Chapter 30: Crimson Betrayal

Daniel was completely unconscious by the time the canoe cut through the dark waters and reached the docks of Nhim.

His breathing was shallow. Too shallow.

The torches along the docks flickered violently in the night wind as warriors rushed forward to secure the boats. The moment the canoe scraped against wood, Timi jumped out.

He didn’t wait for assistance.

He lifted Daniel onto his back again, gripping his legs firmly and rising in one smooth motion. Daniel’s arm hung limp over Timi’s shoulder, blood dripping steadily from his fingertips onto the dock.

“Timi—” I began.

“Move,” he ordered.

And he ran.

Up the stone steps from the docks, across the sleeping streets of Nhim, through towering archways carved with ancient symbols of the kingdom. His speed was restrained now—not the full blur of a hunt—but still fast enough that servants flattened themselves against the walls as he passed.

I raced after him, heart pounding.

By the time we burst into the palace hall, Daniel’s blood had left a trail behind us—dark droplets staining the polished crystal floor.

“Tend to him!” Timi’s voice thundered through the vast chamber. “Royal physician!”

His voice echoed off the high ceilings, bouncing between marble pillars and silver chandeliers.

For a heartbeat, there was only silence.

Then movement.

At the top of the grand staircase, a figure appeared.

A man dressed entirely in white—robes flowing, hair tied neatly behind him, his presence calm yet commanding. His expression shifted the moment his eyes landed on Daniel.

“Bring him here,” the physician said firmly.

Timi didn’t hesitate. He took the stairs two at a time, Daniel’s blood marking each step. I followed close behind.

The physician turned and moved down a quieter corridor, motioning for us to follow. The air changed there—less grand, more sterile. The scent of herbs and clean linen replaced the incense of the main hall.

He pushed open a wooden door and stepped aside.

The room inside was simple but immaculate.

It was clearly designed for the sick or wounded—not luxurious like the royal chambers, but well-kept and dignified. The walls were smooth stone, lined with shelves of neatly arranged jars filled with dried herbs, powders, and small glass vials. A basin of fresh water sat atop a wooden stand near the window. Soft lantern light bathed the room in a warm glow.

At the center stood a single bed.

Plain.

Clean.

White sheets perfectly arranged.

Prepared.

Timi crossed the room and gently laid Daniel onto the bed. The white fabric beneath him immediately began to stain red.

The physician stepped forward, examining the wounds quickly but carefully. His calm expression tightened ever so slightly.

“Outside,” he said.

Juliet stepped forward. “We need to—”

“Outside,” he repeated, firmer this time. “If you wish for him to live.”

Timi’s jaw clenched.

For a moment, I thought he might refuse.

Then he stepped back.

We both did.

The physician moved to the bedside as we exited the room. The door closed softly between us.

And for the first time since the forest, we were forced to stand still.

Waiting.

With Daniel’s blood still fresh on the palace floors.

We sat on the cold stone floor of the corridor.

Neither of us spoke at first.

Daniel’s blood had dried in streaks along our hands, mixing with the black paint that still marked our skin from the mission. The paint was meant to make us shadows.

Now it looked like mourning.

Juliet stared at her palms for a long time.

“It should’ve been me,” she said finally, her voice hollow.

Timi didn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on the closed door of the physician’s room.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.

“I dragged him into it,” she whispered. “The villa. The ambush. All of it. If I hadn’t insisted on going—”

“He chose to come,” Timi cut in.

“But I pushed him.”

Silence settled again.

“If he dies…” Her voice cracked. “It’ll be because I brought him into this war.”

Timi’s jaw tightened. “Daniel is not weak. And he is not dead.”

“But he’s not healing.”

That hung between them like a blade.

Before either could say another word, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

We both looked up.

Ten royal guards approached in formation, armored, armed, ready for battle. Their expressions were unreadable—but their stance wasn’t friendly.

“The king requests your presence,” the one at the front said.

Timi rose slowly. “We just returned from a deadly mission. One of ours is fighting for his life.”

“The king,” the guard repeated, “requests your presence.”

“That wasn’t a request,” Juliet muttered under her breath.

Timi’s eyes flashed with irritation. “We nearly lost one of our own. This can wait.”

“It cannot.”

The tension sharpened.

The guards’ hands rested on the hilts of their swords.

They weren’t leaving without us.

Timi exhaled once, controlled.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”

\---

We were escorted through the palace in silence.

Servants watched from the shadows. Whispers followed us like ghosts.

When the grand doors to the throne chamber opened, the air inside felt heavier than the forest had.

The king sat upon his elevated throne, draped in deep crimson and gold. His presence filled the room.

