Claimed By The Tyrant King

"I won’t repeat myself," Griswold said, his voice turning even colder as he pressed the dagger slightly closer. "Take them off."

Seeing that the man was not bluffing, the guard hurriedly obeyed, his trembling fingers fumbling with each piece of clothing while the bitter cold of the dungeon settled over his bare skin. He had barely finished removing them before Griswold snatched them away and quickly pulled them on himself, making sure every piece sat properly so nothing would immediately give him away.

Outside the cell, the remaining guards began exchanging suspicious glances as the minutes dragged on.

"What’s taking him so long?" one of them muttered.

"He should have been out by now," another replied before stepping towards the cell.

Without another word, he unlocked the gate and pushed it open, allowing a faint stream of torchlight to spill into the darkness. Standing inside was the figure of the guard, dressed exactly as expected, while deep in the darkest corner of the cell another figure lay slumped against the wall with his mouth tightly bound using Griswold’s discarded clothes.

The imprisoned guard struggled desperately and tried to shout through the cloth gag, but every sound that escaped him came out as muffled cries, swallowed almost completely by the darkness of the dungeon.

"You there, I told you not to waste any time inside!" one of the guards called impatiently from outside the cell.

Griswold lowered his head at once, making sure the helmet concealed as much of his face as possible before he picked up the empty tray and walked out of the cell with measured, unhurried steps. He forced himself to remain calm despite the pounding of his heart because he knew that the slightest sign of nervousness would draw unwanted attention to him.

Once he crossed the threshold, the guards shut the heavy iron gate behind him without suspecting that the man they believed to be their fellow guard was, in fact, the very prisoner they had been ordered to watch so carefully.

Griswold continued walking down the corridor, resisting every urge to quicken his pace because fleeing too soon would only expose him. He had barely gone a few steps when a voice suddenly stopped him.

"You there... wait."

Griswold froze instantly.

His fingers slowly tightened around the dagger hidden beneath the folds of his borrowed uniform while he kept his back turned, forcing himself to remain as composed as possible.

The guard who had spoken narrowed his eyes as he studied the figure before him.

"Why do you suddenly smell different?" he asked suspiciously as he began walking towards him. "And since when did you start walking like that?"

The other guard remained beside the cell, unaware of the danger unfolding only a few steps away, while the suspicious guard continued closing the distance between them.

Griswold’s pulse quickened.

He had hoped to leave the dungeon unnoticed, but it seemed fate had other plans.

"Turn around," the guard ordered firmly, the uneasy feeling in his stomach refusing to disappear.

Griswold remained completely still.

His silence only deepened the guard’s suspicion.

Without another word, the guard reached out and grabbed his shoulder, intending to spin him around and see his face for himself, but the moment his hand landed on Griswold, the latter moved with frightening speed. The dagger flashed through the dim corridor before plunging straight through the guard’s hand.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the dungeon.

The guard staggered backwards in agony as blood poured freely from the wound, the blade having pierced completely through his hand until its tip emerged from the other side.

The second guard’s eyes widened in horror.

"That’s not him!" he shouted the instant he caught sight of Griswold’s face. "It’s Griswold! Catch him!"

He immediately abandoned his post and charged after the escaping prisoner while his injured companion collapsed to his knees, clutching his ruined hand and crying out in unbearable pain.

Griswold did not look back.

He sprinted through the winding corridors of the dungeon, cursing furiously beneath his breath because his disguise had lasted only a few precious moments. Those moments, however, had been enough to get him beyond the prison cells, and now all he needed was a way out of the palace.

Before long, the loud ringing of alarm bells echoed across every corner of the royal palace.

"A prisoner has escaped!"

"Seal every exit!"

"Find Griswold!"

The urgent cries spread from one end of the palace to the other as guards hurried from every direction, their heavy armour clashing loudly against the stone floors while they rushed to intercept the fugitive. Servants and nobles alike quickly stepped aside, pressing themselves against the walls as armed knights stormed through the corridors with weapons already drawn.

Griswold darted through one passage after another, relying solely on instinct as he searched desperately for an escape route. Behind him, the guard who had first given chase struggled to keep up, but he refused to stop shouting directions whenever he caught another glimpse of the fleeing man.

"That way!" he yelled as he pointed towards a narrow alley between two sections of the palace.

Without hesitation, several guards broke into the passage and pursued Griswold through the tight corridor, convinced they were closing the distance between them. Their footsteps thundered behind him, growing louder with every passing second until the narrow path suddenly opened into the palace courtyard.

The moment Griswold stumbled into the open space, his steps faltered.

Guards were already waiting.

They surrounded him from every direction in a tight circle, their swords drawn while the archers standing behind them immediately raised their bows, dozens of arrows aimed directly at his chest.

Griswold slowly lifted both hands.

"There is nowhere left for you to run, Griswold." The calm yet commanding voice came from above.

Griswold looked up, and so did every guard gathered in the courtyard.

Standing on the palace balcony with an expression as cold as stone was Rowan. "How very dishonourable of you," Rowan said as he looked down at him without the slightest hint of emotion. "After everything you have done to this kingdom, you still attempt to run from the punishment waiting for you."

Griswold clenched his jaw so tightly that the muscles in his face twitched with frustration.

"You truly believed I wouldn’t anticipate an escape attempt?" Rowan continued, narrowing his eyes. "Did you think I would leave your imprisonment to chance after everything you’ve already done? Every route you could have taken was watched long before you made your move."

A bitter laugh escaped Griswold’s lips despite the circle of weapons surrounding him. "I suppose..." he muttered with a deep frown settling across his face, "I underestimated you once again, Your Majesty."

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