Free Web NovelChapter 98: Chapter 98: Heartbeats
Chapter 98: Heartbeats
For several long seconds after Celia’s final bow, the throne room went silent.
Elven nobles stood frozen in their assigned rows, hands hovering near ceremonial weapons they had no intention of drawing yet could not afford to release. Even the enchanted chandeliers overhead seemed dimmer than before, their golden glow reduced as though magic itself was waiting for permission to continue.
Sebastian Blackwood was the first to truly break through that stillness, though only internally.
His expression remained controlled and unreadable, carved into the same aristocratic restraint he had worn his entire life, yet the faint tension tightening along his jaw betrayed an unease that refused to be ignored.
He had entered this chamber expecting negotiation, or conflict, or at the very least a clear political outcome he could analyze and respond to. What he had witnessed instead felt neither like surrender nor victory, but carefully arranged in advance, like every word and gesture had already been decided long before they crossed the threshold of this kingdom.
Ezekiel Rowe stood in complete silence, yet his awareness was anything but quiet. His eyes were not on Aelith, nor on the assembled elves, nor even on the shifting tension of the throne room.
His gaze was fixed entirely on the woman standing near the elven throne, and that alone should have meant nothing. He had already confirmed Aria’s mana signature as stable, intact, and consistent with a recovering vessel.
There was no distortion, no corruption, no irregular fluctuation that would suggest manipulation or possession.
Logically, she was exactly as she should be, and yet Ezekiel’s instincts refused to accept that conclusion as complete.
Because the anomaly was not Aria.
It was the woman beside the throne.
She stood in flowing white silk that caught the palace light with an almost unnatural softness, as if the fabric itself had been designed to blur attention rather than attract it. A translucent veil covered the lower half of her face, shaping her presence into something impossible to ignore.
At first glance, she appeared composed, even elegant, like someone who belonged entirely within the high politics of an elven court. But the longer Ezekiel observed her, the more that impression fractured under something he could not name.
Just beneath her right eye, resting delicately on her cheekbone above the edge of her veil, there was a small beauty mark. It should have been insignificant, the kind of detail easily lost in the grandeur of her attire, yet Ezekiel found his attention returning to it again and again without conscious intent.
It became an anchor point for something deeper, as though his mind was trying to attach recognition to a memory that did not fully exist.
And then there were her eyes.
They were not gentle like Aria’s, nor softened by nobility. They were sharp and clear.
Ezekiel’s breath slowed, his instincts tightening around a realization he could not yet articulate.
Something about her was familiar.
Not in memory.
But in presence.
Sir Matthias Sinclair adjusted his stance subtly beside them, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
Unlike Ezekiel, he did not attempt to analyze the anomaly intellectually. He simply felt it. His instincts told him that whatever they were seeing here was only a surface layer.
Damien Ashford stood at the forefront of the group, yet even he seemed caught between his purpose and his own hesitation.
Even if his attention was now fixed on Aria, who stood beside him, it doesn’t seem to be enough.
And yet, every time his gaze shifted, it returned to the woman beside the throne in white
Something about her presence refused to release its hold on him.
Aelith, seated upon his throne, observed them all with detachment. He looked like a man watching a scene unfold exactly as it was meant to.
That fact alone made Sebastian’s suspicion deepen.
"There is something wrong," Sebastian finally said under his breath, breaking the uneasy stillness.
His voice was low, controlled, but there was a fracture of certainty beneath it that made both Matthias and Ezekiel glance at him immediately. Neither of them disagreed, because they had felt it too, though none of them had yet given it a name.
It was not danger in the traditional sense, nor was it the presence of an enemy preparing to strike. It was something more disorienting, like reality itself had shifted a fraction out of place.
Ezekiel’s golden eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back toward the doors.
"Damien," he called carefully, drawing the Crown Prince’s attention. "We should leave at once."
Damien did not respond immediately. Only after a moment did he finally exhale and give a slight nod, though his gaze remained distant.
"If this is a misunderstanding," Damien said at last, voice steady but restrained, "then I will allow it to pass. However, if we have been deceived, there will be consequences for every action taken here." His tone shifted slightly as he finally turned away, taking Aria’s hand once more.
