[Pride Awards 2023, hosted by official lgbtq , Romance Category Winner and 5th Place Grandwinner] The foster son of a former cupbearer marries the cursed king of Persia, becoming not only the first consort to survive after the wedding, but also a th...
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Dawn had arrived. It was time, possibly, for another death.
Shahrazad opened his eyes, watching an unfamiliar plethora of shades all around. He remembered he was no longer in his home. It was the palace now.
It was the presumed day of his death.
He looked around to find the room vacant. Shahryar must have left before. He didn't blame the Shah; it would be difficult for any man to face something this mysteriously sinister like a regular pattern of life.
"So... where's my killer?"
It would be very easy to now come and slit his throat since the Shah was not close. But maybe the ones who plotted were as clever as Shahrazad and didn't let anyone suspect them. He couldn't underestimate the human who carried out ninety-nine murders in cold blood.
His eyes fell on the tray of food kept on his bedside table. It boasted of a scrumptious array– purple grapes, thick soup and baked bread to which still stuck particles of ash.
Would he eat it? No.
"Better satiate my hunger with the fruits from the garden."
He changed into a lighter pink robe and combed his hair. He didn't know what was waiting for him next, but he had to take a bath first in the morning. So out came the hundredth spouse from the royal room, heading towards the bathhouse. The soldiers lined up in the corridors bowed to him. Shahrazad saw fear in their eyes. The eerie silence of the palace was freezing his skin and made the blood clot in his heart. The guards parted to give him way into the bathhouse. Some maids insisted that he used some oil or fragrance, but he denied everything.
"I would like to be left alone," Shahrazad said.
So he dipped his feet inside the hot water, then his waist and finally his whole body. The muscles relaxed when in contact with the warm water. He stretched his arms and let those rest at the sides, lolling back his head.
Amidst smiling and taking deep breaths of peace, Shahrazad didn't hear the very quiet, bare footsteps that were coming closer and closer. They came and waited behind him, staring at his pretty calm face.
"Shahrazad... "
In a flick of a second he opened his eyes and his heartbeats took a sharp rise. Before he could jump out of water a thick rope fitted with little pins went round his neck.
Shahrazad's eyes bulged out. He held onto the rope and tried to free himself. The woman was not the one to give up either. Shahrazad's neck was already bruised. Maybe some more time and he would leave the mortal realm.
Just like Khushboo had, the woman thought. Her mother had carried out the task in Khushboo's time, later paying it with the price of life. She would be doing the same. And in return get a generous lump sum that she would leave for her son.
