NTR: King gets Cucked-Chapter 11: The First Step into Darkness

The Drakestone Castle loomed over the city like an unshakable titan, its towering walls carved from the dark gray stone of the surrounding hills. Perched atop the highest point of Drakestone, the fortress commanded an unrivaled view of the vast kingdom beyond. It was an ancient stronghold, a testament to the might of Draconia, its architecture both awe-inspiring and daunting.

The castle was divided into four grand wings, each serving a distinct purpose. The central wing was the heart of the stronghold, housing the Great Hall, the Council Chamber, and the Throne Room, where the king held court and dictated the fate of his realm. This section bustled with courtiers, nobles, and officials, its towering stone pillars and intricate stained-glass windows casting shifting patterns of light across the polished marble floors.

To the left wing, the castle's scholars and strategists gathered. This wing contained the library, a vast archive of Draconia's history and knowledge, along with various strategy rooms, where generals and commanders discussed military affairs. It was a place of study and war-planning, where candlelight flickered against maps of the kingdom spread over ornate tables.

The right wing served as the living quarters for the kingdom's key figures—the advisors, viceroy, and high-ranking officials each had their own lavish floors, complete with private chambers and antechambers for their attendants. At the ground level of this wing lay the Advisor's Hall, a grand chamber where gatherings and discreet political dealings took place. Its walls were lined with heavy tapestries, and its grand chandeliers cast a warm glow over the polished oak floors. Here, secrets were exchanged, alliances forged, and betrayals whispered in hushed tones.

Behind the central wing, connected by a winding stone corridor, stood the royal chambers and the royal living quarters. Between them and the main structure lay the royal garden, a lush, enclosed oasis hidden within the fortress. The air here was always thick with the scent of blooming roses, jasmine, and rare flowers imported from distant lands. It was a place of solace for the queens, shielded from the eyes of the court by tall hedges and marble fountains that gurgled softly under the moonlight.

The basement levels housed the servant and guard quarters, as well as the vast kitchens that supplied the entire castle. The smell of roasting meat and freshly baked bread always lingered in the air, mingling with the clang of pots and the hurried footsteps of those who toiled to keep the castle running.

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Althea hesitated as she read the invitation again. Karlos had extended a personal invitation to both her and Nyra for an exclusive noble gathering. It was to be held in the Advisor's Hall, a place she rarely ventured, as it was often where men like Karlos and Ian worked their influence over the kingdom's affairs.

"This is merely another political engagement," she reassured herself. "Nothing more."

And yet, the growing familiarity of Karlos's gestures, the way his presence pressed ever closer, gnawed at her thoughts.

That evening, the halls of the right wing pulsed with a quiet, refined decadence. Nobles draped in silk and velvet lounged with goblets of rich wine, their laughter soft but knowing. Flickering candlelight bathed the polished floors in a golden hue, the towering windows offering a glimpse of the moonlit city below.

Nyra, ever the quiet observer, found herself engaged in conversation with the castle's sorcerer, an ancient, white-bearded man draped in deep blue robes. His knowledge of the arcane intrigued her, his cryptic words pulling her further from Althea's side.

Althea stood near the edge of the gathering, wishing she could blend into the marble walls. But Karlos had other plans.

"My lady," his voice purred beside her, startling her slightly. Before she could respond, he held out an ornate box, its deep crimson velvet lined with gold embroidery.

She hesitated, but refusing a gift in such a setting would be unseemly. With careful fingers, she lifted the lid.

A breathtaking necklace of deep sapphire and gold lay within, the gemstones glistening under the candlelight. Gasps and murmurs of approval spread through the gathered nobles.

Karlos smiled. "Allow me."

Before she could protest, he stepped closer, taking the necklace and moving behind her. His fingers, firm and confident, brushed against her bare skin as he fastened the delicate chain around her neck. His touch lingered—longer than necessary.

The gathered audience watched with thinly veiled interest. Whispers flitted through the room, their meaning clear.

Althea's pulse quickened. She knew what this looked like. She knew what Karlos was doing. Yet to push him away would create a scandal of its own. She stood still, her breathing shallow.

Across the room, Ian leaned against a stone pillar, his expression unreadable—except for the slight, knowing smirk curving his lips.

The first step had been taken.

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And with the king absent, the game unfolded unchecked.