Claimed By The Tyrant King

Rowan looked down at him with an expression of complete indifference, as though the man standing before him was no more than a minor inconvenience.

"You must have heard that your rebellion is falling apart, which is why you were in such a hurry to escape," Rowan said calmly. "You know your people are being hunted down one by one, and you also know that once they are gone, it will be your turn to face execution. Isn’t that correct?"

Griswold narrowed his eyes but remained silent, his jaw tightening as he glared at the king standing above him.

Rowan continued to look at him without the slightest change in expression. "I have no use for you anymore," he said coldly.

"I could have you killed where you stand at this very moment, and no one here would question my decision because, after everything you have done, you deserve nothing less. Don’t you agree?"

Griswold’s fingers slowly curled into fists at his sides, yet he held his tongue because he knew better than to provoke Rowan now.

The king’s voice carried no anger or excitement, and that was exactly what made it so terrifying. There wasn’t the slightest trace of a bluff in his words, and Griswold knew that if Rowan gave the order, the arrows aimed at him would be released without hesitation.

However, Rowan’s next words struck him far harder than any blade could have. "But I won’t give you the satisfaction of dying so easily," Rowan said, his voice remaining calm and unwavering.

"Death would be a mercy, and mercy is the one thing you no longer deserve. Instead, you will spend the rest of your days paying for every innocent life you have taken, every family you have torn apart, and every moment of fear you brought upon this kingdom. You wanted to watch this kingdom crumble into despair, and you believed I would lose everything while you stood victorious, but fate has decided otherwise."

Rowan paused only briefly before continuing, his gaze never leaving Griswold.

"You deserve a slow punishment, one that will strip away your pride little by little until there is nothing left of the man who once believed himself untouchable. Every morning you wake, you will wonder whether that day will be your last, and every night you sleep, you will fear that dawn may never come for you. You wanted others to live with that terror, so now you shall live with it yourself, and I will personally see to it that your punishment is carried out exactly as it should be."

Griswold’s throat tightened bitterly as anger and helplessness battled within him, yet there was nothing he could say that would change his fate.

Rowan finally shifted his gaze towards the surrounding guards.

"Subdue him and return him to his cell," he ordered. "From this moment onward, he is to be watched day and night. Double the guards, search every person who enters his cell, and ensure he never finds another opportunity to escape. I will not tolerate a second failure."

"Yes, Your Majesty," one of the guards answered immediately before several of them stepped forward at once and firmly seized Griswold by both arms.

Griswold struggled for only a brief moment before realizing it was pointless. The archers still had their bows drawn, and every arrow remained trained on him. If he resisted now, he would only be killed where he stood, and despite everything, he still wasn’t prepared to die.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, he reluctantly allowed the guards to drag him away, although his mind was already racing as he searched for another means of escape.

What he didn’t know, however, was that this would be the last time he would ever come close to succeeding.

After witnessing the lengths Griswold was willing to go, Rowan tightened the palace’s security beyond anything it had ever been before. Every guard became more vigilant, every prison routine was changed, and every possible weakness was reinforced until even the smallest opportunity for escape disappeared completely.

As the days slowly turned into weeks and the weeks into months, news continued reaching the dungeon one piece at a time. Griswold learned that his rebellion had finally come to an end, that every remaining rebel camp had been destroyed, and that those who had escaped capture had fled in every direction simply to save their own lives. The movement he had spent years building collapsed before his eyes, leaving behind nothing but failure and regret.

Meanwhile, Eryndor gradually returned to the peace it had once known. The homes that had been destroyed during the rebellion were rebuilt, the frightened people slowly resumed their daily lives, and order was restored throughout the kingdom under Rowan’s rule. Those who had once doubted their king no longer questioned his strength because they had seen him protect the kingdom through one of its darkest times, and with peace and stability returning once more, the people devoted themselves to rebuilding their lives and allowing the kingdom to prosper again.

****

It was several nights later when Rebecca once again made her way towards Cedric’s chamber with a wooden bowl of fresh water carefully balanced in her hands. A clean cloth rested inside the bowl, and just as she had done every day since his injury, she intended to gently wipe his forehead.

She quietly pushed the door open and stepped inside before closing it behind her, expecting to find the room exactly as she had left it earlier.

However, the moment her eyes settled on Cedric, something immediately felt different.

His breathing had become heavier.

Rebecca frowned slightly as she hurried towards the bed, and before she could even reach his side, she saw his eyelids slowly flutter open. His eyes remained unfocused and hazy as they wandered around the room, struggling to adjust after being closed for so long.

Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat.

The bowl slipped from her trembling hands and crashed loudly against the floor, sending water spilling across the room as the cloth landed beside the broken pieces, but she paid no attention to it because nothing else mattered anymore.

Tears immediately filled her eyes as she rushed to his bedside, hardly believing the sight before her.

"Cedric," she called, her voice trembling with overwhelming relief as she reached for his hand. "Cedric..."

He had finally woken up.

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