Chapter 4 : The Blue Room

Lowlands, Governor’s Palace in Peare.

Thalen stood in a room decorated in varying shades of blue. It was lavishly appointed and fit for royalty, the most impressive piece of furniture being the large four-poster bed. Oliver had escorted her here before quickly departing. She was grateful the fireplace had been lit; despite it being the warmer months, the nights could sometimes be cold. She removed her gloves, noticing a tear in one and spotting a light cut on her palm. Warming her sore hands in front of the fire, she reflected that climbing the wall had been her only option – without it, the king would never have agreed to see her.

It had been a long, painful day. After her father’s revelation, they had talked for hours. Caden Ambrose had wanted to ensure his daughter had everything under control. He had explained their finances in detail, listed the people working for them, and told her who could be trusted. He had also shown her where he kept his most valuable items, including important documents and scrolls. They had only paused to eat, and Thalen had tried not to comment on how much her father was drinking. He had always avoided libation, priding himself on keeping his self-control. But in this situation, who wouldn’t drown their sorrows in wine?

Since her father had always involved her in his affairs, Thalen already knew most of what he explained. As the hours slipped away, she feigned exhaustion from her journey and the dreadful news. Her father had sent her to bed, promising they would discuss more in the morning.

Once in her bedchamber, Thalen had asked her servants to leave. She hadn’t been able to tell Shea anything but had promised to explain everything the next day. Alone, she had quickly been overwhelmed with sadness and pain. She didn’t want to cry – she needed to act. She had to save her father, and the key to doing so lay with the king. One of her old tutors had once said that the first step in any negotiation was to determine what your opponent needed most and couldn’t obtain. The second step was to exploit that weakness to your advantage. So, in the privacy of her room, armed with quill, ink and paper, she had begun to form a plan.

Once ready, she had dressed in dark men’s clothes. She knew her house like the back of her hand, even in the dark, and knew how to avoid the guards. Thalen had made her way to the stables undetected, saddled her horse, and headed for the governor’s palace with one goal in mind – to convince the monarch that her plan would benefit both him and the kingdom.

Now that she had fulfilled her mission, she felt utterly drained, perhaps even defeated. She had no idea if the king would consider her proposal. He was not what she had expected. Thalen had not thought a king could be so…good-looking. Everything about him was captivating: the way he talked, the way he moved, and those eyes – they seemed to seize you, putting you under his spell. She hadn’t known a man could possess such feline grace and strength at the same time. She recalled all the stories she had heard about Prince Keagan of the Kincaids. He was considered arrogant, demanding, cunning, and a man who didn’t suffer fools. His military prowess was legendary, with some saying it was almost supernatural, inherited from dark forces.

More often, she had heard stories about his lust. Some had made her blush furiously, likely exaggerated. Rumours claimed that women who had shared his bed whispered about his outlandish stamina. King Keagan, a god among men.

Deity or not, Thalen reminded herself that he was a Kincaid, Black Jack’s son, and the apple never fell far from the tree. His charm could easily hide cruelty. She wondered what he would do with her if he accepted her offer. Would she be treated with the respect due to her rank, or like a mere servant? Would she even be allowed to remain in contact with her father?

She was also unsettled by the desire she had seen in the king’s eyes. Did he find her desirable? Why? He was surrounded by women far more beautiful than she was, women who were experts in the art of seduction. But her grandmother often said that men were ruled by their private parts and could desire even the ugliest creatures as long as they derived pleasure from them.

Under the king’s gaze, Thalen had felt a strange sensation in her gut – a mix of anxiety and excitement. She was unfamiliar with such a feeling and suspected it was due to the dire circumstances she found herself in. Stress, that’s all it was.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. When Thalen invited them in, a woman entered, followed by two servants. One carried a large bowl of water and towels, while the other held a dressing gown and a wooden box filled with toiletries.

The woman had honey-brown hair, which fell in delicate waves to her shoulders, and warm brown eyes. She curtsied, as did the servants.

“Lady Thalen, welcome to the king’s household. I’m Lila, part of His Majesty’s house. I thought, since it’s late, you might be too tired for the baths. I have some water and soap in case you’d like to freshen up before bed,” Lila said, smiling. She then gestured to the servant with the wooden box. “I also brought some mint water, mouth powder, myrrh, and walnut sticks. They’re the best,” she added enthusiastically.

