Chapter 5: He needs a Wife!

Chapter 5: He needs a Wife!

The marketplace was alive with color and the rhythmic thrum of foreign voices, as alien vendors and customers haggled in a language Zara only vaguely understood. She wandered through it in awe and hunger, both drawn to and wary of the unfamiliar world around her. The stalls were packed with goods that shimmered under a strange orange sun—a vivid tapestry of shimmering silks, odd, iridescent fruits, and intricate jewelry that seemed almost woven from stardust. Her stomach growled, the pang snapping her back from the curiosity that could easily turn into danger if she didn't keep her wits about her.

At the end of one of the wider pathways, a shadow caught her eye. Two men, clearly guards by their attire but different from the others in their imposing presence, were deep in conversation. Their armor gleamed a dark blue and silver, bearing an insignia she couldn't quite make out, but what caught her attention was how they seemed to make others around them nervous, heads quickly bowing, hands wringing as they passed by. She edged closer, feigning interest in a nearby stall, listening.

"…parents pressuring him," one of the men murmured, his tone almost amused. "The great Caelum, reduced to seeking out a pretend wife to keep them from breathing down his neck about an heir."

"Can't blame him," replied the other, chuckling under his breath. "He'd rather face a thousand rebellions than deal with the royal family meddling in his affairs. But it's not like he's finding anyone worth his time here."

Her heart quickened, and she leaned in closer, drawn by curiosity. The name "Caelum" meant nothing to her, but the words "wife" and "pretend" stuck out. Her survival instincts flared as she put the pieces together. If this king was really that desperate for a distraction for his family, maybe he'd pay well for the trouble.

The guard speaking caught her staring, his golden eyes narrowing. She turned quickly, feigning a sudden fascination with an odd, jelly-like fruit nearby. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the two guards sharing a glance, their eyes lingering a moment too long before returning to their patrol.

As they turned to leave, the first guard muttered, "Imagine if someone unfit overheard. This isn't exactly public knowledge. He'd be furious."

They departed with a swiftness that betrayed how much they'd said. Zara lingered, her mind whirling. Pretend wife? King? She had no clue about this world's politics, but if there was money to be had, she'd find out.

Hours later, as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the city's sprawling stone architecture, Zara found herself cautiously approaching the central building. It was a marvel—a palace unlike anything back on Earth, all tall, arched windows, and crystalline domes that sparkled like giant prisms. The structure was carved into shapes that defied physics, looking at once both ancient and futuristic. She took a breath, fighting the nervous knot in her stomach, and approached the guarded gate.

When she announced herself, explaining she'd heard of a "contract" and "willing candidate," she was met with sharp, scrutinizing glares from the guards, who muttered in their language before they led her down endless corridors. At the end of it, she was instructed to wait in a large hall, its ceiling soaring above her, adorned with celestial murals that seemed to come alive under the flickering lights.

And then he entered.

King Caelum was…not what she'd expected. Tall, with a sleek, lean build that seemed more suited to a warrior than royalty, he moved with an effortless grace. His features were striking—sharp jawline, skin tinged in a faint silver hue that gave him an otherworldly glow, and eyes a fierce, mesmerizing shade of green that could hold anyone's gaze captive. His dark hair fell around his face in waves, framing a piercing look that assessed her with more than just idle curiosity. He radiated authority and intensity, the type that could unsettle anyone, but Zara held her ground, chin raised defiantly.

"You're not what I expected," he said, his voice low and steady, with a hint of something she couldn't quite place. "Tell me why I should consider a…human, for this arrangement."

"I survived an apocalypse, Your Majesty," she replied, not missing a beat, her voice edged with the hardness of someone who'd lost too much. "A temporary marriage contract sounds like paradise by comparison."

He quirked an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing. "So you're looking for survival. What makes you think you'd survive here, with the scrutiny of my family and the weight of my court watching your every move?"

Zara straightened, meeting his gaze directly. "I'm not afraid of scrutiny, and I've got nothing left to lose. Whatever you throw at me, it's nothing compared to what I've already been through."

He didn't smile, but there was a flicker of intrigue in his eyes. "Interesting," he murmured, almost to himself. There was a pause, the silence heavy between them, as he looked her over, noting the stubborn set of her jaw, the faint scars that lined her hands, and the determination in her eyes. This woman was a survivor, through and through.

