Chapter 64

The other crown.

The morning air in Edenfall tasted like blood and salt.

Damian stood at the highest balcony of the Cross estate, watching as syndicate guards formed a perimeter around the cliffside council chamber.

Words had spread like fire through the underworld. Eva Castillo the ghost they had all believed was dead and long buried had issued a challenge.

A call to vote. Not through war.

Through bloodline. Through legacy.

She had invoked the old right. A law older than any throne in Edenfall. One that granted any surviving heir of royal lineage the right to call a syndicate tribunal and contest rule.

And it would happen tonight.

Inside the estate, I dressed in silence. A fitted black suit, lined with steel at the cuffs. No gown. No crown. No armor. The kind worn by a queen walking into war.

My fingers trembled as I clasped the necklace around my throat. The silver lock my mother had left behind still weighed heavily against my skin.

I turned as the door cracked open.

Damian entered slowly, gaze sharp, unreadable. He hasn’t touched me in days. Hasn’t kissed me since our last argument. But his eyes lingered on me now like a man starving.

“You’re really going through with this,” he said.

I looked up. “She’s not backing down. And neither am I.”

“She’s not just your sister anymore, Claire. She’s the devil with your mother’s eyes.”

“I know,” I whispered. “And I loved her once.”

Damian approached, towering, haunted. “You still do.”

I didn’t answer.

He reached for my hand. “You know the vote can swing either way. If the elders side with her….”

“I lose my crown.”

He didn’t nod. He didn’t need to.

“I’m not afraid of losing the title,” I said. “But if I lose Edenfall to someone like her…what do you think she’ll do to the people?”

Damian’s jaw clenched. “What we were all taught to do.”

We stood in silence for a moment, the storm still distant, the world poised at the edge of something ancient and cruel.

“Will you stand with me?” I asked.

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll stand behind you.”

I blinked. “Why behind?”

Damian’s voice dropped low, almost reverent. “Because no king leads a queen born for war.”

The syndicate tribunal was held in the underground chamber carved into the roots of Edenfall itself, beneath the thrones, beneath the legacy, beneath every secret blood oath.

A long obsidian table stretched across the hall, touches lit in blue flame along the walls. Every elder had taken their seat. Twelve in total. Six had been loyal to me. Toe swayed easily. Four were undecided.

At the far end of the chamber, the double doors opened.

Eva Castillo stepped in like a viper in red silk.

Her scars were no longer hidden. She wore them like armor, painted in gold. A twisted coronet sat atop her silver hair. And at her side walked Cilax. Broken but breathing. Serving as her second.

I stood at the opposite end, Damian behind me like a shadow.

The air crackled.

Eva’s voice rang out, smooth and venomous. “By the old right, I claim the legacy of the Castillo bloodline. As the elder daughter, I demand a vote to reclaim my seat as queen of Edenfall.”

Murmurs erupted.

I raised my chin. “You don’t want to rule Edenfall, you want to burn it.”

Eva’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “What I want, sister, is Justice. You had your reign. Now it’s my turn.”

One of the elders, a woman named Seraphine Delmont, banged the gavel. “Present your cases. The tribunal begins now.”

Case one. Eva Castillo.

She stood first, hands clasped. Her voice was melodic, theatrical.

“I was left to die,” she said. “By my father. My mother. My sister. I survived the fire, the laboratories, and the betrayal. I endured what no child should. And now, I return not for vengeance. But for restoration.”

She pulled a file from Cilax’s hand and threw it onto the table. “Proof of atrocities committed by Alexander Castillo. And of the syndicate’s silent consent.”

Photos spilled out. Experiments. Dead children. Research tagged with both Castillo and Cross seal.

Gasps. Hushed curses.

Eva’s voice lowered. “I offer a new Edenfall. One without dynasties. Without tyrants. Only order through truth.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Until I saw the last page. A photo of a boy. Luca. Damian’s son.

My stomach flipped.

Case Two. Claire Castillo.

I stepped forward slowly, my hands bare, my voice raw.

“I do not deny my father’s crimes,” I began. “But I was a child. Just like Eva. I had no power then. But I do now.”

I locked my eyes with every elder. “And I’ve used it to dismantle every corrupt arm of the old origin. I freed the trafficked. Broke the alliances with the cartels. I stopped the blood taxes.”

I let silence fall.

“And I am not finished.”

I turned to Eva. “You speak of the truth, but what you offer is vengeance disguised as virtue. You bring chaos. I bring change.”

Seraphine stood again. “The vote begins now.”

Each elder was called by name.

Elder Montrose? “Claire Castillo.”

Elder Gao? “Eva Castillo.” Elder Rousseau? “Claire.”

Elder Vasquez? “Eva.”

It went back and forth. Tension growing with every name.

When the sixth vote landed on my side, I exhaled.

But votes seven and eight went to Eva. Tied.

Three elders left. Nine-Claire. Ten-Eva. Eleven-Eva.

My pulse faltered. One more vote and I will lose the crown.

Then the twelfth elder rose.

A man in white with blind eyes. Elder Rahim. The oldest. The wisest.

He stepped forward.

“I have served this council for seventy years,” he said. “Seen seven kings rise and fall. Watched sisters slaughter brothers and peace torn to ribbons.”

He looked at me, then Eva.

“You both carry fire. One burns to lead. The other burns to destroy.”

He turned to the council. “My vote…is for Claire Castillo.”

The chamber erupted.

Eva didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Only her eyes burned with the promise of war.

I stepped forward, heart pounding. “The vote is sealed. The war ends now.”

Eva’s smile was slow, feral. “This war is only beginning.”

She pulled a pin from her sleeve and dropped it.

Smoke exploded across the tribunal. Screams. Chaos. Shots fired.

I lunged forward, but Cilax was already pulling Eva into the shadows. They vanished.

Damian grabbed my hand, shielding me as a glass shattered overhead. Rourke dove in, guns drawn, clearing paths.”