Chapter 2 LOVE HATES

Torin strode into the palace, the grandeur of the hall swallowing him whole. His personal guard took his sword with a silent nod-a ritual steeped in loyalty and unspoken reverence. Whispers drifted through the marble corridor, mingling with the rustle of silk gowns, but all else faded when his gaze locked with Ashley, his queen.

Her eyes held him captive, their intensity sparking a fire deep within his weary heart. As he moved toward her, the bustling world around them melted into insignificance.

"My beloved," he murmured, pulling her into a kiss laced with longing and unspoken promises. Her warmth wrapped around him, soothing the exhaustion that clung to his shoulders.

"My king," Ashley replied softly, her voice a gentle caress. She bowed slightly, her gown flowing like water around her feet. But the tender moment was broken by the gravity of duty-ever looming like a storm on the horizon.

"My queen," Torin said, the fatigue in his tone undeniable. "Thanks to the-"

Ashley began, but he cut her off, his voice cracking with uncontained urgency. "I am god. There is no other."

His words echoed through the chamber as he turned to face his son, Duke, who stood a few paces away. The young man's expression was one of restrained emotion-respect veiling concern.

"Welcome, Father," Duke said, bowing his head.

Torin's brow furrowed. "You keep your father waiting?"

Without hesitation, Duke stepped forward and embraced him. The warmth of his touch softened Torin's edge-for a moment.

"Your father had the victory," Duke said evenly.

"It is obvious," Torin replied, his voice cool. But a deeper emotion flickered in Duke's eyes.

"You have to stay cold on my return?" Torin pressed, his voice chilling as his smile vanished.

"Father," Duke said quietly, "they were peaceful people. They didn't deserve what you did to them."

"You are the son of the fearless King Torin," Torin boomed, his voice echoing off the high stone walls.

"This isn't about fear," Duke argued, his voice rising.

"You must behave as-" Torin began, but Duke's conviction surged forward.

"Having you as a father is the greatest gift life has given me," Duke said, his gaze drifting to the open doorway. "But what you did today was despicable."

Torin's laughter rang out, harsh and sharp. "I love how my own son lectures his father. His king."

He lowered himself onto the throne, his expression unreadable. "Someday you'll be king. Then you'll understand the need to show-"

"Your weakness to your enemies!" Duke cut in, passion flaring in his voice.

Silence descended-a battlefield of wills forged in blood and pride.

"I expect you to finish that sentence," Torin said, his authority reclaiming the room.

"I'm sorry, Father," Duke murmured, unable to meet his father's eyes. The disappointment radiating from Torin pierced deeper than any blade.

"This isn't the son I raised you to be," Torin said coldly.

Ashley stepped forward, her voice firm. "You do not question your father."

Duke bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Arise, my son," Torin commanded, gesturing with his gleaming scepter.

A guard stepped forward, voice ringing out, "Presenting the lady to the king!"

The palace gates swung open. Elara entered.

Her presence changed the air.

She moved with grace, her beauty magnetic, her gown displaying a form both regal and rebellious. Her poise stole the attention of the court-and Duke's breath.

Elara walked to the center of the hall, but did not bow. Her defiance was a blade drawn in silence.

A guard whistled, "Bow to the king!"

Torin's lips curled into a dangerous smile. At his signal, two guards seized her and forced her to her knees.

Duke's fists clenched. The pull in his chest was undeniable. Her eyes, blazing with fire, burned a path straight to his soul.

---

Later that night, Duke stood outside his father's chamber, shadows dancing on the walls like flickering doubts. Torin's voice beckoned.

"Come in, son."

He entered, heart heavy.

"You aren't asleep," Torin observed. "What troubles you?"

"The maiden," Duke said quietly.

Torin raised an eyebrow. "What maiden?"

"The one you brought in... Elara."

Torin's voice turned sharp. "What about her?"

"I want her."

Silence.

"She is my toy, boy."

"That doesn't matter," Duke said, steadier now. "She is more than that. She is not a possession. There is a spirit in her that deserves freedom. I want her, and I must have her."

Torin's gaze darkened. Power radiated from him, but Duke didn't flinch.

"Good night, Father," he said, and walked out.

---

The palace gardens were quiet, drenched in the perfume of jasmine and night dew. Duke breathed deeply, trying to steady his heart.

But all he could think of was Elara.

Her defiance.

Her fire.

Her strength.

"Duke!" came a voice. Malen, his best friend, ran to him, eyes wide with urgency. "You've caused quite a stir."

"I had to speak up," Duke said, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I couldn't watch her be treated like that."

Malen's face tightened. "Your father won't forget this. You know what he is."

"I don't care!" Duke snapped. "She's a person, not a toy like he told me."

Malen studied him. "And what now? Will you challenge him?"

"I have to do something," Duke said firmly. "I won't live in fear."

Even if it meant defying a king.

Even if it meant defying my father.

Malen nodded slowly. "Just... be careful. He doesn't lose easily."

"I know," Duke replied. "But I can't ignore this. Elara deserves more than this life."

As the moon climbed high and the palace slept, Duke lay awake, the weight of legacy and longing pressing on his chest like armor he couldn't remove.