••{EROS'S POV}••
As I walk into the throne room, every head in the vast hall turns toward me. Even before I reach the dais, the entire court rises to their feet in unison. The weight of their expectant gazes presses down on me, reminding me of the responsibility I bear.
Rayn stands beside my throne, waiting for me with his hands clasped behind his back. I take my place upon the throne, the familiar cold surface beneath me grounding my senses. Raising my palm and nodding, I signal them to sit. Slowly, one by one, the nobles, advisors, military commanders, and dignitaries return to their places.
I glance at Rayn, now seated at my side before I face the royal court, sweeping my gaze across the room.
"You were all present that day," I begin, my voice carrying across the marble hall, "when the Vampire Emperor, Azrael Bloodbourne, stormed my daughter's wedding, slaughtered our people, and took your Princess. In front of our eyes, Prince Cyrus of House Highcrest was brutally murdered in a way that turned my dreams into nightmares."
A heavy silence falls over the room. I say nothing for a moment to let them feel it.
"I have gathered you all here today to discuss our next course of action," I continue, hardening my voice. "We will not sit idle! Astragarde will not rest until her princess is safely returned! We are her blood, her people, her family. And we will not fail her!"
A chorus of murmurs of agreement ripples through the hall. A few voices call out affirmations, and I see the fire of determination flicker in their eyes, giving me hope.
Alexei Highcrest, Prince Cyrus's brother, rises abruptly, bowing stiffly before me.
"Your Majesty," he says, his voice steady despite the grief etched into his features. "I apologize on my father's behalf for not being able to attend this gathering. My mother and sister grieve the loss of my brother, and he wishes to remain with them in Goldhaven. As for me… I seek vengeance for my brother. Azrael Bloodbourne will answer for what he has done. I will not rest until he's dead."
He pauses, letting the words sink in, then gestures to the assembled nobles. "If you allow it, my father would like both our kingdoms to join forces. With Goldhaven's army alongside Astragarde's—we will march on the vampires and bring Rhiannon home."
The nobles nod, some clapping, some shouting in agreement. Others raise their hands, offering their support.
"I second this," a noblewoman calls from the far side of the room. "We can't allow monsters to think they can take one of our own."
Another noble says, "Let them come, these vampires. We'll show them the fury of humans united."
Teramon, my oldest and most trusted advisor, leans forward. His eyes, clouded with years and wisdom, meet mine.
"Your Majesty, may I speak?" he says.
I incline my head. "Go ahead, Teramon."
"I beg you all to hear me," he says, his voice carrying across the hall as he rises from his seat. "Even if we merge Goldhaven's army with ours, marching on the vampires is unwise. I have studied such creatures for decades… traveled lands where their kind roam. The vampires are faster than our eyes can follow, stronger than our best soldiers can withstand. Their senses are beyond what humans can comprehend. And Azrael Bloodbourne? He doesn't rule a single city, or a single kingdom. He rules an empire of nine kingdoms, each with its own army of vampires. If lesser vampires are already difficult to kill, imagine going up against higher beings like Azrael himself and his generals… to march on them is to walk into a banquet where we are the feast."
The murmurs die down into a tense silence as the nobles shift uneasily in their seats.
"Teramon is right, your majesty," Lord Percius says, standing carefully, his voice filled with both fear and curiosity. "Marching on the vampires directly would be suicide. We all know what vampires are. They're blood sucking dæmons who feed on our kind for survival. I've heard stories of their raids in distant kingdoms where they abduct people like us and take them back to their lands, and not once has one of their nobles felt the need to be a part of that when they can just send soldiers to carry out their will."
He pauses for a heartbeat before he continues. "But… I have a question that has plagued me since the princess was taken. Why would the Vampire Emperor himself travel all this way to Astragarde to abduct one person?"
The question stabs me like a knife in the chest.
Percius turns to face me.
"Your majesty," he says, "If there's anything you're not telling us, I suggest you let us know now while we're all gathered here."
All eyes turn to me. Rayn's hand grips mine and I turn to face him.
His brows are furrowed in thought, his blue eyes searching mine for answers I can't give. I feel their collective gaze pressing into my chest as whispers ripple across the court like waves.
"Silence!" My voice echoes through the hall. "I don't know why Azrael Bloodbourne kidnapped my daughter. And that is not the reason why I called this council. We are not here to question motives. We are here to plan how to bring Rhiannon back safely!"
My eyes sweep across the room, locking with as many of the nobles as I can. "I need brilliant ideas. I need strategies. Not speculation. Not fear. Not useless questions. Every moment we waste debating why, risks Rhiannon's life further."
The murmurs die, replaced by a low, tense silence. People exchange glances, some worried, some frustrated.
After a moment, Teramon stands again.
"Your Majesty," he begins, "since we cannot march on the vampires on our own, then perhaps we must seek an alliance elsewhere. One that balances the scales."
"What kind of alliance?" I ask, raising a brow.
"An alliance with one of the supernatural races."
A young lord speaks up. "The witches?"
I feel a cold chill crawl up my spine.
"No," I say sharply, turning to face the man. "That is not an option. My grandfather spent his life purging the witch plague from Astragarde. Other kingdoms from Aradel, to Bellaflor, even the far desert kingdoms of Saharim—are still ridding their lands of witches. Witches despise our kind. They have no love for humans. And worse, they have allied with vampires to protect themselves. They would never aid us."
"Then what options remain, Your Majesty?" Alexei asks, his voice carrying both frustration and urgency.
I feel my shoulders slump slightly. The despair threatens to claw back into my mind. I glance down at the polished floor, feeling the weight of the kingdom's future… my daughter's life, pressing against my chest.
I look up at Teramon. "What do you suggest?" I ask quietly, though even I can hear the desperation in my voice.
He doesn't respond immediately. The court leans forward, sensing the tension. Then, slowly, he rises and meets my eyes.
"My King… there is only one option I can think of," he says. "A race of powerful beings who despise the vampires and witches even more than we do. Their warriors are unmatched in speed and strength. If we can earn their trust, we might have a chance to even the odds."
"Who?" I ask.
"The Lycans."