Royals of Ruemri Book I: Betrothal

Chapter 13 - Part 2

RAFFE unleashed a torrent of curses in every language he knew, his voice a blend of frustration and fury, as his men clashed in combat around him. Yet, there he sat, injured and feeling utterly foolish in a corner. Despite his readiness to join the fray, even with a gaping wound in his stomach, a combination of stern glares and concerned looks from the healers who hurried to his aid prevented him from springing into action. Their swift efforts managed to staunch the bleeding, albeit temporarily, anchoring him in place against his will. That and the lethal glowers of his cousins when they saw him and Jadel's curt order to 'stay the fuck where you are or I swear to Pantheon if I see you move an inch from that place, I will make you eat your balls'.

Like it was Raffe's fault he got stabbed. They always fussed over him, pampering and haranguing him at the same time.

Screams of agony erupted in every direction, mingling with the clash of steel, splatters of blood, and billowing smoke—a chaotic hell unfolding in the heart of the battle. Among the chaos, panic-stricken nobles who had suddenly comprehended the nature of the unfolding auction added their shrill cries to the cacophony.

The chamber sprawled wide and dark, Raffe observed, adorned with decrepit rows of benches encircling three towering iron cages, each standing at least two feet taller than him. The room exuded a dense, oppressive atmosphere, a testament to the numerous illicit dealings that had tainted its expansive confines.

Despite Halyon Castle's current state of ruin, its past grandeur as the empire's largest fortress couldn't be denied. Raffe suspected that this very room might have once housed Venu's grandest temple. It seemed designed to accommodate multitudes seeking to offer prayers and beseech the revered guidance of Venu.

Now, it was simply a sad pile of rubble.

A sickening dread gripped Raffe, coursing through his bones as he beheld the cages on display, each housing people huddled within—dehumanized, like mere animals.

Raffe winced in disgust.

Men and women, adolescents barely past their youth, and children—resembling Ilya and Juno—recognized Raffe amidst their captivity, calling out his name in desperation. With tear-streaked faces, they cried for help, reaching out with small, outstretched hands. Others who witnessed their reunion wore expressions blending disbelief, relief, and anguish. Some openly wept, while others wore sour expressions as if the arrival of the army amid their dire circumstances was a futile attempt at salvation.

Suppressing his fury, Raffe fought to contain his rage. He knew all too well the danger of allowing it to consume him once more. Yet, against all rational thought, he found himself approaching the children, defying the protests of healers and El Casin soldiers guarding him, driven by an impulse to free them from the blood-stained cages.

Jadel and Risam, entrenched in the grim task of cutting flesh and severing limbs abruptly caught sight of Raffe and he swore that if glares could kill, he was going to have his funeral sooner rather than later. Disregarding their glowering stares, Raffe prioritized the children's plight—they needed immediate attention. Sidestepping the nobles who were being restrained by his men under strict orders not to let any escape, Raffe remained unfazed by their gasps and startled recognition.

Those nobles would soon confront their fates when they faced the Crown's judgment.

While High King Alizade might project an image of gullibility, forgiveness, and naivety, those who believed in such misconceptions suffered far worse consequences than anticipated. Kindness held no place in ruling over ten stubborn kingdoms, and the High King was anything but kind. His ire was not to be provoked, and those foolish enough to incite it learned the harsh reality of his rule.