Lady Derynn The Daring

The morning sun filtered through the grand dining room windows, casting a golden glow over the long, polished table. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats hung in the air, but for Derynn Rain, the meal before her held little appeal. She sat with perfect poise, her mind a whirl of thoughts while the sounds of clinking silverware filled the silence. The king Vill Zephyrin, the second of his name, sat at the head of the table, his heavy gaze occasionally flicking in her direction.

Beside him, Queen Ralina the king's first wife sat in silence, her cold eyes sweeping over the room, but Derynn paid her no mind. The older woman could glare as much as she wanted, but Derynn had long since stopped caring for her games.

To Derynn's left, Lady Lyra the king's second wife sat quietly, her sharp eyes never missing a beat. She may have been plotting something, but Derynn didn't care enough to waste her energy on what was likely another failed attempt to undermine her.

Across the table, Lady Mira the king's third wife stared into her plate, her mind elsewhere. Derynn had no time for the naive ones, those who thought the king's affection would bring them peace. She saw Mira for what she was—an easily manipulated pawn.

And then there was Lady Evelyn the king's fourth wife, the silent observer, her stillness betraying a mind always at work. Derynn didn't trust her, but she didn't care about the quiet ones, either. Evelyn was just another piece in the king's game, as irrelevant as the others.

The king's voice broke the silence, thick with his usual pretense of authority. "Derynn," he said, as though her attention wasn't already his. "Tell me, what do you think of the state of our kingdom this morning?"

Derynn met his gaze, her expression neutral. "The kingdom is prosperous, Your Majesty. The cities are thriving, and the people remain loyal."

The king smiled, his grin laced with self-satisfaction. "You've always been a sharp one, Derynn. I admire that. But remember, loyalty is just as vital as intelligence."

Derynn's grip tightened around her fork, but she didn't let her expression shift. Loyalty? The word was a joke. Loyalty meant nothing when it was demanded, especially from someone like him. She'd learned long ago how to play the game, how to smile and nod, pretending to care, to be loyal.

But she wasn't fooling herself. She didn't need his approval or anyone's. The others around the table were just obstacles in her way, pawns to be moved when necessary. She had no loyalty to them, and she had no intention of ever caring about their petty rivalries.

Her thoughts quickly shifted to her son—the only thing that truly mattered. He was the future. He was the key to everything. One day, he would take the throne, and she would guide him to create the kingdom she had always dreamed of. But for now, she played her part, sitting at the king's table, hiding the fire inside her.

The king continued to talk, but Derynn's attention wandered, her mind already working through the endless possibilities. She would outlast him, outthink him. In the end, she would have everything she needed—her son on the throne, her enemies at her feet, and a kingdom reshaped in her image.

For now, though, she would pretend.

The conversation droned on, the clinking of forks and the hum of polite chatter filling the room. Then, as expected, Lady Mira spoke up in her soft, naive voice. "Your Majesty, I heard the people whispering about Derynn," she said, her tone light but laced with just enough venom to be a jab.

Derynn's grip tightened on her fork. She didn't need to look at Mira to know exactly where this was going. The woman had always been one to speak out of turn, with no understanding of the weight of her words. She was clearly trying to cause trouble, trying to stir the pot between Derynn and the king.

"They say she's growing more... influential," Lady Mira continued, her eyes glancing over at Derynn with a barely disguised sneer. "Like she's trying to overshadow the rest of us, to take control."

Derynn's patience, already thin, snapped. She shot a look at the king, his eyes half-closed, feigning indifference, as if he didn't care about the petty arguments between his wives. But Derynn knew better. Mira's words were not just an annoyance; they were an insult.

With a controlled breath, Derynn finally spoke, her voice smooth, but laced with a sharp edge. "What a fucking pathetic attempt, Mira. Do you really think anyone at this table believes your nonsense?"

Mira's face flushed, the audacity of Derynn's words catching her off guard. For a moment, there was silence—an awkward, pregnant pause. The other wives exchanged glances, but no one dared intervene.

The king shifted in his seat, but his eyes flicked from Mira to Derynn, a faint smirk curling at the corner of his lips. He enjoyed the drama, the petty squabbles between his wives, as if they were mere entertainment. But Derynn wasn't playing his game. She wasn't going to be the subject of his little amusements any longer.

"You always did like to speak without thinking, didn't you, Mira?" Derynn continued, her tone unbothered, yet her words biting. "You've been in the king's court long enough to understand how things really work. Or maybe you haven't. Maybe you're too busy pretending you're someone important."

Lady Mira opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Queen Ralina's cold voice cut through the tension. "Enough, both of you."

Derynn shot a glance at Ralina, her expression unfazed. The queen may have been the first wife, but Derynn had long outgrown the need to be cowed by her.

The king, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, finally chuckled softly. "It seems we've had enough excitement for breakfast. Let's not ruin the meal with bickering, ladies."

But Derynn's mind was already elsewhere. The little spat had been trivial, but it had fueled the fire inside her even more. She didn't care about Mira's petty insults, nor the king's fake attempts at authority. Her focus was clear: she would keep playing her part, keep pretending, but when the time came, everything would change. She'd make sure of it. As the king stood, the other wives followed suit, rising in unison like trained courtiers. Their eyes flickered toward Derynn, waiting, expecting her to conform to the same ritual.

But Derynn remained seated, unfazed, her gaze fixed ahead. The silence stretched, thick with tension, as the others stared at her—Queen Ralina with narrowed eyes, Lady Lyra with a calculating look, Lady Mira with a quiet sneer, and Lady Evelyn, ever the silent observer. Even the king's eyes lingered, his patience wearing thin.

For a long moment, no one moved. The air was heavy with unspoken words, but Derynn didn't flinch.

Finally, with a slow, deliberate motion, she stood. Her posture was flawless, but the defiance in her movement was unmistakable. She glanced around the table, meeting each gaze with a calm, steady stare before turning toward the king, her expression unreadable.

No one dared speak. Derynn had made her point.