Chapter 73 Moon authority
The elders’ eyes lingered on him—long enough to imagine him dethroned.
Russell and Baelish exchanged knowing, cutting glances before returning their attention to Valerio.
“Very well, then,” Baelish said at last. “The girl it is.”
Valerio said nothing.
He simply watched them leave—through the doors.
Not vanish. Leave. Deliberately.
As if making a statement.
...
Moments passed like drifting wind.
Valerio did not return to his chamber.
He couldn’t.
Not when he had just assured Evyths she was safe.
Not when he wasn’t entirely certain of it himself.
Instead, he remained in his study.
Alone.
The weight of it all clawed at him.
His gaze moved across the scattered letters on his desk—reports from across Ravencroft and beyond. Noble houses. Distant allies. Border territories.
Most carried the same tone.
Relief. Celebration.
Their king had survived.
Their king had returned.
But Valerio felt none of it.
Two letters stood apart. Unopened. Recently delivered.
Hidden beneath the rest.
His fingers stilled as his eyes settled on them.
One bore the insignia of the hunters.
The other—of the werewolves.
A wolf’s head. Unmistakable.
His jaw tightened.
After everything… why would the hunters reach out?
A truce? Fear? Or something far worse?
Had his survival unsettled them enough to act?
His thoughts shifted. To the second letter.
The werewolves.
Evyths.
Did they want her back?
Did Octavio deliver the antidotes as planned?
Or had something changed?
Too many questions but not enough answers.
Valerio reached for the hunters’ letter first, breaking the seal with impatience.
His eyes scanned the contents quickly until a single line caught him.
…the earlier, the better. If what you say is true, then time is not on our side.
His gaze hardened.
That wasn’t a congratulatory message.
It was coded. Hidden beneath courtesy.
A conversation already in motion.
The letter slipped from his fingers onto the desk.
His hand rose slowly to his jaw.
“Impossible…” he murmured.
Someone had been corresponding with the hunters.
Privately. Behind his back. Within his court.
Raven? His thoughts flickered, briefly.
Octavio?
No.
His expression darkened.
No.
It couldn’t be him.
Still, the possibility lingered longer than he liked.
Valerio exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes.
Then reached for the second letter.
The one he had been avoiding.
He opened it more carefully this time.
Read it slower.
Line by line.
Until the meaning settled in.
Heavy. Unavoidable.
…under the moon’s authority, Evyths must return to fulfill her duties. My kingdom requires her guidance in a matter deemed confidential. This decision is beyond reconsideration.
—King Leon.
The temperature in the room dropped.
The letter slipped from his grasp.
Landing beside the first.
So it had come. The thing he had dreaded most.
Moon’s authority. Not a request. But a command.
Valerio leaned back in his chair, staring blankly ahead.
He knew what it meant, Evyths would obey.
Without hesitation.
Without looking back.
It was who she was.
Her devotion.
Her purpose.
Her loyalty.
And him? What would he be to her then?
His hand dragged slowly across his face.
A rare exhaustion settled into his bones.
The kind no war had ever brought him.
Moon’s authority…
The words echoed. Louder. Sharper.
Where was that same authority when she suffered?
When her own kind broke her?
When she was abandoned?
Used? Discarded?
Where was the goddess then?
Valerio scoffed under his breath.
Bitter. Low.
A soft knock interrupted him.
He didn’t need to look.
He already knew who it was.
His mother. The scent reached him first.
Familiar. Unwelcome.
The wound she left behind was still fresh.
Still open.
The door creaked open.
Closed behind her.
Valerio didn’t lift his head. He didn’t acknowledge he. Didn’t speak.
To him, she was no different from the rest of them.
Another enemy in his court.
Elena paused when she noticed the broken seals on the desk.
Her expression shifted.
Concern. Real.
She moved closer, seating herself across from him.
“Valerio, I—”
“What do you want?” His voice was calm.
Cold.
She swallowed.
Her eyes drifted briefly—to the shelves, the ancient blade, the fragments of a past she could never reclaim.
Kaya.
Her first child.
Gone.
Valerio looked like him.
Felt like him.
A constant reminder.
Her gaze returned to her son. His eyes remained lowered.
Empty.
But she felt it. The grief beneath.
The anger. The fracture.
“I thought… we could talk,” she said quietly.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Silence stretched. Burning.
“Valerio, I cannot undo what I’ve done—”
“Of course you can’t.” His voice thundered.
The shelves rattled. The air trembled.
Elena stiffened.
But she didn’t retreat. Not this time.
“You can hate me,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly. “You can punish me… but I will never stop asking for your forgiveness.”
Valerio said nothing.
His jaw clenched.
“I was selfish,” she admitted. “Ambitious. Blind. But I loved my children—”
“More than the throne?” he cut in sharply.
She faltered. That hesitation said everything.
“Enough,” Valerio muttered, leaning back. “I’m tired of everyone pretending they know better.”
“D’Arcy—”
“And stop calling me that.”
The words came quieter but sharper.
Elena inhaled slowly.
“I was chasing something I thought I didn’t have,” she said. “Power. Control. And I let others influence me—”
“Manipulate you,” he corrected coldly.
She nodded faintly.
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“Please… forgive me.”
Valerio looked away.
His silence was heavier than anger.
She leaned forward slightly.
“I’ll do anything,” she whispered. “Anything, Valerio.”
“Leave.”
Her brows furrowed.
“Except that.” Valerio didn’t respond.
The letters in front of him burned louder than her voice ever could.
Elena hesitated. Then reached for them.
She read.
Once. Twice.
Her expression shifted.
Shock, then something darker.
Her eyes snapped back to his.
“The hunters… are planning something,” she said, her voice low. “And the werewolves—Evyths must return?”
Valerio leaned forward, his arms resting on the desk.
“My thoughts exactly.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“This is Raven,” she said firmly. “It has to be. Octavio would never betray you.”
Valerio nodded once.
“I know.”
He trusted Octavio but trust didn’t erase suspicion.
Not entirely. Not anymore.
“What do you think the hunters want?” Elena asked. “And King Leon… why now?”
Valerio didn’t answer immediately.
Because the answer sat heavy in his chest.
Elena exhaled sharply, dropping the letters.
“What will you do?”
He hesistated.
“The elders forced a choice,” he said quietly.
Her gaze lifted.
“Between the throne… and Evyths.” without pausing, he continued.
“I chose her.”
Elena nodded slowly. She wasn't surprised.
Valerio’s fingers tightened slightly against the desk.
“Now the hunters are involved,” he continued. “And the werewolves are calling her back.”
His voice lowered.
Rougher now. "If she leaves…”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Elena saw it.
The fear. The anger. The inevitability
She reached for his hand.
Carefully.
This time, ge didn’t pull away.
“She will have to go,” she said gently.
“I can’t.”
“You may not have a choice—”
“I said I can’t.” His voice cracked through the room.
Sharp. Final.
Silence followed. Heavy and nforgiving.
Valerio’s eyes burned.
Not with rage but with something deeper.
“I love her… Mother.”
The word slipped out.
Unintended. The truth. .
Elena froze. Her breath caught.
For the first time in months, he had called her that.
Valerio looked away, his jaw tightening.
“I can’t let her go.”
The room fell still. Colder. Heavier.
And for the first time, truly divided.