Violet_Melody99

Cassian had lived his life in the most miserable way. He had scrubbed the floors and washed the clothes in the cold winter and done everything just to please his uncle’s family, but in return, they sold him to a merchant only for a pouch of coins.

And the merchant decided to gift him to the king of Aetherlyn, a faraway kingdom from his small village to show his loyalty and curry favor from the king. And he was the lucky one from the group to be choosen by the king. Thus he got the position of palace servant. 

Cassian thought maybe his life in the palace would be different, but he was bound to be disappointed as the people in the palace were far more sinister and ruthless. Scheming ran in their blood.

And can anyone tell him why his path always crossed with the notorious first prince of the kingdom? The seemingly cold prince had an unpredictable temper. And why was he always drawn to him like a moth to a light?

Will Cassian be able to survive in the palace where the true faces are hidden behind masks, or will he become more entangled in their schemes and just become a mere pawn in their game?

Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty

Malakar swallowed hard; he was waiting for the response, but in the pit of his stomach, a creeping realization began to form.

His eyes fixated on the cold stone floor as the eerie silence stretched between them. His breath hitched slightly as he awaited the words of his Lord.

"You're not supposed to be here, Malakar," Xalor said quietly, his tone calm, almost devoid of any emotion.

Malakar clenched his fists at his sides, unsure how to respond, his thoughts constantly battling the conflicting emotions that roared within him. His mind raced with questions, but he couldn't speak, not yet. He needed to compose himself and understand the situation first.

"You couldn't sense me, could you?" Xalor continued, his voice cutting through Malakar's turmoil. "That look of bewilderment... It's not the reaction I expected from you."

"My Lord…" Malakar's voice was low, strained with disbelief. "Forgive me, I didn't... I didn't recognize you. Your presence—it's—"

Chapter 35: History repeating itself.