The Sand Bride - Chapter 28

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When Karzhen stepped out of the temple’s inner chambers, refreshed, dawn had already passed.

In this vast kingdom, both past events and future duties piled high. Though he had mountains of work awaiting him this early, his steps were unhurried. If he were any later, his sister—the other king, Greta—would nag him endlessly. But the secret passage connecting the Aldana Temple to the palace saved time.

Seasoned Aldana priests swiftly guided him, and by the time he reached the palace, the sun had only just risen.

Dressed in light leather sandals, Karzhen moved with a carefree gait. Slaves tending the gardens and cleaning the floors crouched low in recognition, but he ignored them. Only when long-serving attendants greeted him did he nod in acknowledgment.

His disheveled clothes, tangled hair, and the faint mingled scents of sweat and s*x made it obvious what he’d been doing. But those who had served the royal family for years knew better than to comment.

Truthfully, no one in this palace could chastise him for f*****g a woman all night. There were grumblers, but Greta wouldn’t visit his private quarters at this hour.

Besides, even if he dragged Esther into the gardens at noon and ravished her openly, as long as his work was done, Greta wouldn’t care.

Unlike the noble families of Donova and other southeastern nations, Gharyam’s royalty had no patience for excessive elegance or inefficient etiquette.

Of course, they still enforced strict hierarchy and brutal discipline—but it was rooted in pragmatism and survival of the fittest. Gharyam scorned the frivolous customs of weaker nations.

Pathetic. They can’t live without their hollow pretenses. The Kemut people often mocked the cowardice and posturing of southeasterners.

In that sense, Karzhen had expected the escaped captives to seek refuge in the capital rather than brave the desert. Without Kemut blood, crossing the Ring of Hell required extensive preparation.

Anticipating their arrival, Karzhen had immediately ordered their arrest—charged with treason for attempting to assassinate royalty, a crime punishable by horrific means.

They were caught sooner than expected because one of them had tried to sell Karzhen’s sword. The weapons merchant, initially delighted by the gilded scabbard, paled upon seeing the royal insignia on the blade and reported it at once.

Thanks to that, Karzhen received word of their capture shortly after changing clothes. The escapees were imprisoned in the western tower’s underground dungeon—a place so infamous even the Kemut spoke of its horrors.

Those thrown into its depths usually broke instantly, spilling secrets the moment torture began.

The captives were no exception. Trembling like they’d witnessed the worst horrors imaginable, they prostrated themselves, begging for mercy the moment Karzhen and Hakan arrived.

But as Karzhen scanned their faces, he realized one was missing—the woman who had haunted his thoughts.

“Where’s the girl? Did you lock her up somewhere else?”

Hakan shook his head. “No. The soldiers said she wasn’t with them.”

“What?”

Karzhen’s face darkened. He had assumed Esther was the one who tried to sell his sword—only to find it was a man.

When questioned, the captives stayed silent—until the torturer arrived. Then they confessed:

They had sold her to a slave trader who supplied the Aldana Temple.

Karzhen burst into laughter, too amused to even stay angry.

She drugged me—something no one in Gharyam dared—only to get betrayed by her own people and sold back as a temple slave?

It was the most ridiculous farce he’d seen in years.

“Should we contact the temple and imprison her with the others?” Hakan asked flatly.

Karzhen shook his head.

“No.”

A more entertaining idea had come to mind.

“I’ll play with her a little longer before killing her.”

He had spared her, treated her better than the others—only for her to deceive him and run. She deserved punishment. Never mind that escape was her only option; Karzhen didn’t care.

What mattered was the fury—and the unacknowledged sting of betrayal—he’d felt watching her flee. Of all vile emotions, betrayal was the one he despised most. And when Karzhen took revenge, he made sure it matched the filth in his heart.

He would dangle hope before her, torment her thoroughly, and in the end—

Destroy her completely.

His lips curled into a truly cruel smile.