Episode 64 — When Kings Bend or Break
The mill lay quiet but for Aria's labored breaths and the soft hiss of wind sneaking through broken windows. Raian's pulse thundered louder than the river beyond, each beat a vow he couldn't speak aloud.
Then, from outside, came the tread of boots — slow, measured, too calm to be anyone but Malik's own men.
Saira's head lifted, shoulders tensing despite blood still seeping through her bandages. Tariq paused mid-motion, needle hovering over Aria's skin.
Raian's hand fell to the pistol at his belt, breath catching in raw, cracked ribs. But even before the door opened, he knew: brute force wouldn't save them now.
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A tall man ducked into the dim light, rainwater trailing down his fine black kurta. His eyes, dark as a starless night, swept the room — past Saira, past Tariq — and locked onto Raian.
"King," he drawled, voice as smooth as poison in wine. "How far you've fallen."
Raian forced himself upright, pain shrieking through torn flesh. "Haleem," he rasped, recognizing Malik's trusted envoy. "Come to finish me yourself?"
Haleem smiled, cold and sharp. "No need. Malik wants words, not blood — for now."
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Raian's gaze flicked briefly to Aria, lying too still under bloodstained cloth. The cost of every breath she took weighed heavier than any crown.
"What words?" Raian asked, voice low.
"Malik offers mercy," Haleem said, as though reading a market price. "Surrender. Return to your rightful place. The girl lives — as does the rest of your traitor flock."
"And if I refuse?" Raian's voice was iron, but his pulse betrayed him.
"Then," Haleem murmured, eyes glancing toward Aria, "she dies. Slowly. And your kingdom burns with her."
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Saira, leaning against the crates, spat blood on the dusty floor. "You think he'll kneel to Malik? You don't know him."
"I know exactly what love does to men," Haleem countered, gaze never leaving Raian. "It breaks them. Or binds them."
Raian's breath caught. The words twisted like a blade in his chest — because he knew they were true. Love had made him softer. And for her, he'd already bled deeper than for any crown.
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"What does Malik really want?" Raian rasped.
"Your loyalty," Haleem said quietly. "Your name. Step back into the shadows beside him, and all this ends."
"And if I do?" Raian pressed, voice cracking. "She walks free?"
"Alive and unharmed," Haleem promised. "But cross him — and he'll take more than her blood. He'll take her hope. Her mind. Until nothing of her remains."
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Raian's jaw tightened, ribs throbbing with every ragged breath. Behind him, Tariq's needle stilled; even Saira held her silence, eyes fixed on him.
He thought of Aria's laugh echoing across rain-slicked rooftops. Of her trembling hands holding his wounds closed. Of how she'd said, voice shaking, "Because you're my patient. And because…"
And the words she hadn't spoken: Because I care.
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Haleem watched him, eyes dark with satisfaction. "Choose, Raian. Kneel — or bury her."
Raian's chest rose, breath trembling with grief and rage. "Tell Malik," he rasped, voice rough as stone, "I'll come."
Saira's head snapped toward him, horror twisting her face. "Raian—!"
"I'll come," he repeated, louder, so even the walls heard. "But she walks free. Untouched. That's the price."
Haleem inclined his head, satisfaction coiling in his gaze. "Then dawn tomorrow. The old train yard."
---
As Haleem turned to leave, Raian called after him, voice raw. "If he breaks his word, Haleem, I'll burn his kingdom stone by stone."
Haleem paused at the door, half-smiling. "Pray you never have to."
Then the echo of boots faded into rain and ruin.
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Silence crashed back into the mill. Saira pushed herself from the crate, face pale with fury. "You can't," she rasped. "You can't go back to him."
"If I don't," Raian whispered, voice breaking, "she dies."
"She wouldn't want you to," Saira shot back, shoulders shaking. "She'd rather bleed out on this floor than see you kneel."
"I know," Raian murmured, breath ragged. His gaze fell to Aria's still form, her lashes dark crescents against ash-pale skin. "But she doesn't get to choose this time. I won't watch her die."
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Tariq's quiet voice cut through the hush. "If you do this, Raian, there's no turning back."
Raian's eyes lifted, haunted but resolute. "There never was."
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He dropped to his knees beside Aria, fingers brushing damp hair from her forehead. Her skin felt too cold, breath so shallow it barely stirred the cloth on her chest.
"I promised I'd protect you," he whispered, voice breaking into a thousand ragged edges. "Even from myself."
His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, a memory already turning to ache. "I don't care about thrones, Aria. But I can't bury you. I won't."
---
Outside, dawn crept closer, painting rusted walls in faint bruised light. With every breath, the promise hardened inside him: if saving her cost him his soul, so be it.
But Malik had forgotten one truth:
Raian might bend for love — but he would never truly break.
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Teaser for Episode 65:
As the train yard meeting draws near, Saira begs Raian to choose freedom over chains — while Aria drifts between life and memory, haunted by shadows of her own.