Thalen couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Are you hungry? I’ve brought fruit, cheese, venison, bread, and something to drink. I didn’t know what you preferred, so I’ve brought wine, water, and wild cherry nectar,” Lila revealed, removing the cloth from the platter.

“Thank you, Lila. You’re very thoughtful, but I’m not hungry,” Thalen said quietly.

“You need to keep your strength up, Lady Thalen,” Lila insisted.

She placed the platter on a small table and directed one of the servants to help Thalen remove her riding boots. Lila then handed her the dressing gown, and Thalen went behind a screen to change. When she emerged, she handed Lila her clothes.

“They’ll be cleaned,” Lila assured her.

“Thank you,” Thalen replied.

“You’re very welcome. I’ll leave you now,” Lila said with a smile as she left the room with the domestics.

When they opened the door, Thalen noticed the guards stationed outside her room. She wasn’t surprised – the king didn’t trust her. She nibbled on some of the food Lila had brought, drank a bit of the cherry nectar, washed up, and went to bed.

***

In his room, the king stood from his chair, set his cup down, walked a few steps, then returned to his seat. Without even realising it, his thoughts drifted to the occupant of the blue room. Rubbing his lower lip with his index finger, he considered his conversation with Alvize. Could it really be that simple? Simple wasn’t the right word, perhaps it would be simple for the kingdom, but not for him. He had thought he would have more time. His eyes kept wandering to one side of the room.

Suddenly, making up his mind, he put his cup down, grabbed a candlestick, and moved to a hidden door. He opened it and descended the stairs, walking through a long corridor until he reached a dead end. He pressed his hand against the wall until he found the mechanism and activated it.

***

The blue room was bathed in the glow of the dying fire in the hearth. Thalen lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She pushed the covers aside – the room was now too warm. She was certain dawn would find her wide awake. How could she sleep? Her father’s life hung in the balance. Her future, her entire life, depended on the king’s decision. What must it feel like to hold so much power over someone – to decide who lived and who died? How could anyone carry that responsibility without going mad? Perhaps some relished the power, enjoying their role as gods or goddesses on earth. Keagan of the Kincaids was likely one of the latter. Damn him. The man was probably sleeping peacefully while she was tormented by uncertainty and fear.

Thalen glanced around the room, her eyes settling on a painting of a forest, filled with all manner of creatures. She sighed heavily, thinking of her father and how distressed he would be when he realised, she had disappeared. He would be beside himself once he discovered where she had gone.

She jumped, startled, as a section of the wall in front of her opened, and a tall figure entered the room. She straightened immediately, wide-eyed as she recognised the King of Megarit. She was at a loss. What was she supposed to do? Stay in bed, stand, curtsy, call for help, run? The unannounced visitor made the decision for her.

“Don’t move, Thalen,” the king ordered softly.

Her eyes followed him as he lit several candles and candelabras around the room. He then knelt by the fireplace, adding logs and stirring the embers to revive the fire. His back was to her, perfectly at ease in her room. Why wouldn’t he be? It was his palace, his land, his kingdom. Everything was his, even her father’s life.

The king was in her room for one obvious reason – to bed her. She had known this might happen, even if she wasn’t ready for it. The moment she had scaled that wall, she had placed her life in his hands. He could take her gently or by force. She hadn’t heard rumours of the king being brutal with the women who shared his bed, but perhaps those who had suffered at his hands were no longer alive to tell the tale.

Thalen knew she couldn’t overpower him – he was a seasoned warrior – but she wouldn’t let him hurt her without a fight. She wouldn’t make it easy for him if he acted like a beast. But if he didn’t? She would surrender. What choice did she have? Perhaps she could bargain – her body for her father’s life. He would probably laugh at her and take what he wanted anyway. With trembling hands, she reached for the dagger she had hidden beneath her pillow.

The king turned immediately. “What did I tell you?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

How had he known? Had he heard the rustle of the sheets, or had he simply guessed?

“Your… Majesty?” Her voice cracked, and she didn’t know what to say.

The king approached the bed and sat beside her. Thalen instinctively moved back, her heart pounding. Her white silk dressing gown was partially open, barely concealing her legs and chest. Her breathing quickened, her mouth slightly parted. She felt like prey, knowing any sudden movement could provoke the predator. She wanted to run, but her body refused to obey – she was paralysed. Keagan’s eyes lingered on her chest, rising and falling rapidly. He moved closer, placing a hand on her ankle. She flinched at the unexpected gentleness of his touch.

