Thoris's breath hitched in his throat.
The low, velvet command echoed off the polished marble pillars of the hall, cold and unyielding. For a fraction of a second, the ancient, ingrained instincts of a Madurai royal warrior rebelled—a sharp, instinctive impulse to stand tall, raise his head, and refuse to bow before anyone.
Then his eyes met Adrian's.
There was no warmth in those blue eyes. There was no lingering affection, no fear, and no sorrow. There was only a quiet, absolute distance. Looking up at Adrian dressed in pristine white and gold, Thoris saw the full truth of what he had destroyed. He had not just lost a bride; he had tried to crush a prince, only to be left behind in the mud while that prince reclaimed his birthright.
The hesitation vanished from Thoris's body, replaced by a sudden, crushing wave of shame.
Slowly, painfully, Thoris leaned forward. His weakened, gaunt body trembled violently under the strain as he bent his spine, lowering his head until his forehead pressed firmly against the polished leather of Adrian's boot.
*THUD.*
The heavy collar around Thoris's neck clanked against the stone floor. Tears spilled from his sunken eyes, soaking into the leather beneath his brow, but he did not pull away.
"My... My Lord..."
Thoris's voice scraped out of his dry throat, broken and muffled against the floor.
"I am... yours to command..."
Adrian stood perfectly still, looking down at the former Great Warrior of the Iron Steppes trembling at his feet. A month ago, this man had towered over him, striking him without a second thought and treating his life like a plaything. Now, the proudest brute of the Eastern Continent was reduced to a weeping servant in the heart of the imperial palace.
A small, quiet breath escaped Adrian's lips—the lingering weight that had suffocated his chest for weeks finally loosening its grip.
"Remember this feeling, slave,"
Adrian said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet hall.
"Every time you look at me, every time you sweep my floors or carry my burden, remember that you are here because I permitted you to live."
Adrian slowly drew his foot back. Thoris remained frozen on his knees, his forehead still pressed to the cold marble floor, unable to lift his gaze.
"Get up,"
Adrian commanded, turning his back on him and walking toward the grand staircase.
"You have work to do in my quarters."
*****
The grand private quarters of Prince Adrian were no longer wrapped in dark velvet and shadows. The heavy curtains were drawn back every morning, flooding the vast rooms with brilliant, unforgiving sunlight.
And in that light, Thoris served.
He was given the lowest, most grueling tasks within the prince's estate. He carried heavy buckets of water up the winding stone towers, scrubbed the cold stone hearths until his hands bled, and tended to the outer courtyard in the biting morning chill.
Palace servants and lower guards, who had once feared the reputation of the Madurai tribe, openly mocked him as he carried out his duties. They shoved past him in the corridors, deliberate in their disrespect, knowing the barbarian slave was forbidden from retaliating.
Thoris took every insult without a word. He kept his head bowed, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor whenever anyone passed.
The hardest part of his punishment was not the physical labor, nor was it the mockery of the staff. It was being in the same room as Adrian.
Whenever Thoris was summoned to clean the private study or serve tea, Adrian never spoke to him beyond brief, cold commands and a few whippings. Adrian treated him like a ghost—an object that existed only to perform a function, disappear back into the shadows, and later take a whipping until he bled.
With Thoris kept firmly under his heel, Adrian's transformation progressed rapidly.
The pale, hollow look in his face vanished, replaced by the healthy, vibrant grace of an imperial prince. He began attending official court gatherings beside Emperor Cedric and Cassian, walking through the grand halls with his head held high, completely ignoring the stunned whispers of the nobility who had once gossiped about his downfall.
One afternoon, Cassian stepped into Adrian's study, holding a set of official documents regarding the southern territories.
Cassian stopped near the doorway, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed Thoris kneeling near the far wall, silently scrubbing the marble rim of the fireplace. The former warrior looked thin and hollow, his hands calloused and raw, moving with quiet, mechanical obedience.
Cassian walked over to the main desk, where Adrian was casually reading through a scroll.
"Father wants your input on the Harvest Banquet arrangements,"
Cassian said softly, placing the scroll on the table. He glanced sideways at Thoris before looking back at his older brother.
"Are you truly comfortable having him in your quarters, Adrian? If he ever becomes a nuisance, I can have Lucien—"
"...I mean the imperial guards move him to the outer barracks."
Cassian cleared his throat, suddenly remembering that Lucien was no longer at his side flanking him.
Adrian looked up from his scroll, his expression calm and unbothered. He didn't even turn his head toward the man scrubbing the hearth.
"He isn't a nuisance, Cassian,"
Adrian replied, his voice smooth and steady.
"He is useful. Seeing him on his knees every morning reminds me that he no longer has any power over my life."
In the corner of the room, Thoris's hand froze for a single second against the stone hearth. His chest ached with a sharp, hollow pain, but he quickly forced himself to keep scrubbing, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Cassian observed Adrian for a long moment, seeing the genuine, unshakeable confidence in his brother's eyes. A faint, proud smile touched Cassian's lips.
"Very well then,"
Cassian said gently, patting Adrian's shoulder.
"As long as it brings you peace. That's all that matters."
With that, Cassian turned on his heel and left the quarters.
"Did you see that, slave?"
Adrian said softly to the room once the door closed, his voice cold as ice as he looked over at the kneeling man.
"The man you ruined your life for doesn't even bat an eye toward you. Truly, you have been nothing but a fool."
*****