Free Web NovelChapter 438: Chapter 438
Yet none of that turmoil showed on her face. Neither did it show on Hairan’s.
She glanced at him briefly, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around his small hand before giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Their gazes followed Ragnar as he stepped forward, and he bowed before Zeriel in a display of respect and gratitude. As Nheera studied him more closely this time, she began to notice what she had missed before, subtle details that now stood out with painful clarity. There was no denying it. He bore Zeriel’s likeness. frёewebnoѵēl.com
Her mind began to race, thoughts colliding as she tried to piece together the truth of the situation unfolding before her. She did not look away from the boy. He could not have been older than seven or eight. She searched her memory, sifting through the countless rumors and whispered scandals that had once reached her ears, trying to recall if any of Zeriel’s lovers had been with child around that time.
At first, she drew a blank. Then, suddenly, it came to her.
Not a lover, but a lady’s maid. A lady’s maid Zeriel had taken a brief and careless interest in. The woman had been a demon. So she must have been the boy’s mother.
Nheera had long believed she would never have to concern herself with that woman again. She had seen to it that the wretch fled the capital, had erased every trace of her existence meticulously. After all the effort she had poured into that task, she had thought the matter buried for good.
But she had been terribly mistaken.
It was as though the woman, even in her absence, had found a way to reach back and torment her, sending her son as a living reminder of a past that refused to stay buried.
"You already have one son. I see no reason why you cannot raise another," Zeriel said, answering her question with a careless indifference that only deepened the insult.
Nheera wanted to be shocked by the sheer audacity of his statement, but she wasn’t. Not when he had said far worse to her over the course of their marriage.
She lifted her chin, her posture rigid with pride, never once releasing Hairan’s hand as she fixed her husband with a steady, unflinching stare. Her face remained calm but her eyes burned with a fury that could not be concealed. Zeriel was insinuating that she should take in his bastard and raise him as her own. It was not only absurd, it was unforgivable.
Now she understood. This was why he had summoned witnesses, why he had chosen to stage this confrontation before the nobles instead of behind closed doors. He had intended to corner her, to strip her of any choice and bully her into submission. He believed she would yield, that she would agree simply to preserve appearances in the eyes of others.
But Nheera had never been one to bend to the will of others.
"Why would I subject my son to the company of filth?" she said, each word laced with contempt. "Bastards are already monstrous by nature, and this one is worse, a half-demon no less. Can you imagine such a thing?"
Her lips curled in disdain.
"So, with all due respect, Your Majesty, I would sooner run myself through with a sword than lift a single finger to care for your bastard."
Without waiting to be dismissed, she turned on her heel and strode away, pulling Hairan along with her. Her steps were quick and purposeful as she made her way back to her private quarters, her anger burning so fiercely that it drowned out everything else. She barely registered the soft, broken sounds coming from beside her until they had already reached her chambers.
Only then did she look down. Hairan’s cheeks were wet with tears, his small body trembling as quiet sobs wracked through him.
Nheera immediately dropped to his level, her face softening as she reached out to wipe away his tears with her embroidered handkerchief. Her voice, when she spoke, was gentle, soothing in stark contrast to the venom she had displayed moments earlier.
"What is the matter?" she asked softly, holding his gaze. "Are you crying because of what your father said?"
Hairan’s lips trembled as he nodded.
"I thought I was Father’s firstborn," he said between sobs. "But that boy is older than me. He came out of nowhere, and Father accepted him... Now that he is here, Father will not love me anymore."
His voice broke completely at the end.
"That is not true," Nheera said firmly, cupping his face in her hands. "Your father’s heart belongs to us, and it will remain that way. And as for that troublesome boy, he is nothing but a bastard. Bastards are only ever what they are, nothing more. They are worth less than the cheap wombs that conceived them. But you, my son, are a prince. One day, you will rule as king, just as the gods intended. Hold onto that truth and never forget it."
She brushed away the last of his tears with her thumb. "Now, dry your eyes. It pains me to see you cry."
Nheera waited until the nobles had fully dispersed before returning to the king’s wing. This time, she found Zeriel just as he was stepping out of the very room where the earlier confrontation had taken place. freewebnovel.cσ๓
"A word, Your Majesty," she said, coming to a stop a few feet away from him.
"I believe you have already said all that needed to be said," he replied coolly. "There is no need to waste my time further."
His dismissiveness only reignited the fury simmering beneath her composed exterior.
"Do you have any idea how humiliated I was in there?" she demanded, her voice trembling with restrained anger. "All because of you. We were married for three years before I was able to conceive and give birth to Hairan. Three years," she repeated, her voice tightening. "Do you know what those years were like for me? I was mocked, ridiculed, called every insult imaginable because I could not give you an heir. And you allowed it. You let them disrespect me, and now you are doing the same thing all over again by bringing your bastard here. Your firstborn. A random woman gave you a son before I could. You know how it will make me look, and you still did it."
There was an air of nonchalance about him as he finally turned to face her fully, as though her anger was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"And what do you want me to do?" he asked. He already looked bored with the conversation.
"I want you to send the boy back to wherever you picked him up from. I want him scrubbed out of our lives," she said sharply. "You already have a son and gods willing, I will give you as many heirs as you desire. You do not need to keep a bastard around."
"He is my blood, and I found him living on a farm. It is unacceptable," Zeriel said.
"I do not care if he used to sleep on the streets and beg for food. I want him gone, and if you do not do it yourself, I will make sure he regrets ever stepping foot inside this palace," Nheera snapped. Her voice rose with every word until it echoed through the walls. "Imagine what the courtiers will think of you when you bring your demon bastard to court. Eight years in power, and you still have not won most of their favor or support. Yet Orrin never had that problem. He was their beloved prince, after all."
She saw the way his expression darkened, but she did not stop. If he wanted to wound her, then she would do the same.
"I can already imagine what they will say. Orrin Acheron would never have stained his lineage the way you did. Had Orrin lived, he would have made a better king."
The moment the words left her mouth, his face twisted with fury. He raised his hand, and pain exploded across her cheek. The force of the strike made her stagger to the side. Her vision blurred for a moment, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth where the inside of her cheek had split against her teeth. She had not been expecting the blow, and the shock of it made something inside her snap.
Her chest heaved with every breath she took. Rage boiled beneath her skin, hot and impossible to contain. Before she even understood what she was doing, she was already moving. She charged toward the nearest guard. With one swift motion, she yanked the sword from his scabbard. The guard barely had time to react, too stunned to stop her before Nheera spun back around and leveled the blade at Zeriel.
The sharp tip hovered only inches from his face.
"Raise your hand against me again, and you will lose that hand," she said. Her voice was low and deadly. And they both knew she would not hesitate to make good on that threat.
