NTR: King gets Cucked-Chapter 12: A Wife’s Guilt, A King’s Faith

A day or two had passed since the private gathering, yet Althea still felt the lingering effects of that night. The weight of Karlos's presence, his words, his touch—it all haunted her, even in the daylight.

The air in the royal chambers was thick with unease as Althea stared at the dress laid across her bed. The black silk shimmered under the candlelight, golden embroidery tracing sinuous patterns along the fabric. It was breathtaking— and utterly indecent. The neckline plunged daringly low, leaving much of her cleavage on display, while the high slits along both legs threatened to bare more than was appropriate for a queen.

Beside it sat a small, elegantly crafted box. Inside, a sapphire necklace gleamed, its deep blue radiance matching her eyes.

A letter lay beside it, penned in a smooth, confident hand.

Wear this tonight. I insist.

No signature was necessary. She knew who it was from.

Althea clenched her hands into fists. She should refuse. She should burn the dress and shatter the necklace. But Karlos had been... generous. He had aided Draconia when no one else did. To refuse a simple request—no, a demand—might stir questions. Could she afford that risk? Could she afford his displeasure?

A knot of unease settled in her stomach as she reached for the dress.

⸻

The grand banquet hall buzzed with conversation and laughter, filled with the nobility of Draconia and foreign dignitaries. Advisors Ian and Alex were seated near the head of the table, deep in discussion over trade agreements, while Viceroy Durin watched the gathering with his usual smug amusement. Karlos, ever the commanding presence, sat beside him, sipping his wine as he awaited his prize for the night.

Then she entered.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

The chatter dimmed. Eyes turned to her—some admiring, others scandalized. Althea walked with practiced grace, but she felt the weight of every gaze crawling across her exposed skin. The fabric clung to her curves, the high slits revealing long, elegant legs with each step. The sapphire necklace sat heavy around her neck, a symbol of her entanglement with the man who gifted it.

Karlos smirked as she approached the table, standing to pull out her chair with exaggerated politeness. "A vision," he murmured as she sat. "If only your dear husband were here to see how radiant you look tonight."

Althea stiffened but said nothing. She felt his presence looming beside her, his fingers ghosting over the bare skin of her shoulder before he finally sat down.

From across the table, Viceroy Durin let out a quiet chuckle. "My queen, you certainly have a bold sense of fashion," he said, swirling his wine. "A daring choice for a royal banquet. But then again, perhaps you wish to make an impression. After all, Draconia must be remembered for something... now that it no longer rules itself."

A few nobles exchanged glances, some stifling amused smiles. Althea's hands curled in her lap, shame prickling beneath her skin.

"Power is not only found in governance, my lord," Karlos interjected smoothly, placing his goblet down. His hand casually brushed Althea's thigh beneath the table. "It can be found in influence, in alliances... in knowing one's worth."

She flinched at the contact, but Karlos did not remove his hand. Instead, his fingers traced idle circles against her skin, a silent reminder of his control.

Nyra, seated beside Ian, shifted uncomfortably. She had been watching Althea closely, noticing the tension in her shoulders, the way she avoided meeting anyone's eyes. Nyra's fingers tightened around her own goblet, but she remained silent, unsure of what she was witnessing—only that something felt terribly wrong.

Zyran should be here. He should see this. But he was far away, tending to conflicts in the eastern territories, unaware of what was happening in his own court.

The feast continued, but for Althea, every moment felt like an eternity. She swallowed her shame, her guilt, and endured—because what else could she do?

Drucila was absent from the banquet, as expected. Perhaps it was for the best. Her twin sister's sharp gaze would have noticed everything immediately.

And Althea wasn't sure she could endure another set of judging eyes.