But he was not alone.

Seated beside him—

Was the queen.

She wore a pale gown now, no longer the crimson from the villa. Her hands rested delicately in her lap. Her expression was composed.

And when her eyes met ours—

She smiled.

Not warmly.

Not nervously.

An evil, satisfied smirk curved her lips.

My stomach dropped.

Before the throne, on their knees—

Were the warriors who had gone with us to the Prince of Braves’ villa.

Bound.

Heads lowered.

Juliet inhaled sharply.

Timi stepped forward immediately. “Why are they restrained?”

The king’s expression darkened.

“They laid their hands on my wife,” he said, his voice echoing through the chamber. “They treated her like a criminal.”

Murmurs spread across the room.

“They abducted her,” the king continued. “Under your command.”

Timi’s posture stiffened.

“You led a secret mission beyond our borders,” the king said, anger rising. “Without informing your king. Without permission. And then you assaulted my queen.”

“That’s a lie—” I started.

Timi’s hand shot out slightly, stopping me.

His eyes never left the throne.

He walked forward another step.

Instantly, the guards flanking the king drew their swords with a sharp metallic hiss.

But the king lifted his hand.

They stopped.

The blades lowered—but did not sheath.

Timi stood firm, unflinching.

“Haven’t you been curious,” he said evenly, “about why the spirit warriors of this kingdom grow weaker by the day?”

The chamber quieted.

“About why the Braves attack more boldly now? More frequently?” Timi continued. “Why our defenses fail faster than they should?”

The king’s jaw tightened.

“Say what you want to say, Timi,” he said coldly.

The queen’s smirk deepened.

She wasn’t afraid.

She was confident.

The silence in the throne room thickened.

Timi didn’t hesitate.

“Your queen,” he said clearly, his voice cutting through the chamber like steel, “has been sleeping with the prince.”

Gasps exploded across the hall.

The king shot to his feet.

“How dare you!” he roared, fury shaking the pillars. “You will not—”

“The child she carries,” Timi continued, unflinching, “is not pure-blooded. And that is why the spirit warriors weaken. That is why our borders fail. That is why the Braves strike without fear.”

The king’s face turned a dangerous shade of red.

Before he could respond, the queen rose gracefully from her seat.

She descended the steps slowly, every movement deliberate. Controlled.

She stopped directly in front of Timi.

For a moment, she simply stared at him.

Then she laughed softly.

“Who do you think you are?” she said, her voice smooth but venomous. “We accepted you into our kingdom. Fed you. Clothed you. Gave you a name among us. A title.”

Her eyes hardened.

“And you dare attempt to tear us apart?”

She stepped closer.

“You are nothing but a stray vampire who crawled into our lands begging for purpose. You have no lineage here. No bloodline. No throne. No true home.”

Her lips curled.

“You pretend to be loyal, but you are still the same unwanted creature you were when you arrived. A low-born outsider desperate to feel important.”

She circled him slowly, her words meant to humiliate.

“You think you understand royal matters? You think you deserve to question me?” She scoffed. “You are tolerated, Timi. Not respected.”

The court was silent.

Watching.

Waiting.

She leaned closer to his ear.

“You will always be beneath us.”

When she stepped back, her expression was victorious.

I saw it in Timi’s eyes—the flicker of rage. The restraint barely holding.

I moved quickly.

“It’s not worth it,” I said quietly, stepping beside him. “They’re not worth it.”

I reached for his hand.

For a split second, he didn’t respond.

Then his fingers tightened around mine.

And we turned.

We began walking away from the throne.

Murmurs erupted instantly.

“How dare you!” the king shouted. “You do not turn your back on your king!”

We didn’t stop.

“Guards!” the king roared. “Kill them!”

The word echoed.

Kill.

We stopped.

Slowly, I turned my head.

The guards shifted uneasily.

I stepped slightly in front of Timi.

And I looked at them.

Not as a court member.

Not as a subordinate.

But as what I truly was.

My eyes darkened. My posture straightened. The air around me felt heavier, colder.

“I dare any of you,” I said calmly.

The room went still.

One guard took half a step

forward—

Then froze.

I could hear their heartbeats.

Fast.

Uneven.

Afraid.

None of them moved.

None of them raised their swords again.

The silence was louder than any battle we had fought.

After a long moment, I turned away.

And we continued walking.

No one stopped us.

As we reached the massive doors and they slowly opened, I heard something faint behind us.

The queen’s voice.

Soft.

Whispering into the king’s ear.

I didn’t turn back.

I didn’t need to.

Whatever poison she was planting now would grow soon enough.

But at that moment—

All I cared about—

Was whether Daniel was still breathing.