Chapter 37: Shadows Behind the Crown
The King's chamber, a place painted with power and veiled with unspoken authority, gleamed with dark elegance. Heavy crimson drapes cascaded from the ceiling, brushing against floors carved from obsidian stone. A massive bed stood at the center, its golden frame wrapped in velvet and mystery. Every corner of the room breathed loyalty and menace, like the heartbeat of a kingdom.
King Malrith sat at the edge of his bed, his long fingers wrapped tightly around the throat of a trembling maiden. His fangs pierced her neck, and the room echoed with the faint gasps of her fading life. Her hands clawed weakly at his arm, but he didn't stop—not until the light in her eyes dimmed completely.
He licked the blood from his lips with satisfaction, then tossed her body aside like it meant nothing—like it was no more than a used cloth. It hit the floor with a dull thud.
Seated across the room, Queen Nyara watched the scene with cold eyes and a smirk on her painted lips.
The king raised his head slowly, his crimson eyes locking onto hers.
"What do you want, Nyara?" he asked, his voice calm but edged with threat.
"Am I not allowed to visit my husband?" she said, her tone smooth, but laced with sarcasm.
He narrowed his gaze. He knew that look—his wife's venom always came sweetly.
"You know what I mean, Nyara. What do you want? You didn't see me with a woman, did you?"
Nyara rolled her eyes, standing to walk closer, her heels clicking on the polished floor.
"Oh, my king, I came to talk, that's all," she said sweetly. "I was meaning to tell you something important."
Malrith's expression remained like stone, his voice colder than the northern winds.
"What is it?"
Nyara smiled like a serpent.
"As Queen of the land, I've been thinking deeply. Our children are grown now. It's time to arrange their marriages. All of them."
She paused, then added smoothly, "Since the human princesses are staying in the palace, I thought it would be… fitting to arrange a union between Damier and the Ravena girl."
Malrith stared at her, his face blank at first, then filled with disbelief.
"This is madness, Nyara… You're setting a marriage for Damier?"
"Yes, my king. He's of age, and as his mother, I must ensure—"
The king cut her off sharply, his eyes flashing red.
"Since when did Damier become your son?" he growled. "You hated him."
Nyara tilted her head slightly, her smile widening.
"Hate is such a strong word," she said, her voice soft like silk. "Even when you slept with another woman and brought back a child as your heir, I didn't act out of rage. I didn't plan his death. I'm a calm woman… patient."
Malrith scoffed.
"More like you couldn't do anything about it."
Her smile faded just a little.
"Really, Malrith?" she asked, stepping closer. "You still don't understand. When I say I want him married, it's not just a mother's concern. The high elders respect him ,more than they should."
"So you want him bound to a cursed human?" the king spat. "Damier would never agree."
His voice dropped dangerously. "And what are you truly up to, Nyara?"
Nyara gave a slow shrug.
"Nothing, my king. Though sometimes, I wonder if you fear him…"
Malrith rose from the bed, towering over her, his presence dark and suffocating.
"Careful what you suggest," he warned.
"Then answer me this," Nyara said, meeting his gaze fearlessly. "Why do you follow his every command? Why did you allow a human girl into the palace, not as food, but as company?"
The king's eyes blazed with fury.
"You've overstayed your welcome, Nyara," he said coldly.
She stepped even closer, unafraid.
"But think of it, my lord. Ezryn is engaged. You've allowed that. We cannot let Damier be the last. He is one of us, whether we like it or not. We can't move forward without him."
Malrith's glare deepened.
"It will not happen," he said through clenched teeth. "And if you announce it tonight"
"I will," Nyara interrupted, her voice hardening. "I will say it tonight at the royal dinner."
She turned sharply, her gown sweeping behind her as she exited the chamber. Malrith watched her go, a low growl forming in his throat. He reached for his goblet of wine, took a long, slow sip, and muttered under his breath,
"One day… they'll have your head, Nyara."
the Palace Lake...
The gardens shimmered under the glow of the setting sun. Golden light danced on the lake's surface as gentle breezes stirred the water into ripples. Birds sang softly from the willow trees, and the world felt calm ,for a moment.
Maevor walked down the cobblestone path, dressed in a white cloak embroidered with blue threads. In his hands, he carried a large bouquet of fresh roses, their scent strong and sweet. His golden hair shimmered like fire under the sun.
At the lake's edge stood Solana, her white dress flowing gently, her eyes lost in the waves ,until she saw him.
A smile bloomed on her face.
Maevor's eyes lit up as he approached, bowing slightly. "Hello, beautiful," he said with a soft, teasing grin.
Solana blushed. "Hello, Maevor. It's fancy seeing you again. I thought… maybe you weren't coming back."
He offered her the bouquet. "Of course, I would come back for you."
She took the flowers, inhaling their fragrance. "They're beautiful… thank you."
"How are you?" he asked gently. "How's your heart?"
"It's lighter now," she smiled, then added, "How are your cousins?"
"They'll be arriving tomorrow," he said. "Along with my parents."
"Really?" she looked surprised.
He nodded, then reached out his hand. "May I take a walk with you?"
She placed her hand in his. "Yes."
As they strolled along the lake's edge, Maevor glanced at her. "You know… your eyes… they remind me of the ocean on a full moon night."
Solana blushed again, trying to look away, but his eyes followed her gently.
"Thank you," she murmured, cheeks flushed. "That's sweet."
He squeezed her hand gently. "No, it's true."
They walked in silence for a moment, their hearts warm and soft ,unaware of the storm already gathering inside the palace walls.