The Breakfast Hall felt like a tomb masquerading as a banquet. Bella stared at the untouched eggs on her plate, her vision blurring. In her mind, she was already back in her chambers, looking at the sheet of coarse paper on her desk. She could still feel the scratchy, uneven texture of it against her fingertips. Should I seal it? she wondered. If she sent the letter now, her mother would spend five days mourning a girl who wasn't dead yet. But if she left it... if she died in the mud and they found it tucked under her pillow... which was the kinder way to say goodbye?
Her morbid spiral was shattered by the screech of heavy oak on stone.
Supreme King Elderon rose, his movement a command for the world to stop. Beside him, Queen Aurelia took his hand, her face a mask of regal indifference. Across the room, the other sovereigns followed suit, a ripple of bows following them like a wave as the High King began to make his exit.
But as the King's heavy footfalls began to retreat, Jasper stood. He didn't just rise; he seized the room. The usual smirk played at the corner of his lips, but his eyes were like flint as they swept the table, pausing for a fraction of a second on Prince Eric.
"I think it prudent to announce what you all must know."
It was as if the air itself had been sucked out of the room. The hall remained silent, as if sound was no longer allowed to exist.
"With the upcoming uncertainty," Jasper's voice boomed, rich and unwavering, "I think it wise to make my stance clear. I choose Daniela Valderas to be the next Queen of the Demon Kingdom. And my wife."
The declaration hit the table like a physical weight. Jasper had just wrapped Daniela in the diplomatic immunity of the Demon Kingdom. She was no longer a stray princess to be bartered or bullied; she was a sovereign-in-waiting.
At the far end of the table, King Magnus and Queen Elara of the Beastman Kingdom leaned toward one another, their voices a mere vibration.
"I am glad that one is off the market," Queen Elara whispered, her eyes tracking Daniela. "Now Landon can finally focus on the woman who will actually become his Queen."
Magnus nodded slowly, his gaze calculating. "She will be a great ally to our Kingdom regardless. Her father is one of our subjects; she has a vested interest in our cooperation. We must ensure our ties with the demons remain strong."
While the kings schemed, Fox felt a cold ache in her chest. She joined the applause, her hands stinging, but her eyes drifted to Landon. He was smiling—genuinely, warmly—at Daniela. Fox's heart sank. He had been courting her for weeks, yet the way he looked at Daniela was a world away from how he looked at her.
He hasn't chosen me, Fox realized with a bitter clarity. He's waiting to see if I even come back alive. She tightened her jaw, her resolve hardening into something sharp. She would prove to him not only that she was the right choice, but that she was the only choice he had left.
The only person not clapping was Eric. His face was a mask of pale fury. His fingers dug into the heavy linen of the tablecloth, dragging across the wood until the fabric tore beneath his fingernails with a muted, jagged rip.
King Elderon had stopped at the threshold. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing into slits. He didn't see a lover protecting his bride; he saw a young wolf marking his territory. He viewed Jasper's display as nothing more than cold propaganda—a move to ensure the Demon Kingdom's dominance over the girl's future.
He looked at Daniela, waiting for her to falter. Instead, she looked up at Jasper with a genuine smile that made King Elderon's blood simmer.
"Allow me to extend my congratulations, Princess Daniela," King Elderon's voice boomed, interrupting the moment before she could even speak her acceptance. "I will call for your presence in the throne room."
The "request" was a command. King Elderon swept out of the room, his cape billowing behind him like a funeral shroud.
King Michael watched the exchange, his irritation peaking. He stood, ready to follow King Elderon and demand an explanation for this blatant intimidation of a future Demon Queen, when a hand clamped onto his arm.
Jasper's grip was iron. He leaned in, his back to the room, and mouthed five words that changed everything:
"Daniela has a God's Gift."
He tapped his chest, right over his heart, signaling the location of the power.
King Michael's breath hitched. He looked at the ceiling, a long, weary sigh escaping him as he felt the strain of diplomacy snap. He looked at Daniela—sitting there among the cheering princesses, a living weapon they were about to send into a troll den—and then back to Jasper.
"I'll deal with this," King Michael muttered. He didn't call him son; he didn't even look him in the eye. He simply turned with the rigid, lethal grace of a military commander and marched after King Elderon.
"A moment of your time, Supreme King," King Michael's voice rang out down the corridor.
The High King's personal guard halted instantly. A dozen Sentinels turned, their blood-red eyes gleaming with a predatory light. Their hands shifted, resting on the pommels of their swords as they waited for a single command to spill royal blood.
King Elderon paused. He looked at Queen Aurelia and gave a sharp, dismissive nod. As she hurried away, King Elderon stepped through the wall of his guards. They parted like a red sea, allowing him to walk down the center of the hall toward King Michael.
Maids scrambled past them, clutching trays of half-eaten food, their eyes downcast as they tried to vanish into the shadows. Behind them, the first of the Generals were already entering the Breakfast Hall, their heavy boots drowning out the domestic sounds of the morning. Maps were unrolled; the smell of oil and polished steel began to replace the scent of tea.
"We may speak," King Elderon said, his gaze drifting back toward the hall where the transition to war was already underway. "I am curious to hear your thoughts."
They walked in a heavy, measured silence until they reached a private sitting room. The guards remained outside, a wall of steel blocking the door. King Elderon stepped out onto the balcony, the salt-heavy air of the ocean swirling around them. Below, the courtyard was a hive of activity—the rhythmic clank of Sentinels gathering, their horses stamping impatiently on the cobblestones.
King Michael stepped out beside him, his expression unreadable.
"I have noticed an increased interest—perhaps an overreach of authority," King Michael began, his voice smooth and dangerously diplomatic. "The Demon Kingdom has always respected the Supreme Crown, but Daniela is now a ward of my house. Her matters are my matters. It would be... unfortunate... for your inquiries to be perceived as an infringement on our sovereignty."
King Elderon let out a short, crisp laugh that didn't reach his eyes. He turned, leaning his lower back against the stone railing.
"So, you know about the God's Gift too," King Elderon said, cutting through the fluff. "Let's not waste breath on riddles, Michael."
A triumphant, cold smile touched King Michael's lips. He didn't miss the fact that the Supreme King had skipped his title, addressing him with an informal disrespect that would usually warrant a sharp correction. But in this moment of absolute leverage, King Michael couldn't care less. He had the prize. He had the winning hand.
"I do," King Michael admitted. "And as her King, I intend to see that gift protected."
"Protected?" King Elderon sneered. "Your kingdom could be picked apart in a week if the others catch wind of this. Do you truly believe the rest of the sovereigns will sit idly by while the demons hoard a God's Gift? Will you allow your lands to burn for a mere girl?"
"Kings do not threaten war for women," King Michael countered, his voice dropping an octave. "But every man at that table would burn the world for what lies beneath her skin. We are not talking about a girl, King Elderon. We are talking about an asset."
"Then we are at an impasse," King Elderon snapped, his eyes flashing. "Because I want her. And I have the power to reveal her before she even reaches the treeline."
King Michael stepped closer, his shadow falling over the Supreme King. "I know of something you want more. Something you have spent decades trying to secure, and something I am in the unique position to grant you."
King Michael leaned in, his voice becoming a low murmur that was swallowed by the crashing waves below. He spoke of a trade—a concession so significant it made King Elderon's hand freeze on the railing.
The Supreme King remained silent for a long moment, his thumb rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he weighed the value of a secret against the weight of King Michael's offer. Finally, King Elderon looked up. The hunger in his eyes hadn't vanished, but it had been redirected.
He reached out, his hand grasping King Michael's in a firm, cold grip.
"We have a deal," King Elderon said.