The contract was unlike anything Zara had ever seen. The terms were outlined in flowing alien script, with Caelum translating the finer points, his tone clipped as though he was daring her to refuse. The first few clauses outlined her role as his temporary wife, appearances at events, specific behaviors to uphold the image. She would be required to join him at all public functions, act as his confidante, and provide the illusion of a genuine partnership. It was simple, really, but the sheer formality made it sound as though she were agreeing to go to war.

"Five months," she repeated, studying him. "What happens after that?"

"You'll be free to go," he replied. "Paid handsomely, with enough resources to build a life in this world, if that's what you choose. Or return to your world, if that's possible. I care little for the aftermath—just that, for these months, you play your role well."

"And if I don't?" she challenged, folding her arms.

For a moment, his gaze turned cold. "Then you'll learn quickly that my generosity has limits."

Something in his tone sent a chill down her spine, but she refused to flinch. This was the closest thing she'd found to safety since she'd arrived, and she wasn't going to let it slip away out of fear.

She signed the document, her fingers trembling slightly as she set down the pen. She'd taken risks before, but this was a gamble with stakes beyond anything she could have imagined.

The contract sealed, Zara was led through the winding corridors of the palace, her footsteps echoing in the stone halls. Though she had always thought herself immune to the charms of opulence, the setting felt like a scene out of a dream—a dream shaded with power and sharp-edged beauty, one where the walls themselves seemed to watch her every move.

Each room she passed was grander than the last, decorated with gleaming silver and dark, polished wood, with murals stretching up to impossibly high ceilings. The air felt thicker here, as if the weight of years and secrets lay heavy around her. She fought the urge to shrink back, reminding herself she was no stranger to hardship. Yet here, surrounded by elegance and power, the stakes were higher. The choices she made in this place could spell the difference between survival and disaster.

The attendants who met her wore expressions of polite indifference, their faces unchanging as they presented her with elaborate gowns and jewelry, each piece more magnificent than anything she'd imagined. One dress in particular, a deep shade of midnight blue adorned with glimmering stones, caught her attention. She was reluctant, at first, to take it. But when she slid into the fabric, it felt like a second skin, almost as though it belonged to another version of herself—a version capable of moving through these halls with confidence, or at least the pretense of it.

With each step forward, she felt the reality of her situation solidify. The contract wasn't just a means of survival; it was an entrance into a world where every action held meaning and every word carried weight. Here, any hint of weakness would be noted, cataloged, and likely exploited. She needed to be more than just Zara. She needed to be unbreakable.

The palace, for all its grandeur, was also a labyrinth,with corners that turned abruptly into halls dimly lit by flickering sconces and empty corridors that seemed to stretch on into darkness. It was here, in the shadows of an empty corridor, that she once again saw him—Caelum's twin. She recognized him instantly from the marketplace, though here he seemed like a different creature entirely.

He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp features softened by the faint light. He looked nearly identical to Caelum, except for a thin, jagged scar that ran down his cheek, an imperfection that only made his face more intriguing. His eyes caught her with a gleam of humor.

"Fancy meeting you here," he drawled, lips curving into a smirk that was equal parts charm and challenge. His voice held a teasing edge, as though he enjoyed watching her navigate this world, a strange amusement in his gaze as he took in her attire.

Zara didn't break eye contact. "I'm starting to think that eavesdropping might be a family trait."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, replaced almost immediately by laughter. "Well, that's a bold accusation," he said, eyes dancing with mirth. "But let's just say I'm curious about my brother's newest... acquisition. It's not every day Caelum lets someone so close to his throne, especially someone so... unconventional."

There was an underlying tension in his words, something Zara couldn't quite place. She could sense it, though, in the way he watched her, as if assessing how much she understood about the world she'd stepped into. She matched his gaze, refusing to look away.

"Maybe he wanted a change," she replied, the edge in her voice unmistakable. "And maybe you should mind your own business."

The twin's smirk only widened. He gave a low, mocking bow, the gesture exaggerated yet oddly graceful. "As you wish, milady. Just remember," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur, "this isn't a game you're playing. The palace has a way of chewing up and spitting out the unprepared."

With that, he melted back into the shadows, leaving Zara standing alone. She felt a chill snake down her spine, an unsettling reminder of how much she didn't know about the intricacies of this world—and the web of secrets surrounding Caelum's court.