Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 22

I pushed the food around my plate with little enthusiasm, forcing down a few reluctant bites before finally surrendering. The meal was a feast for the eyes—golden, flaky pastries, richly seasoned meat, and fruit that sparkled like precious jewels—but my stomach stubbornly rejected it. Each mouthful churned painfully, turning into a wave of nausea that made me want to retreat from the table altogether.

An hour later, silent servants appeared as if from nowhere to discreetly clear away the untouched dishes. None of them met my gaze. They moved with an eerie, ghostlike precision—quiet, efficient, and gone before I could even summon the words to thank them. The silence they left behind pressed down on me, unfamiliar and suffocating in its stillness.

No shouting echoed through the halls. No sharp commands sliced the air. No one addressed me by my rank as if it were a weapon. For the first time in a long while, I was truly alone.

I should have welcomed the calm. Instead, a creeping unease settled beneath my skin, crawling like cold fingers. After years of relentless noise and chaos, this silence felt less like peace and more like a trap closing in.

To distract myself, I set about remaking the bed, folding each sheet with rigid, military precision. The repetitive motion kept my restless hands occupied, though the neatness only underscored how little control I really had over everything else.

Next, I moved to the bath. Steam curled up lazily from the enormous tub, thick and fragrant like a morning fog. I sank beneath the warm water, letting the heat seep into my aching muscles, coaxing the tension to unwind and loosen its grip. The sensation was almost alien—after so long, I allowed myself to simply be, to exist without fear or expectation.

Wrapped in a thick towel, I stepped out into the softly scented air—lavender and polished wood mingling in the quiet space. As I explored, I discovered a hidden alcove lined with shelves, a secret reading nook filled with books stacked from floor to ceiling. I pulled one at random and let the words pull me in, swallowing me whole.

For the first time in months, I lost all sense of time.

It wasn’t until my stomach growled loudly that I remembered the passing hours and the forgotten lunch. A small flicker of hope stirred inside me—tentative and fragile. Maybe, just maybe, this was a glimpse of what normal life could feel like again.

Then I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

My plain black shirt hung loosely over faded jeans, my hair still damp and tangled from the bath. Even after washing away the grime, I felt unclean—not on the surface, but deep down, as if the dirt had settled into my bones.

When had I started to see myself as damaged beyond repair? Kevin’s cruel voice echoed in my mind—his insults thrown like daggers. Broken. Worthless. I had believed him, even when every part of me screamed I shouldn’t.

A sudden knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts.

I opened it, expecting a servant carrying a tray. Instead, a young woman stood there, hands empty, her face bright with a practiced, polite smile. “My lady, the king requests your presence for lunch.”

The words froze me in place.

“Lunch? With him?”

She tilted her head politely. “Yes, His Majesty awaits you in the dining hall. I am to escort you.”

My throat tightened, dry and raw. Flynn’s warning echoed sharply in my mind: Stay out of sight. Don’t cause trouble.

But this wasn’t a request I could refuse.

“Shall we go, my lady? Or would you prefer to change first?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify