Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 394: Chapter 394

The assassin had barely changed. The same features, the same hollow eyes, the same thin scar running along the edge of his jaw.

Ragnar felt his hands slowly curl into fists.

But he was not the only one caught off guard.

Hairan’s eyes widened for the briefest second when he recognized the bound man. The reaction was subtle, so fleeting that most would have missed it entirely.

Yet just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

His expression smoothed over again, his usual mask sliding back into place.

When Ragnar managed to pull himself back under control, he realized Arik was already watching him.

"Your Highness," Arik said, regarding him with grim determination, "you are the only one who can tell us what truly happened that night my sister was killed. So please, speak the truth when addressing the court, and tell us if you recognize this man from that night."

Ragnar held the assassin’s gaze for a long moment before slowly nodding.

"I do," he said. "He was one of the assassins who broke into my bedchambers and attacked my wife and I." Ragnar’s eyes darkened as he spoke the next words. "He was the one who stabbed Luria."

Content with the response, Arik turned back toward the king, whose expression had grown noticeably grimmer. If there was one thing King Zeriel despised above all else, it was being publicly challenged.

"Your Majesty," Arik continued, gesturing toward Ragnar, "you heard it yourself. Those words came directly from the prince’s mouth." Then he turned his full attention to the captured assassin kneeling on the floor before the throne.

Arik lifted a hand and signaled to his guards. They released the prisoner and stepped back.

"Now," Arik said, his voice ringing through the hall, "tell this room full of nobles and royals exactly who hired you to attack the prince and my sister in his chambers that night." frёeωebɳovel.com

The bound man trembled violently. His eyes darted around the hall, lingering on the many powerful faces watching him with anticipation. Fear was etched into every line of his face as he slowly lifted one shaking hand.

The movement seemed to stretch on forever. Then he pointed.

Straight at the queen.

The Nheera, however, remained completely unfazed. She sat upon her throne with regal grace, her face as smooth and emotionless as polished marble.

"How dare you accuse your queen of such a crime?" Hairan sneered. As he spoke, his hand slowly crept toward the sword resting at his hip.

Arik held the queen’s cold gaze without flinching as he stepped forward to stand behind the bound assassin, his posture rigid with defiance. There was no trace of hesitation in him, no hint that he might reconsider the reckless path he had chosen. He stood there stubbornly, unwilling to yield to any intimidations.

For a long moment, it felt as though the rest of the room had faded into nothingness. The two of them seemed locked in a silent battle of wills, their eyes fixed on one another in a tense staring match, utterly oblivious to the uneasy shifting of those gathered around them.

"Your Majesty," Arik said at last, "I beseech you to stand before the court and speak the truth. You did not only send people to murder Luria Tomar in cold blood, you also took your crimes a step further and blamed it on her husband, the very man who was forced to watch her die."

The accusation rang through the hall like the crack of thunder.

This was precisely what his father had feared. For years, his family had harbored their suspicions about the queen. Never once had any of them dared to speak the accusation aloud, much less before the entire court. Which meant that Arik was either the bravest of Falein’s children... or the most foolish.

When Queen Nheera finally spoke, her voice was colder than the frigid waters of winter.

"Are you aware of what you are insinuating, child?" The softness of her tone did nothing to lessen the menace coiled within her words. If anything, it made the threat far more chilling. Her gaze sharpened as she continued, "I could have your tongue cut off for making such accusations against me. False accusations against your queen are grounds for treason."

What happened next occurred so quickly that most of those gathered barely registered it until it was already done.

Azul moved. He approached Arik from behind with the quiet swiftness of a shadow. In a single, fluid motion, he drew his sword and slashed the blade across Arik’s throat.

"He can keep his tongue," Azul said coldly as he shoved the dying man aside.

For a heartbeat, the entire room froze.

Then chaos erupted.

Falein’s guttural scream tore through the air as he watched his son’s body collapse heavily onto the floor. Arik clawed weakly at his throat, choking and gasping as blood poured relentlessly from the gaping wound, staining his clothes and the floor beneath him in dark crimson. His breaths came in desperate, rattling gulps that grew weaker with every passing second.

Until finally he went still. Silent. Lifeless.

"Arik!" Falein cried hoarsely as he rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside his son. His hands trembled as he reached for him, as though he could somehow force life back into the body that now lay broken before him.

Azul, meanwhile, turned slowly to face the room. His gaze swept across every face in the chamber, watching calmly. The tension in the hall was thick enough to choke on, yet he seemed utterly unaffected by it.

Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small cloth and methodically wiped the blood from his sword.

"Before all of you," he said coolly, "and before His Majesty, the king, Arik Tomar has been found guilty of treason against the crown." He sheathed the sword with a soft click. "I simply volunteered to be his executioner."

"That was not your decision to make!" Falein snarled, his voice raw with grief and fury as he looked up from his son’s body. "You killed him without just cause. You killed him!"

The anguish pouring from his words would have shaken most men. But Azul was not like most men.

He regarded the grieving father with the same detached calm one might reserve for a minor inconvenience.

"You are a good man, Lord Tomar," Azul said evenly. "But a terrible father if you allow your son to speak so carelessly to his king and queen." His tone carried the faintest hint of condescension, as though he were chastising a stubborn child. "I suggest you teach your other two children better, so that we can prevent a nasty situation like this one from repeating itself."