A ROYAL OBSESSION

"The king has requested to have breakfast with you."

That morning, Nadira was the one who woke Maya up, and the queen jolted awake as if she had just emerged from a nightmare. Nadira's eyes widened with concern as she looked at Maya. "Your majesty... Are you alright?" she asked softly.n

Maya fixed her gaze on Nadira for a moment, her intense stare causing her maid to squirm.

Finally, Maya looked around the room and then facepalmed herself. "Your majesty?" Nadira questioned, worried about the unusual behavior.

"I'm fine, Nadira. I just wasn't expecting you," Maya admitted, feeling her heart steady as she recognized the familiar presence of her maid.

"Were you expecting his majesty?" Nadira inquired with a sly smile, her cheeks flushing.

Maya playfully swatted her arm. "No way," she retorted. The expectation she had after last night was far from what Nadira seemed to think. The truth was, after their deed last night, she anticipated either his return with guards to punish her or facing him directly, which kept her from sleeping.

"Speaking of his majesty," Nadira continued, "He specifically requested your presence in the dining hall. He wants you to join him for breakfast. I've come to prepare you, your majesty," she stated firmly.

Maya's eyes widened. "He's waiting in the dining hall?" she asked, and Nadira nodded. Maya looked away, her heart racing.

She couldn't face him after what had happened; she believed he would be furious. His invitation felt suspicious—something was off.

"I'm not going. Tell him I'm sick," Maya said, diving back under the covers.

"Your majesty, you can't refuse. His majesty doesn't take 'no' for an answer. You need to get up," Nadira urged, tugging at the duvet, but Maya clung to it.

"Your majesty, you mustn't be late. He gave me a specific time, and that time is ticking away," Nadira insisted, putting all her efforts into convincing Maya to rise and prepare breakfast to avoid any consequences.

Maya remained silent beneath the sheets, her grip tightening. She'd rather starve than face him in the dining hall.

"I swear, your majesty, if you delay him, he'll bring the guards to come drag you out of bed," Nadira warned, her tone edged with urgency.

Reluctantly, Maya released her grip on the sheets and peeked out from the covers. "Really?" she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

Nadira sighed. "Well, after the curtain incident, I can't say for sure. His majesty is unpredictable," she stated, her tone pleading as she watched Maya.

Maya sat up, her expression serious. "You don't understand..." she began, and Nadira listened, eyes wide with anticipation. "I'm already in trouble."

Nadira was puzzled. "How, your majesty?" she asked.

Maya hesitated, weighing her words before deciding to confide in Nadira, the one person she felt she could trust. "Last night..." she said, her cheeks flushing as she recounted her encounter with the king.

"So, how did it feel?" Nadira asked excitedly, her cheeks reddening as she covered her mouth. "It was painless, right? My tea helped, right? Just pleasure?" she continued, thrilled that she had contributed to Maya's experience.

Maya shook her head slowly. "We didn't go that far."

"What? After all of that?" Nadira exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock.

"I... When I was moaning, I slipped and called Peter's name," Maya revealed, watching as Nadira's eyes grew even wider, as if they might pop out of her sockets. Then Nadira exaggeratedly feigned fainting before recovering.

"What the hell?" she shouted, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth. "Your majesty... How could that happen? Who's Peter, anyway?" she demanded.

Maya took a deep breath, her tone firm as she stated, "That's not the core issue. The king left yesterday and hasn't returned since. Now, he wants to have breakfast with me, and I have a bad feeling about this. I'm not inclined to go."

Nadira closed her eyes momentarily, processing the gravity of the situation. "So you're telling me that you inadvertently called another man's name during your intimate moment with the king, he stormed off, and now he's asking to see you this morning?" Nadira asked, summarizing the events. Maya nodded, tension and apprehension etched on her face.

Nadira shook her head, "This isn't good. Men have a significant amount of pride, and what you said likely wounded his ego severely."

"What do you suggest I do? I don't see any reason to meet him or attend this breakfast," Maya replied firmly.

"You don't have that luxury, your majesty. Ignoring him will only escalate the problem. You must attend the breakfast to hear him out. After that, we can figure out a way forward," Nadira stated, her voice steady. Maya's shoulders slumped slightly, realizing the inevitability of the situation.

With a heavy sigh, she followed Nadira to the bathing room to prepare herself. There was no avoiding this encounter with the king; she needed to address this rather than let it fester. Once she finished bathing, her hair was styled, makeup applied, and she donned an elegant sky blue gown with an asymmetrical neckline that swept the floor. With her appearance complete, she was led out of her chamber.

Maya held her breath as she approached the dining hall. Nadira had stopped at the staircase, wishing her good luck, and now Maya stood before the double doors alone as the guards swung them open. The door creaked ominously, and her heart raced. She inhaled deeply, steeling herself before stepping inside. Today, she would act as if nothing had happened; she would focus solely on the meal and not mention the events of the previous night.

As she approached the large table, she continued to steady her breath, taking deliberate steps while scanning the vast dining hall. Guards flanked both sides—imposing and watchful. He sat at the head of the table, dressed similarly to the night before, but with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the strength in his arms as he lifted a glass of wine to his lips. Maya swallowed hard, the memories of last night replaying painfully in her mind—he had frozen, stared coldly at her before leaving and never returning.

Upon reaching her seat, a guard pulled it out for her. Maya nodded appreciatively, offering a soft "Thank you" as she settled in, though the anxiety surged as she faced the king directly across the table.

"Good morning, your majesty," she said with a carefully controlled smile. She would maintain her poise and act oblivious to the tension that hung between them.

Running his tongue across his upper teeth, Leon answered coolly . "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" His voice was flat, seemingly indifferent.

Maya's brow furrowed; she hadn't slept well at all, constantly anticipating his return. Yet she refused to let him know. "Yes, I did. Thank you," she replied, nodding, but her insides churned under his piercing gaze.

She broke the silence, asking, "What about you, your majesty?" It was a question for formality's sake, not born of genuine curiosity.

His eyebrow arched. "What do you think?" he shot back, leaving her momentarily speechless. Then, a smirk crept across his face, "You must be hungry. I've instructed the kitchen to prepare a hearty meal for you."

"Thank you for your consideration," she responded, swallowing the knot in her throat. "I assure you, I will enjoy it."

"Oh, you will," he replied, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes.

That sounded more like a threat than an agreement, and Maya felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. Her feelings churned and twisted as she watched him nod at one of the guards. The guard stepped forward to open the large plate in front of her while her gaze remained fixed on him, trying to gauge his intentions until the guard retreated.

He tilted his head, eyes flicking from her to the food before her.

Maya swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile as her hand grazed the spoon at the side, her eyes finally landing on the plate in front of her.

In an instant, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She stood up abruptly, the chair clattering to the ground as she did. She crashed down to the floor as the sight before her submerged her in disbelief.

On her plate lay a person's head skewered with a stick, drenched in soup, and garnished with tomatoes, peppers, and other vegetables. The person's eyes were wide, as if in their final moment, they had really been scared, and their lips parted.

And it was none other than Peter's head.