Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 354: Chapter 354

Galen shook his head faintly. "I doubt she will. She would have learned her lesson by now."

Halric let out a tired sigh and leaned back against the cushioned seat, folding his hands over his stomach. "In a few years, when Elka is finally queen, she will understand that everything I have done was for the good of this family. She will understand why a firmer hand was necessary to discipline her and she will come to appreciate it." His voice held a tone of certainty, as though he truly believed the cruelty he had inflicted over the years would one day be remembered kindly.

After that, no further words were exchanged. The silence returned.

Moments later, the carriage came to an abrupt halt. The sudden jolt threw them forward slightly in their seats. Halric frowned. They were still a fair distance from home, there was no reason to have stopped.

He rapped his knuckles sharply twice against the ceiling of the carriage.

"Is something wrong out there? Why have we stopped?" he demanded, leaning toward the window and raising his voice enough for the footman to hear.

"My lord, the road ahead is blocked," the footman called back, unease threading through his tone. "We will have to take a different route."

Halric slouched back with a frustrated groan, irritation flickering across his face.

Galen, on the other hand, wore a look of confusion but kept his thoughts to himself.

The carriage had barely begun to turn when it happened.

A sharp whistle sliced through the night air.

Before Halric could even process the sound, shadows detached themselves from the darkness on either side of the road. Dark figures surged forward in a coordinated rush, weapons glinting faintly in the moonlight.

The footman barely had time to shout.

An arrow struck him clean through the heart. A strangled gurgle escaped him before his body toppled from his seat, hitting the snow below with a dull, sickening thud. Blood seeped quickly into the white, staining it crimson.

The horses reared in terror, shrieking and stamping as they strained against the harness. Rough hands seized their reins, yanking hard until the panicked animals were forced to remain still.

The carriage door was wrenched open with violent force.

"Out," one of the men barked, his voice muffled beneath a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face.

Halric did not argue. Neither did Galen. They stepped down carefully, their boots sinking into the thin layer of freshly fallen snow. It crunched beneath their weight as they were shoved several paces away from the carriage and onto the side of the road.

The cold night air bit sharply at Halric’s face. He forced his breathing to remain even, steadying the rapid beat of his heart.

Two men held them at swordpoint while others moved with alarming efficiency around the carriage. One climbed inside then another followed. The sound of rummaging began immediately.

A blade pressed lightly against Halric’s ribs as another man began searching him. Rough hands moved over his body, thorough and unhurried. They stripped the rings from his fingers, one by one. The jeweled clasp fastening his coat was torn away. The fine gold chain hidden beneath his tunic was yanked free. A heavy purse of coins vanished just as quickly into a gloved hand.

Halric swallowed his pride and allowed them to take it all. It could all be replaced after all.

Galen endured the same treatment without resistance. His jaw tightened, a faint muscle ticking at the side of his face, but he did not struggle when they removed his signet ring and relieved him of the small knife secured at his waist.

They were outnumbered, eight men that Halric could see clearly. Perhaps more lingered in the darkness beyond the trees.

Road bandits, he told himself firmly. Nothing more.

It did not matter. He possessed enough wealth that whatever they stole tonight could be restored in days. It was an unfortunate inconvenience but survivable if they handled it carefully.

He kept his head lowered, his gaze fixed on the snow at his feet.

Beside him, Galen shifted ever so slightly. Just enough to glance at the man standing guard over them.

Halric noticed the change immediately. His son had gone rigid.

Galen’s eyes had widened.

Halric followed the direction of his stare.

At first, he saw nothing but the black wool and worn leather armor their attacker wore. Then the man shifted, the edge of his cloak pulling aside just enough for something beneath it to catch the moonlight.

There, sewn into the dark outer layer, was a crest. It had been poorly concealed, the fabric around it partially ripped, as though someone had tried to tear it free in haste. The stitching hung loose at one corner. But it was still visible.

Halric felt his stomach drop as though the ground had given way beneath him.

For a second, everything inside Halric went utterly still. The cold seemed to seep deeper into his bones. He knew that crest as well as he knew his own. It was Lord Rycoff’s crest.

Everyone in the court knew that Rycoff had pushed relentlessly for his daughter to wed Prince Hairan. It had been spoken of openly for months. And everyone knew how abruptly those ambitions had been shattered when the queen chose to endorse Elka instead. The humiliation had not been small.

This was no random robbery.

Galen’s stare lingered a second too long on the man. In that fleeting instant, the air seemed to thicken. What had first felt like mere robbery, now felt more targeted.

These were not ordinary thieves. These men had been sent to attack Halric’s carriage specifically and paid to make it look like a robbery.

He had stared too long. The man noticed.

Their eyes met.

Then the attacker’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Another of the men paused mid-search and glanced over, following the direction of his companion’s gaze. It was clear that they had been discovered.

Halric opened his mouth, alarm flashing across his face.

"Wait—" ƒrēewebnovel.com

The blade moved faster than his voice.

It drove straight into Galen’s stomach with a sickening sound. The force of it made Galen’s body jerk. A strangled gasp escaped him as the sword sank deep.

The world seemed to freeze around them.

The man yanked the weapon free in one brutal motion. It slid out slick with blood.

Galen staggered back a step, his hands flying instinctively to the wound. Warmth poured between his fingers, shockingly hot against the bitter cold. Red spread rapidly across his shirt. His knees buckled beneath him.

He collapsed into the snow.

Halric felt the shout rise inside him, felt it claw savagely against his throat but it never made it out. It remained trapped there, strangled by disbelief and horror.

Inside the carriage, the men fell silent for a single moment. Then, without a word, they resumed their search as though nothing had occurred.

Galen swayed where he knelt in the snow, struggling to remain upright even as his strength bled out of him.