright horrifying to her when normal looking humans turned into monstrous beasts in the blink of an eye. She couldn’t help but cringe at the thought of how a handsome man, especially someone like the King, would look once he transformed into a beast.
She also wondered if his transformation would be different from what she had seen before. After all, she had heard that there were many different kinds of werewolves. Maybe his form would be more pleasing to the eyes?
Xenia shook her head to brush away the unnecessary thoughts floating around in her mind. What she should be thinking about right now was if the Kingdom of Cordon would be a safe haven for her at this point in time, or if she needed to devise a plot for escape.
Looking around, the castle seemed to be a four-sided solid building, and Xenia could very well see the inner courtyard as they walked towards the chamber located beside the King’s room.
The upper outline of the castle was finely decorated with cross-gables, lucarnes, and pointed roofs, while the wall towers formed a contrast with the heavily fortified walls. And of course, there were large stone figures of wolves back in the courtyard, aside from the main structures that lacked decorations and windows.
Xenia blinked at the obvious additions. She didn’t know what she expected anyway.
Most of the denizens here were werewolves… and men. Of course, they would focus more on building solid defensive walls instead of decorating them. Decorations would be more suitable for humans, just like their castle in her own Kingdom.
Gideon escorted her to the meeting hall, inside of which the King was already waiting.
“So Xen, tell me… You said you are a warrior. A warrior of which Kingdom?” The King questioned the moment they stepped inside.
His eyes keenly stared at her without ever blinking or moving. She couldn’t tell at a glance whether his eyes were gray or metallic silver, but they oozed intimidation the longer she stared at them.
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By the time she realized she needed to speak, her throat had already dried up.
“I… I’m just a wanderer, Your Majesty. I don’t belong to any kingdom,” she answered, trying her best to maintain eye contact so as to not show weakness.
Keeping her poise, she noticed him raising his brow and giving a slight nod. It was something that would have gone unnoticed if she hadn’t been watching him closely.
There was a moment of silence before he nonchalantly said, “Interesting… It’s the first time I’ve met a wanderer with such great fighting prowess.”
Since there was no time for dilly-dallying, Xenia knew she needed to move on from the current topic. The earlier she did, the better.
“Your Highness, like you said to the other survivors… Can you spare me my freedom to choose and-” Xenia began as fast as possible, but she was still interrupted mid-sentence.
“And like I said earlier… I own your life from now on. It’s either YOU succumb to me, or I will throw you into a pit.” The King sternly replied.
“A pit?” she said in disbelief.
“Bartos, explain to our dear warrior here what’s going on inside our Kingdom’s Pit,” the King instructed the man with a scar on his face who she thought would hurt her mercilessly if given the chance.
“The Pit is where we throw the condemned. Whoever is thrown into this pit is forced into a fight for survival. If they live, they will be given a second chance,” Bartos explained.
“Excuse me?!” Xenia said out loud. “But I haven’t done anything to be condemned about!” she protested.
“You will be considered one of the condemned once you disobey the King,” Gideon interrupted, making Xenia’s jaw drop.
The incognito princess gulped as the realization of her reality now struck her. She was no longer a Princess, and she was far, far away from her own Kingdom.
She should have expected that the road she chose to follow would not always be easy. She was now a wanderer, so she had to try her best while also being as fast as possible to adapt to the life of a commoner.
In her Kingdom, disobedience to the King’s Orders was punishable by death. The same went for most other Kingdoms as well, with little to no expectations.
The problem now though was that this Kingdom was ruled by the ruthless Werewolf King. And the said King would rather watch a fight among the condemned and see them reach their inevitable deaths.
The King signaled Xenia to sit on the opposite chair before him, which she promptly did. Xenia wondered if she should just ditch her disguise but then remembered that being a woman only meant slavery to men.
She couldn’t even disclose her identity since she was sure that her father was still looking for her. She wouldn’t make the mistake of doing something that would make her vulnerable.
Xenia, who was still caught off-guard, finally found her words. “I am grateful to you, Your Majesty, for saving my life, but that doesn’t mean you own it,” she firmly stated before her tone slowly turned into a more pleading tone.
“I am willing to repay your kindness and my debt by all means, but you must not deprive me of my freedom. Please… I beg of you.”
“I don’t think you have the luxury to bargain with me. You would be as good as dead if it weren’t for me,” the King mercilessly declared.
“This will be the last time I will repeat this… Your life belongs to me now. Accept your fate, or face the consequences,” he remarked without batting an eye, leaving Xenia speechless.
“Escort our warrior to the chamber beside mine. Make sure to provide him with whatever it is that he needs. Let our healers treat him properly as well.” the King added, giving instructions to his two men inside the room.
“No!” Xenia rejected.
“No?” Darius retorted with a dark expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. What I mean is that, with your permission, I prefer Healer Tarah to attend to my wounds personally,” she politely backtracked, followed by her own meager request.
She could only hope that the King would agree, or else her facade would be exposed for what it truly was.