“Are you scared?” he asked, his hand sliding up to her calf, caressing her skin.

“N-no,” she stammered, her throat tight.

Keagan, his eyes still fixed on her chest, raised his head to meet her gaze. His expression hardened, and Thalen’s pulse raced. Her fingers tightened around the dagger.

“The truth, Thalen. Always tell me the truth. Do you understand?” His voice was harsh, resonating through the room.

Unable to speak, she simply nodded.

“Are you scared?” he repeated.

“Yes… I am.”

His hand slid higher up her leg, tracing slow circles on her inner thigh. Thalen’s breathing became shallow. That simple touch sent tremors through her body. Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips as anxiety and a strange excitement swirled in her gut. His hand moved even higher, and her body trembled. She didn’t want this, didn’t want him. Her body might be weak, but her mind wasn’t. He was a Kincaid – a dangerous man.

“Will you give yourself to me?” he asked, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on her skin.

This was the time, her moment. Thalen met his gaze, forcing herself to sound confident. “Only if His Majesty provides the signed decree making my father governor.”

The king smiled. “Liar.”

He stood, holding out his hand. Thalen hesitated but eventually took it, rising from the bed and abandoning her dagger. She quickly secured the belt of her dressing gown.

Keagan took her hand, tracing the light cut on her palm. “I didn’t know the women of the Lowlands were so fearless and wild,” he remarked, his gaze intense.

She pulled her hand away.

His eyes roamed over her. “Take it off, Thalen,” he ordered.

“What?”

“Remove it.”

“I—I…” she stammered.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

“To tell you the truth, Your Majesty… I-I don’t want to,” Thalen replied, her voice trembling.

Keagan smirked at her defiance. “You’re learning, but now, all I want is your complete obedience. Take it off.”

Thalen hesitated. If he had intended to ravish her, he could have done so on the bed. He wanted to see what he was getting, to assess if she could please him. Kincaid men – thieves, dangerous, and utterly devoid of decency. Fine, she could handle the humiliation if it meant he was considering her proposal. After a few seconds, she obeyed, letting the robe fall to the floor, her face flushed with embarrassment. She kept her eyes focused on the flames in the fireplace.

“Turn around,” the king commanded after what felt like an eternity.

Slowly, she did as he asked. A moment later, she felt his hands on her hips, pulling her against his clothed body. There was something strangely sensual about being naked against a fully dressed man. In this position, she couldn’t ignore the intensity of his desire.

He gently tugged her hair aside to expose her shoulder, his forehead resting against her as he nuzzled her skin, his lips trailing up her neck. His breath was hot on her flesh.

One hand slid over her stomach while the other cupped her breast. She bit her lip, a mix of anger and unwanted sensations coursing through her. The sound of their laboured breathing filled the room.

“Tell me, are you a virgin?” he whispered against her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine.

Thalen clenched her teeth, determined not to let her anger overwhelm her. “Of course, I am.”

He chuckled, pulling her closer. “You can understand my doubt, given how freely you enter men’s chambers.”

Thalen’s fists clenched.

“Are you saying that body hasn’t known pleasure?” he demanded. “I told you not to lie to me.”

Her mind was spinning. “No… I mean, yes.”

"Who? When? Gone was his teasing tone. His grip on her arm tightened."

Thalen blushed furiously. “I… I know what pleasure is. I… I’ve pleasured myself,” she admitted, her cheeks burning with mortification. She felt so silly, she should learn to keep her mouth shut. What had possessed her to tell him that? If only the ground could swallow her now?

The king laughed, loosening his hold. He placed his hands on her stomach, pulling her tightly against his chest. “As you should. A body like yours was made for pleasure.”

He released her suddenly, grabbing her dressing gown and handing it to her before stepping back. His heated gaze swept over her as she quickly slipped the gown on.

That was it? What was the meaning of all this?

Keagan retrieved the candlestick and made his way towards the hidden panel. He paused, turning back to her.

“Well played, Thalen of the Ambroses. Well played.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“Your father will be the master of this palace, and I will be yours,” he said, before disappearing through the hidden door.

Thalen took a step, but her trembling legs gave out. She collapsed to the wooden floor, gasping for breath, tears of relief streaming down her face. She pressed her hands to her mouth to muffle her sobs, her tears blurring her vision. But she smiled through them – her father would live. He would live.