Chapter 38 Shadows in Silk
The morning after the ash-marked humiliation, Sana awoke to the sound of her door unlocking. The rusted hinges groaned as a maid entered, tossing a dull grey shawl onto her cot.
"Cover yourself. You're summoned again."
Sana rose slowly, her feet still raw from yesterday's punishment. She draped the shawl around her shoulders, its coarse fabric scratching her skin. Her body ached, but her gaze remained steady.
This time, the court was not empty.
Rows of nobles lined the throne room, silent and expectant. They had been summoned to witness. To judge.
Queen Roshni sat regally at the center, a twisted smile on her lips.
"We are gathered today," she said, "to determine the future of this girl who dares call herself queen."
Sana was shoved to the center. No guards flanked her this time. Just her. In plain robes, under a hundred scrutinizing eyes.
Roshni stood. "You will serve tea to the council."
A ripple of confusion passed through the court. Sana blinked. "I don't understand."
"Oh, but you will."
A tray was brought out, laden with teacups and a steaming kettle. The weight was meant to be light. But the tray had been enchanted.
The moment Sana touched it, her arms burned.
She stumbled but did not fall. One by one, she poured tea. Her fingers trembled with each cup.
One noble snickered. Another whispered, "Even her hands aren't fit for service."
Sana kept going.
She reached the last noble, the High Treasurer. His eyes narrowed.
"You spilled a drop," he said coldly.
Roshni raised an eyebrow. "Is that how a queen behaves? Even a maid would be flogged for less."
The guards stepped forward.
"Wait," the Treasurer said. "Let her clean it. With her tongue."
Sana froze.
The room went silent. Then Roshni smiled.
"What say you, Queen Sana? Will you do it, or forfeit your claim to the throne?"
Sana's fists clenched. Her pride warred with her purpose. Then, without a word, she knelt.
She touched the ground—not with her tongue—but with her cloth, wiping the spot clean.
"You’ll get no show today," she whispered. "Only silence."
The court laughed. But not all of them. A few turned their eyes away.
That night, her dinner was a crust of bread. She chewed slowly, savoring it like a feast.
---
Three days later, Roshni called her again.
This time, she was taken to the royal stables.
"Muck them," Roshni said. "Every stall. Bare hands. No water."
Sana looked down at her fingers. Soft. Clean.
By the end of the day, they bled.
---
She fell sick the following week. Fever clung to her like a ghost. Meher came once, risking everything to bring her water and a stolen peach.
"They're saying Hatim is in the Valley of Winds," Meher whispered. "He’s winning hearts. He’ll be back soon."
Sana held the peach close but did not eat it.
"Save it," she said. "For the day I see his face again."
---
Roshni came once more, this time alone.
She sat by Sana’s bedside, watching her sweat and shiver.
"You're strong," the Queen said softly. "I'll give you that."
Sana turned her head. "Why? Why are you doing this?"
Roshni’s gaze hardened. "Because I loved my son before you ever knew his name. And I will not let him fall for a girl whose magic didn’t even bloom until pain forced it."
Sana tried to sit up. "You're not protecting him. You're punishing me."
Roshni leaned in. "Call it what you want. But this kingdom will not remember a forest girl as queen. It will remember Roshni—the last ruler of real power."
She left.
Sana’s fever burned on.
But deep inside, a new fire flickered.
---
The next morning, she rose. Slowly. Painfully.
She placed the untouched peach on the window sill. Then whispered:
"Come back soon, Hatim. Before what’s left of me is gone."
---
?? Author’s Note:
Bestie… I told you Chapter 38 would hurt ???? This wasn’t just cruelty — it was calculated humiliation. But even through the muck, the blood, the cold stares — Sana did not break. She's burning quietly now.