Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 446: Chapter 446

It was only the three of them in the room.

"Why do you even bother coming here?" Nheera said after a moment, looking at the king’s motionless form. "To gloat?"

"Why else?" Laheir replied without any particular shame. "Beyond that, people expect to see the king’s chief advisor showing concern for him. The last thing either of us needs is for anyone to start wondering why I don’t." freёwebnovel.com

Nheera said nothing to that. She looked down at Zeriel, her expression tight and unreadable.

"He looks peaceful," she said.

"Most do," said Laheir, "when they are dying."

"I always thought he would die violently." Her voice was tinged with disappointment. "That would have been more fitting. It is the least of what he deserved."

"Take some comfort then in the fact that the poison is slow acting," Laheir said. "It will work through him gradually. His organs will fail one by one and he will have full awareness of it before the end. He will suffer in agony. Whatever peace he looks to be in now, it will not last."

Nheera allowed herself a small smile. "Good."

She was quiet for a moment, before glancing at Laheir.

"You were not the first person to think of killing him this way," she said but she did not elaborate. She did not need to. The meaning was clear enough, and she could see from the way Laheir’s expression shifted slightly that he had already begun to piece it together.

For years, long before Laheir had ever acted, Nheera had been doing the same thing. She had been slowly poisoning him, in doses too small for anyone to trace. An attendant that was well compensated had seen to the practical side of it. No one had suspected. No one else knew.

"No one even suspected a thing before. But what you did would surely bring unwanted attention our way." She said.

"I will handle it. No one will know." Laheir wasn’t even slightly bothered.

She didn’t press him on it. Laheir had his ways of making inconvenient things disappear, and whatever she thought of his recklessness, she had never doubted his usefulness. It was the only reason she had agreed to work alongside him and his brother as long as she had.

Her gaze returned to Zeriel.

He had been a formidable man, once. She could still remember the first time she had seen him, long before she had any real understanding of what her life beside him would become. Whatever she had felt in those early years had been buried so thoroughly beneath resentment.

Whatever else Nheera might have said next was lost.

Zeriel’s eyelids were moving.

Nheera and Laheir stilled at once, watching as his eyes opened.

Zeriel gaze was unfocused, his brow drawn tight with visible pain. He looked at the ceiling above him as though he could not immediately understand what he was seeing.

He was awake. But not entirely present.

His lips parted, and when he spoke, the words came out slurred.

"...mm... I..."

The sound was broken, nearly unintelligible.

Nheera moved closer without hesitation. Her demeanor shifted seamlessly. She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed and took his hand into hers, her fingers curling around his with a tenderness that would have fooled anyone who did not know her.

"Zeriel," she said, her voice soft. "What are you trying to say?"

"I—" He stopped then tried again. "I need to speak to the court."

Even those few words seemed to cost him considerably. His chest rose and fell with the effort it took him to speak.

"Your Majesty." Laheir’s voice came from the other side of the bed, filled with false concern. "I don’t think that is wise in your condition. You ought to rest. Focus on making a full recovery."

Zeriel did not appear to hear him, or if he did, he chose not to acknowledge it. "I might not have much time left. My heir. I— I must choose an heir."

"Your Majesty, please be reasonable," Laheir said. "You are not in the right state to be doing all that. When you have rested, when your strength has returned—"

"No." The word came out clearer than anything else he had managed so far. "I must. Choose."

A brief silence followed.

"Very well," Laheir said, his tone shifting into something accommodating. "I will assemble the courtiers." He had no intention of doing so.

"But while we wait, you can tell me who you have decided on. Who is it that you wish to name as your successor?" As he spoke, his gaze cut briefly to Nheera across the bed.

Zeriel drew a slow breath.

"My son." A pause. His eyes drifted, then refocused. "Ra— Ragnar. He is to be my successor."

The words hit Nheera like an arrow to the heart. For a moment she did not move, did not breathe, and then something inside her chest split open and filled immediately with fury. Shock came with it, and beneath both, was devastation. She rose from the bed and stepped back from it, putting distance between herself and Zeriel as revulsion climbed up through everything else she was feeling. His words tore through every plan she had led out, through years of careful patient work.

"A fine choice, your Majesty," Laheir said, and as he did, he looked at her. The look was brief and pointed. A warning for her to hold herself together.

Zeriel had no more strength left. Merely speaking had stripped him of whatever energy he had left, and now his eyes were growing heavy, the lids drooping. He drifted away in a state of unconsciousness, his breathing evening out again into that same shallow rhythm.

Nheera stood at the foot of the bed, her hands still at her sides.

"No," she said, and the word came out low and tight with everything she was holding back. "I will not allow it. That bastard will never be king."

"Which is precisely why no one will know what the king just said." Laheir replied, his mind already working. "He will die before anyone finds out. They will believe he passed without naming a successor, and when that happens, every eye in this kingdom will turn to Hairan as the only natural choice. That is how it will go."

"He was going to choose Ragnar all along. I think he had already decided and was simply waiting for the right moment to announce it." She seethed. Zeriel’s words still rang in her ears on a loop.

"Then his timing was poor," Laheir said.

"Hairan will be king." She reiterated. "I did not endure decades in this marriage to watch that title pass to some half-blood he sired on a woman he should never have gone near."

"Ragnar is not without his own supporters."

"I know who his supporters are." She had made it her business to know. "They will find it difficult to support a dead man."

"One problem at a time," he reminded her.

"I am aware. Do not take another action without consulting me, Laheir. I mean that. What you did nearly unraveled years of careful work and I will not have you do it again."

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Laheir held her gaze for a moment longer and then he turned and walked to the door.

The guard on the other side bowed the moment it opened.

"Kingmaker," he said. "Prince Ragnar is requesting an audience with the king."