Araya and Margarida reunion

Time passed slowly. I paced the room, breathing shallowly, my hands clenched into fists. With each minute that dragged by, the anxiety burned deeper.

Will she accept? Or will she laugh at the invitation and ignore me?

Memories of betrayal burned like embers. I relived the moment Margarida ordered my capture, when the other heroes turned their backs on me. The bitter taste of humiliation was still fresh in my mouth.

After hours of waiting, the doorknob turned. The door opened, and Oliver walked in. His usual smile seemed full of triumph.

"She accepted and is coming here tonight," Oliver said almost celebratoryly.

My heart raced. I gripped the edge of the table to keep from shaking.

"Bring her to me. No matter what," I told him.

Oliver just nodded theatrically and left again.

The sun disappeared below the horizon, and the barracks fell silent, broken only by nervous footsteps and the distant murmur of slaves. Until a distinct sound echoed, and the front door slammed shut.

She arrived.

I straightened my posture, forcing myself to take a deep breath. I felt sweat trickle down the back of my neck, but I couldn't show weakness now.

“Oliver, bring Daisy here,” I murmured.

The merchant disappeared down the corridor, and soon after I heard muffled voices. I recognized Margarida's arrogant timbre, firm and authoritative, in contrast to Oliver's soft, sycophantic tone.

With each word they said, my body stiffened even more. I could almost hear my heart pounding in my ears.

The bedroom doorknob turned slowly. The door creaked open, and then she stepped inside.

Princess Margaret.

Her luxurious dress looked out of place in that damp, dark place. Her ice-blue eyes immediately fixed on me, widening at the sight of my forehead.

— You… — Margarida whispered in disbelief.

"You don't have the mark?!" Margarida asked, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Her voice cut through the air. For a moment, the silence was heavy as a blade.

She turned to Oliver, who was still in the doorway.

"What does this mean? Explain yourself!" asked Margarida.

But Oliver just smiled, bowed slightly, and without saying anything, closed the door behind her. The click echoed like a verdict.

Now it was just the two of us.

Me and Princess Margaret.

The one responsible for my downfall.

And the fire of revenge burned in my eyes.

I felt the corner of my mouth curl into a smile. Finally, after so long, Princess Margaret stood before me, alone and vulnerable.

She, even though distressed, raised her chin and returned the smile, forced, full of arrogance.

"Leaving me alone with you is foolish of you, Araya . My fighting power is far greater than yours. If I wanted to, I could finish you right here," Margarida said firmly.

I let out a long, ironic laugh that echoed through the stuffy room.

— Hahahaha ! Of course I already knew that, princess. So I had a plan. — I told her.

I approached slowly, my smile now filled with venom.

"This entire barracks, every cell and every slave, is under my control. If even a single sound of battle echoes from here… Oliver will free them all," I said as I leaned forward, looking deep into her eyes.

"And I couldn't control all the slaves at once, you know? They could tear you apart like starving animals," I told her.

Margarida's face changed. The rigidity of pride gave way to an involuntary tremor. Anger and fear mingled in her blue eyes.

“You… dare threaten me…?” Margarida murmured, but her voice no longer held the same firmness.

I reached up and ran my finger along my chin, pretending to think.

"So, princess, what's your choice? Would you rather become my slave for the power of the mark... or for the pleasure of the Slimes I copied?" My voice was laced with irony.

The silence was heavy. Margarida's breathing was rapid, but her gaze was sharp. Then suddenly, she did something that caught me by surprise.

With slow but firm movements, Margarida raised her hands to the lace of her dress. Her delicate fingers tugged at the ribbon, and the fabric began to loosen.

My eyes widened. For a moment, I didn't know how to react.

“What… are you doing?” I asked suspiciously.

Margarida smiled, but this time her smile was strange, as it was a mixture of provocation and challenge.

"You said I would have to choose, didn't you?" His voice sounded soft, almost like a venomous whisper.

The air grew thick. For a second, my cold, calculated plan clashed with her unexpected attitude.

The ribbon slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. The fabric of her dress loosened, revealing more of the princess's white skin. She took two slow steps toward me, her eyes fixed on mine, her smile enigmatic.

"You think you've cornered me, Araya ... but you don't understand me at all," Margarida said in a low, honeyed voice, filled with false vulnerability.

My body stiffened, instinctively on guard, but my mind was confused. The Margarida I knew was cruel, cold, arrogant… but now, before me, she seemed to wear a different mask.

“If you free the slaves… they’ll tear me apart,” she continued , moving even closer.

"If you mark me… I'll be your slave." Her smile widened. "But… what if I want to be your ally?" she asked .

Her breath fanned my face. Her sweet perfume mingled with the scent of fear and desperation. She leaned forward, her dress sliding further down her shoulder, exposing even more.

— Think carefully, Araya … — Margarida whispered, sliding her fingers along her collarbone.

— You hate me, and I know why. But hate is one thing… power is another. I'm a princess. I have influence. Money. Armies. You could use all of this against the heroes who betrayed you.

I stood frozen for a moment, my chest burning with anger as my mind recognized the twisted logic of the proposal.

Margarida touched her fingertips to my chest, her expression sweet, but her eyes cold as razors.

— What do you prefer, Araya ? — said Margarida in a venomous whisper.

— Turn me into your slave… or turn your greatest enemy into a lover and accomplice? — asked Margarida

My heart pounded like a drum. Part of me wanted to carve the mark into her forehead and laugh at the terror she pretended to hide. But another part… knew the princess was trying to turn the tables, manipulate me, seduce me.

With every second, the room filled with suffocating tension.