Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 442: Chapter 442

But he would not look at her when he said it, and that alone told her everything she needed to know. He did not want to go, not because the matter wasn’t urgent but because he did not want to be away from her.

She appreciated the past few days he had spent caring for her. Still she could not bear the thought that she had become the reason he neglected his duties.

"You should go to the capital," she told him resolutely. "It is what is expected of you. You can even station guards at our door if that would ease your mind."

He only nodded.

She waited for an actual response but none came. Not as he took her on a brief stroll through the fields, staying close enough that their arms brushed with every step, ever watchful in case she grew too tired to walk and needed to be carried back. Not even then did he give her a true answer.

It was only later that night, when they lay together in bed, her body tucked securely against his, that he finally spoke.

"I have decided to go to see the king," he said quietly. "But I promise to return as quickly as I can."

There was a strain beneath his words, something un, as though they were more for himself than they were to assure her.

"I’m certain you will," she replied softly. "That is why I’m not worried and neither should you."

She lifted a hand to his face and leaned in, pressing her lips against his. When she pulled away, a small, reassuring smile curved her lips.

***

The long table stretched the length of the hall, its polished surface crowded with silver platters, half-filled goblets, and watchful nobles seated shoulder to shoulder. At one end sat King Zeriel, large and imposing, his fingers drumming once against the arm of his chair before curling around his cup again. At the other end, Queen Nheera observed in silence, her back straight, looking indifferent to everyone and everything around her.

Tension settled over the room.

"To the east," Zeriel began, his voice cutting cleanly through the low murmur of dining, "we lose citizens faster than we can bury them, their property destroyed."

The room quieted. Even the servants seemed to move more carefully as they poured wine and set down dishes.

The king’s gaze swept across the nobles seated along both sides. "I have sent regiment after regiment, and still they thrive."

A lord from the eastern region cleared his throat, hesitant. "Your Majesty, they know the wildlands better than our troops. The forests, the passes—"

"Then learn it," Zeriel snapped, the edge in his voice sharpening. "Or find me men who already have."

A few shifted in their seats. Jayran leaned back slightly, watching intently, while Azul remained perfectly still, his attention also firmly fixed on the exchange. Further down the table, Hairan sat beside his wife, Elka, whose gaze had not once strayed from her father, Halric.

Halric’s jaw was tight. Across from him, Davien Rycoff sat rigid, his disdain worn openly in the hollows of his face as he stared the other man down.

"Suggestions," he said, less a request than a demand as he focused on a group of attending nobles.

Laheir spoke then. "Cut their supply routes. They cannot fight indefinitely without support. Someone has to be aiding them in secret, else they wouldn’t have survived this long."

A murmur of agreement followed.

Zeriel narrowed his eyes. "Then why haven’t we found this person you speak of or made examples of them?" The question was directed back at Laheir, whose lips had thinned.

"We are doing what we can, your majesty." Laheir responded.

"Then your efforts are useless!" Zeriel’s gaze shifted, settling on the two men who had not spoken.

"Now," he said, "Let’s go to a more personal inconvenience."

Davien straightened. "My son is dead," he said harshly. "Murdered. And I will have justice."

Halric’s response was immediate, just as aggressive. "You will have proof before you make accusations in the king’s hall." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"Proof?" Davien’s hand tightened around his knife. "Your daughter sits at this table as a princess while my son rots in the ground."

Elka stiffened beside Hairan, her fingers curling into her lap. Hairan said nothing, but his gaze flicked briefly toward his father.

"Enough," Nheera said. Every head turned.

She barely moved from her seat, yet there was something in her gaze that stilled the rising argument. "Grief does not grant you the right to abandon sense, Lord Rycoff. And your display of outrage does not make you innocent, Lord Nereth."

"If there is truth to be found," Nheera continued, "it will not be dragged out by threats across a dinner table."

Davien’s breathing was heavy, but he did not speak again. Halric inclined his head slightly, though his expression remained tight.

Zeriel lifted his goblet once more, finishing what remained of the wine in a single swallow.

"Then we will investigate the matter of your son’s death, Rycoff," he said. "And until I have answers, neither of you will raise arms against the other. Break that command, and I will deal with you both myself."

The warning hung in the air, making the other gathered nobles visibly uncomfortable.

Then Zeriel pushed his chair back and moved to rise to his feet. There was a slight sway in his movements, subtle enough to be mistaken for drunkenness. Then his hand missed the table as he tried to steady himself. The goblet slipped from his fingers, striking the floor with a sharp, ringing clank.

The king staggered. A heartbeat later, he collapsed.

The hall erupted. Chairs scraped loudly against stone as nobles leapt to their feet. Voices overlapped as confusion and alarm took hold.

"Your majesty—" someone began, but the queen was already moving. freewebnσvel.cøm

She rose so abruptly her chair toppled behind her, the sound swallowed by the chaos. Crossing the distance in swift strides, she dropped to her knees beside Zeriel, her hands pressing against his shoulders as if willing him to respond.

"Zeriel," she called, her voice sharp, and urgent. "Zeriel!"

There was no answer.

"Guards!" she snapped, her composure cracking under the weight of her worry and concern. "Get him up—now!"

They obeyed instantly, rushing forward and lifting the king’s limp form.

The hall continued to churn with noise, but Nheera did not look at any of them. She rose and followed closely as they carried him out.

At the doorway, she paused just for a moment. Her gaze shifted and fell on Laheir, one of the only people who still remained seated.

In the depth of his eyes, something gleamed, wicked and insidious.

Then she turned away and disappeared after the king, leaving the room behind her to unravel.