XIX ※ The Queen’s Little Bloodbath: When 'Going Too Far' Is an Understatement

"Maybe Nsomi did that in a way to test if she was going to die here, after she got the news about the royal order for her to be part of the Crown Princess competition," I muttered, feeling the heaviness of the situation settle over me like a thick, suffocating blanket. I rolled my shoulders, attempting to shake off the tension that had built up inside me. My fingers ran through my hair in a mechanical motion, almost as if I could physically remove the unease that had taken root. "Do you think we went too far? Overboard, I mean," I asked, my voice trailing off with a hint of uncertainty.

"With Nsomi?" Adonis asked, raising an eyebrow. I nodded, my gaze fixed on the door of Avy's chambers. "Yes. We probably did," he continued without a second thought. "But who cares? She deserved this, and much more." His words were sharp, void of any remorse. He turned to face the door, his eyes narrowing slightly, a silent judgment etched into his features. "Although, I have to admit, I was expecting her to knock on the door any second, crying, screaming, begging us to open it."

"I thought the same thing," I replied quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I stared at the door as though it held all the answers. "But it seems like she isn't going to do that. At least not yet."

The silence between us stretched out, thick and palpable, as we both waited for something—anything—from inside. The seconds felt like hours, and the tension in the air was unbearable. And then, as if on cue, Adonis spoke again.

"Maybe being inside Avyanna's chambers doesn't faze her one bit," he said, his voice uncertain, as if he were still trying to figure it out himself.

"Do you really think so?" I asked, my eyes shifting to him, searching for any sign of conviction. I wanted to believe it, but something in my gut told me it wasn't that simple.

He looked away, his gaze drifting toward the ground. "I don't know. But she's not reacting the way I thought she would. I can't think of any other reason for her silence. She's too calm. It's unsettling."

I hesitated, my brow furrowing in thought. "Do you think she might have… I don't know, fainted?" I asked, my voice betraying a small hint of doubt. The idea of Nsomi being physically harmed unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

Adonis let out a sarcastic laugh, his eyes glinting with something hard. "No way. Fainting over this? I don't think so. Not after everything she's said." He scoffed, though there was no humor in it. "She made it clear that nothing can hurt her anymore." I frowned at that, unsure if I could truly believe her words. It felt like a hollow claim, like something she told herself to survive, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't entirely true.

"Let's just wait another hour and a half," I suggested, trying to keep a sense of control over the situation. "If she doesn't react by then, we'll go in and check. Either she's unconscious or she's faking it." The thought of her being unconscious filled me with dread, but I didn't want to entertain the possibility that she was playing us.

"Fine," Adonis replied, his voice flat, his tone giving away little of what he was truly feeling. But I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. Neither of us was comfortable with what was happening.

We stood in silence, both of us on edge, our eyes locked on the door to Avyanna's chambers. Time stretched on, each second dragging as if the very air around us had thickened, weighed down by our collective unease. And still, there was nothing. Not a sound. No movement. The quiet was maddening, each minute building on the last until it felt like we were trapped in an endless moment.

After what felt like an eternity, I couldn't take it anymore. The tension in my chest was too much to bear. "But Adonis… we kind of beat her to a pulp," I said, my voice coming out strained. The reality of what we had done hit me again, sharper now. "Don't you think that might be enough to make her faint?" I glanced at him, my eyes searching his face for any sign of reassurance, though I knew deep down it was a question without an easy answer.

He bit his lip, his expression conflicted. "I hope not," he muttered, his voice tight with uncertainty. "Because if she's hurt like that, even though Dai may not care, his parents might. She's part of the competition, after all." The weight of that statement hit us both. It wasn't just about Nsomi or the mess we'd created—it was about the consequences. We both knew that, if this went the wrong way, it could have devastating repercussions.

"Then let's just hope neither the King nor the Queen find out about what we did," I said, my voice quiet, but my words heavy with fear. The thought of being caught, of facing the wrath of the royal family, was enough to make my stomach churn.

It was at that moment that I noticed someone approaching us. At first, I didn't recognize who it was, too consumed by my own anxiety to focus. But the voice that cut through the tension made my heart stop.

"What am I not supposed to learn, exactly, Sohan?" The Queen's voice was icy, sharp, and it sent a shiver down my spine. She was standing just a few paces behind us, her presence more oppressive than any physical force.

Goosebumps spread down my arms, and I stiffened instinctively. Without thinking, Adonis and I jumped to our feet, positioning ourselves between the Queen and the door to Avyanna's chambers. I could feel her presence like a storm brewing, an undeniable force drawing closer. The air became thick, suffocating, and my heartbeat was the only sound I could hear, pounding in my chest, my ears, my throat.

My body went cold, and I could feel sweat gathering on my forehead. Was it from the fear, or from the suffocating tension in the air? I couldn't tell.

I wasn't good at handling pressure. Everyone knew that. But the Queen? She knew exactly how to make me feel like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall. And she wasted no time honing in on me, her gaze locking on me with lethal precision.

"Sohan," she said, her voice sharp and deadly, like a whip. "I'll ask you one more time, and it will be better for you if you tell me the truth. What are you hiding from me?" Her words hung in the air, thick with menace. I could feel them closing in on me, squeezing the air from my lungs.

I couldn't find my voice. I tried to speak, to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. My mouth was dry, and my legs felt like they were made of stone. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I was paralyzed, trapped in the grip of her gaze.

The Queen took a slow, deliberate breath, closing her eyes for a moment as if gathering herself. When she opened them again, there was no mercy left in her. "Get out of my way," she commanded, her voice colder than ice. It wasn't a request. It was an order.

I couldn't move. My legs refused to obey me. I stood there, rooted to the spot, my body locked in fear.

"I am your Queen," she snapped, her words cutting through the air with brutal finality. "And you will listen to me! Get out of my daughter's chambers right now. Don't make me repeat myself!" Her voice held an ironclad force that left no room for argument, no space for defiance.

With no other choice, we stepped aside, our bodies trembling in the wake of her fury. And as she opened the door, I felt the world shift beneath my feet.

The sight inside hit us like a punch to the gut. There, lying on the floor, was Nsomi. Unconscious. Her body surrounded by a pool of blood. The vomit on the ground only added to the grotesque scene, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.

The Queen screamed. It was a sound full of raw, unfiltered terror—a mother's cry of despair. But Adonis and I were frozen in place, unable to tear our eyes away from the nightmare unfolding before us.

Without hesitation, the Queen rushed forward, her hands shaking as she cradled Nsomi's lifeless body in her arms. "Gods above, her breathing is weak," she whispered, almost to herself. Her gaze turned to us, her eyes blazing with fury. "Call a physician right fucking now! What are you waiting for?"

I felt the panic rise in my chest. Was she going to die?

We rushed out of the room, moving as quickly as we could. I glanced at Adonis, my stomach twisting in knots. "Was this the reason she didn't want to come here?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Because she knew she was going to die?"

He didn't answer immediately, his mind clearly elsewhere, calculating every possible outcome. Finally, as we reached the physician's quarters, he spoke, his words cold and detached. "If she dies, I wouldn't care. She deserves it."

But does she? Does she really? The question lingered in my mind, unanswered, as the weight of what had just happened settled in.