Chapter 240

Chapter 240
Alaric's POV

I closed the ornate door of my quarters behind me, the enchanted crystals along the ceiling dimming to a soft glow, responding to my troubled mood. The elven quarters shimmered with our subtle magic—walls inlaid with living silver that pulsed like veins carrying lifeblood through the sacred space.

I crossed to the balcony overlooking the divine gardens, bracing my hands against the railing. Kael's proposal echoed in my mind. A shared claim to Lyrien. It was unprecedented, outrageous, and completely contrary to everything I'd been raised to expect.

A royal consort is exclusive. That's the foundation of elven diplomatic marriages.

My jaw tightened involuntarily. The political alliance between our kingdoms and the new Moon Goddess had been carefully orchestrated over centuries. My father had spent decades nurturing the relationship with Aetheria, positioning our bloodline for this exact opportunity.

And now a dragon prince proposed we share her like common treasure.

"Your meeting with the council representatives has been postponed until tomorrow morning," Lucien's voice came from the doorway. "They're still processing the witch's capture."

I didn't turn. "Thank you."

Lucien crossed the room, his movements fluid and silent as all royal attendants were trained to be. "Something troubles you, my lord?"

"Kael made an interesting proposal." I kept my tone neutral, revealing nothing.

"The dragon prince? What manner of proposal?"

I finally turned, studying my most trusted advisor. Lucien had been by my side since childhood—half confidant, half conscience, wholly devoted to the advancement of our people.

"He suggests we form an alliance regarding Lyrien."

Lucien's eyebrows rose slightly. "An alliance?"

"He believes she cares for both of us. And possibly still for Vex as well." The name tasted bitter on my tongue. "He proposes we... share her affections, rather than compete."

A moment of stunned silence followed before Lucien's face twisted with barely concealed disgust. "That's absurd. You are crown prince of the eastern realms. Your consort cannot be... divided."

"I know."

"And Vex? A shadow-tainted commoner with no lineage, no standing? The very one who killed her?" Lucien shook his head sharply. "Unthinkable."

I moved to the crystal decanter on my desk, pouring two glasses of elven spirit—clear liquid that shimmered with constellations when it caught the light.

"Politics aside," I said, handing one glass to Lucien, "I find myself... compromised."

"Compromised?"

I took a measured sip, letting the liquid warm my throat. "I'm falling in love with her."

The confession hung in the air between us. Lucien's expression softened marginally.

"That was always a possibility," Lucien acknowledged. "She's quite extraordinary."

"She is." I stared into my glass, watching the tiny stars swirl. "This was supposed to be a political union. Beneficial to both parties. My feelings weren't meant to be involved."

"Yet here we are."

"Here we are," I echoed. "And now I face the prospect of sharing the woman I'm falling for with a dragon and a shadow wolf."

Lucien set his glass down with a sharp click. "You need not face that prospect at all. The dragon can be managed. Aetheria herself disapproves of any union between Lyrien and Kael due to what happened with Selene."

"And Vex?"

Lucien's expression hardened. "A street rat with shadow taint? He's nothing. The trials will eliminate him naturally, and if not..." He let the implication hang.

"That's what I thought you'd say." I drained my glass. "And in principle, I agree with you."

"But?"

"But you don't know Lyrien as I do." I moved back to the balcony, my eyes tracing the distant glow of the Moon Goddess wing. "She's stubborn, passionate, loyal to a fault. If she loves them—either of them—she won't simply let them go because it's politically expedient."

"She must understand what's at stake."

"Must she?" I laughed softly. "She died and returned. She's already half-divine. Soon she'll be a goddess in her own right. Do you really think the political concerns of the elven kingdoms will outweigh her heart?"

Lucien frowned. "Then what will you do?"

The question hung between us as I considered my options. I'd spent centuries being the perfect prince—diplomatic, strategic, always putting duty first. The thought of sharing Lyrien with others twisted something primal inside me. Yet the thought of losing her entirely was worse.

"I don't know," I admitted finally. "But I won't find answers standing here."

I set down my empty glass and straightened my formal robes. The silver embroidery along the edges—marking me as royal blood—caught the light as I moved.

"Where are you going?"

"To see Lyrien."

Lucien stepped forward. "Is that wise? You've only just returned from the mortal realm. Court protocol suggests—"

"I'm not interested in protocol right now," I cut him off, a rare sharpness in my tone. "I need to understand what she wants."

"And if what she wants contradicts what's best for our kingdom? What then?"

The question stopped me at the doorway. I turned, meeting Lucien's concerned gaze.

"Then I'll face that dilemma when it comes," I said quietly. "But I won't lose her through inaction."

As I walked through the crystalline corridors toward the Moon Goddess wing, my mind raced. The strategic part of me—the prince trained from birth for leadership—cataloged all the reasons why Kael's proposal was madness. The diplomatic disaster. The potential loss of face. The complications for succession.

Yet another part—a part I'd scarcely acknowledged until meeting Lyrien—recognized the elegant solution it presented. I could have her heart without demanding exclusivity she might not be ready to give.

The guards at the entrance to the Moon Goddess wing straightened as I approached. They were not ordinary sentries but divine attendants, their eyes glowing with celestial power.

"Prince Alaric of the Eastern Elven Realms," I announced formally. "I seek audience with the heir-apparent."

The guards exchanged glances. "The Divine Successor is resting after her journey," one replied.

"Nevertheless, I must speak with her on matters of importance to the upcoming trials."

After a moment's hesitation, the guard nodded and touched a crystal embedded in the wall. It pulsed gently, sending the message.

As I waited, I found myself uncharacteristically nervous. What exactly was I hoping to achieve? To accept Kael's outrageous proposal? To reject it outright? To propose something else entirely?

For perhaps the first time in my immortal life, I had no carefully calculated plan. I only knew that standing still—allowing others to determine Lyrien's fate—was no longer acceptable.

The guard's crystal pulsed with returned light. "The Divine Successor will receive you."

I nodded my thanks and stepped forward as the massive doors swung open silently. The path to Lyrien's chambers was lined with moonflowers that glowed softly, illuminating my way through the hushed corridor.

I'd come seeking answers, but as I approached her door, I realized I didn't even know the right questions to ask. All I knew was that the thought of sharing Lyrien was intolerable—yet the thought of losing her entirely was worse.

For an elven prince trained to see every situation as a chess match, this was unfamiliar territory. My heart and my duty pulled in different directions, with Lyrien at the center of the storm.

What am I doing here? I thought as I raised my hand to knock. What am I really hoping for?

The answer came with surprising clarity: happiness. Hers first, then my own.

With that realization, I knocked on her door, stepping into whatever future awaited us both.