"We leave."
As soon as they left the grand hall, Aria suddenly hesitated.
Her feet suddenly stopped and that alone made all four men pause. There was something uneasy in her expression. Her fingers suddenly tightened slightly around Damien’s hand, not pulling away from him, but resisting the motion of leaving.
"Let’s go back." she murmured softly. "Please, take Celia with you!"
Meanwhile, Celia stood alone beside the throne.
For a brief moment after they left, she allowed herself to breathe.
The veil that had covered the lower half of her face was finally lifted, revealing features that had been carefully concealed beneath layers of illusion. The tension that had settled in her shoulders since the moment the throne room doors opened slowly eased, and she closed her eyes for a brief second as if grounding herself in the reality of what she had just done.
Aelith approached her quietly, his presence as steady as ever. He stopped only when he stood close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"Are you well?" he asked gently, voice softer than the authority he wore before others.
Celia opened her eyes again and offered him a faint smile.
"I am," she replied honestly. "Thank you... for letting me decide earlier."
Aelith’s expression softened at that. He lifted her hand carefully, as though it was something fragile and precious, and pressed a light kiss against her knuckles. "Anything for you," he murmured. "Always, my love."
For a moment, it truly felt as though the world outside the throne room no longer existed.
Everything had aligned.
Everything had been spoken.
Everything had been settled.
And yet...
A strange silence lingered.
Not in the room.
But in her chest. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
Celia’s fingers twitched slightly as she stared at Aelith, as if trying to identify something she could not yet name. The warmth in the room remained unchanged, the light from the chandeliers still gentle and golden, yet something about her own body suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Then something suddenly happened.
Her body stiffened abruptly, as though something inside her had simply stopped responding.
Aelith noticed it instantly.
"Celia?" he called, his voice sharpening slightly as concern broke through his composure for the first time in days. His hand tightened around hers, as if instinct alone told him she was slipping from him. "Celia, what is—"
Her vision blurred.
The world tilted.
Her breath became ragged and difficult.
Then her knees weakened before she could process it, and before she could even take another step back, her body collapsed forward.
Aelith caught her immediately.
"CELIA!"
The shout echoed through the throne room like a crack splitting stone.
Aria gasped and flinched, as she suddenly tore away from Damien’s grasp.
Her head snapped back toward the palace doors, her entire body freezing as she heard Aelith’s cry of fear and grief.
"No..." she whispered, breath catching. Then louder, more desperate, "No—wait! We have to go back!"
She turned abruptly, pulling away from Damien completely as her voice rose in urgency. "Ren! Ezekiel! Sebastian! Matthias! We have to go back inside!"
Damien reached out instantly, his grip tightening as he tried to stop her from running forward. "Aria!"
But she had already jumped off the horse.
Her feet stumbled once on the stone steps before she steadied herself, her breathing uneven as panic set in fully.
"Something is wrong," she said quickly, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay composed. "You have to help her or you will regret it! Please! I am begging you!"
Sebastian’s expression darkened immediately, his instincts reacting before logic could catch up. Ezekiel turned sharply toward the palace doors, mana already stirring faintly beneath his control without conscious effort. Matthias drew his sword halfway before stopping himself, his jaw tightening as he tried to assess the situation.
Damien, however, stood still for only a fraction longer.
Then his gaze hardened.
Without another word, he turned.
"Move," he ordered, voice low and urgent.
The four of them ran.
Back through the palace gates. Back to where Celia was supposed to be.
Aelith on the other hand, knelt on the marble floor, with Celia cradled carefully in his arms.
Her body felt too light, too still, as though her soul had been severed from her existence in an instant.
His expression was no longer in control. His eyes trembled as he pressed his fingers against her wrist instinctively, searching for her pulse.
But there was nothing.
The realization hit him and Aelith’s breath stopped.
"...No," he whispered, voice breaking.
"No, no—Celia, open your eyes." His hand pressed against her cheek desperately, as if touch alone could force her back into consciousness. "This is not—this is not possible..."
But her body remained still in his arms.
"Someone call the healers! NOW!"
Just as Aelith’s voice rose again in raw panic, the doors burst open.
