The Tyrant King Broke Me, Now He Wants Me To Be His Queen

“Kill them both!” Prince Bastian’s voice pierced through the murmurs of hundreds of people in the royal courtroom. His father, King Henry Lachthawd, a tyrant that had been ruling the biggest and most powerful kingdom for decades, smiled coyly beside him. This was Bastian’s first time in the court and Henry expected nothing less than for him to assert his authority and prove he will not let the kingdom collapse once he succeeds him. It was the first of many tests that he would be putting him through after training him to be just as cold-hearted and as deeply selfish as he was.

His answer about how to deal with the wife and daughter of the criminal who had just served his death sentence days ago had not failed to please him. He was blushing just thinking about how well he had done with raising Bastian.

“Say it again, my son. Let the perpetrators hear you loud and clear.” King Henry insisted and Bastian inhaled sharply, his gaze wavering between the two women kneeled before him before he broke out a smirk.

“I want them both dead. In fact, I will do it myself. I will kill them with my own hands.” His voice was not even strident but still, the tone held a promise and his face the confirmation that he is not just making a claim. He rose from his designated chair beside his father’s throne and towered over the two women who reeked of fear.

Amelia’s eyes darted to her side to see her mother sobbing quietly. She looked like she had a lot to say but was withholding because she knew it wouldn’t matter to the King nor his son. Sure, her husband had aided the greatest mission with rival kingdoms, aimed at overthrowing and assassinating the king, and yes, the law was very clear when it came to treason- all perpetrators and their families will be killed. Still, Ruth found it deeply unfair that her daughter’s life had to be cut short because her father chose a path he knew would only lead them to this.

She was only eighteen, this was supposed to be the beginning of her life and not its unfair, untimely end.

“It’s okay mother.” Amelia reached for her mother’s hand and squeezed it tightly before she lifted her gaze to look at Bastian in the eyes. He seemed pleased and greatly thrilled by their suffering and it took a lot for Amelia to resist standing and reaching for the first sword she could steal from the palace guards and slice his throat open.

Just a week ago, her mother had managed to sell enough vegetables and handcrafted items in the market to buy meat and a cake for her birthday and Amelia had finally found a reason to smile after being miserable for months. Her happiness definitely didn’t last and if the past few days after her father was captured had taught her anything, it was that life was simply too unfair and God was simply too evil to make hers any better. She had prepared herself to die, she already knew it would be her fate anyway after her father did what he did. After he left her and her mother starving, taking every cent that entered their household and using it to buy out cheap commoners like him who would aid in the mission so he could be given a rank in the presumed new royal palace, she could not believe just how far from his goal he ended up.

In a sense she understood what motivated her father. Living under king Henry’s rule was not for the feeble minded or faint hearted. Putting more than a single meal on the table everyday required an impossible amount of hard work and everyone but the royal family was living in poverty. Maybe her father envisioned a life where a new king is kinder to commoners and his family lives a better life.

However, he had failed, and that meant nothing would change. The life she was used to was not one worth fighting for.

“I will leave you to handle this one, son. Make me proud.” King Henry took his leave, patting his son on the shoulder before walking out of the courtroom and taking his hundreds of personal guards.

“Get out, all of you.” As soon as the doors of the courtroom slammed shut, Bastian spoke out. Amelia and her mother turned to face each other, both clearly frightened and not slightly confused about what was to happen.

Without hesitation, everyone left the prince alone with Amelia and Ruth.

Amelia’s body trembled as her mother squeezed her hand tightly. She looked boldly into Bastian’s eyes and cussed him out mentally, chanting popular curse spells she used to joke around with when she was with her friends, but this time she meant every single thing she was saying. She wanted nothing but for him and the king to die a horrible death.

Bastian pulled out his father’s favorite sword that was always pitched right next to the armrest of his throne.

The sword’s blade hissed as he pulled it out from its sheath before Bastian raised the sword over his head. He smirked proudly as he watched fear engulf them both.

“Who goes first?” He asked, his deep voice so low tuned that the words barely sounded like vibrations bouncing off the walls of the empty courtroom.

“Me!” Amelia rose to her feet, crossing her arms in front of Bastian. His brows arched in pure shock before he chuckled to himself. Before he could question how gutsy she was, Amelia spoke again.

“Kill me now, I’ve already cursed you a thousand times! I’ll pay the gods of dark magic with my life if it means you’ll spend every second of your life in excruciating pain before you die miserably!” Amelia barely took a breath after yelling at the top of her lungs before Bastian’s hand found its way around her throat.

“My prince, please!” Ruth, who had been begging Amelia to shut up just a few seconds ago, crawled on all fours and grabbed Bastian at his ankles.

“Spare my daughter, I beg you!” Ruth pleaded, her lips kissing the leather of Bastian’s shoes.

Bastian only amused the pathetic being below him with his gaze for a second before he kicked his foot, the top of his custom crafted metal and leather combo striking the base of Ruth’s chin, making her land hard on her back.

“Strangle me harder, just end this!” Amelia gasped when Bastian’s grip around her neck slackened. To her surprise, he let her go and turned to her mother instead.

“My prince, you can do whatever you want with her, she is all yours. Just, please…” she sniffled, wiping the blood that was oozing from her nose.

“Please don’t kill her. Please don’t hurt her.”

“Mother, enough! If he is going to kill you, I will kill myself too. What more will I be living for?” Bastian’s jaw clenched, his hind teeth grinding against each other as his gaze darted to Amelia.

She was quite something, wasn’t she? A nuisance that needed to be begging for its life but she was surely getting on his last nerve instead.

If dying was such an easy way out for her, then where would the fun be in killing her right now?

“Is she a virgin?” The question made Amelia jolt, and even more to her surprise, her mother was nodding her head eagerly.

“No man has laid a hand on her, ever! You have my word. I require no dowry for her even though she had many suitors that have made offers purely because of how attractive she is. You can have her if you promise to spare her life!” Ruth bowed in front of Bastian till her forehead was resting on his feet. Her blood left small puddles on his shiny leather before she lifted her head up to gawk at him with pity in her eyes.

Amelia’s stomach churned at the sight and a lump formed in her throat.

“I would rather die!” Amelia whispered to herself as tears streamed from her eyes. Her mother was a woman who lived to keep up appearances and she was the most prideful person she knew after her father. Yet today, she was kissing Prince Bastian’s feet and begging for mercy. She hated to witness her mother reach this kind of low.

“You don’t have a right to die, not until I kill you with my own hands.” Bastian turned to Amelia and smirked as he spoke.

“From now on, your life belongs to me, you belong to me,” he paused for a second and his eyes raked her body from the top of her head and moved down slowly to her bare feet.

“Your body belongs to me.”

“What the f*ck is this? Is this what you call food?” Amelia watched as the plate flew across the room with so much force that it splattered food across all four walls in the dining room before shattering into multiple pieces. Prince Bastian had flung his arm so hard that he created a gust of wind good enough to blow out all of the candles on the table and leave the room slightly darker.

Her hard work, her time spent after sleeping less than two hours, and there it was, splattered across the wall and the floor like eighty percent of this kingdom was not barely scraping by just to put a measly meal on their table.

She swallowed the big lump in her throat.

“My prince, how would you like your food instead? I prepared this meal the same way I prepared yesterday’s dinner and the day before.” Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she tried her hardest to stay polite.

It had been two years now since her mother sold her to the devil h