Chapter 24 THE QUEEN’S FATHER.

Chapter 24 THE QUEEN’S FATHER.


Seren’s POV.

The wooden wolf didn’t feel like warmth in arms anymore.

Hours ago, I was dancing in a secret garden, convinced I was the luckiest woman in the world. 

Now, it feels like a distant memory. A fairytale.

Now all I could think about was the fact that Draven was keeping something from me.

I paced the room, my mind a chaotic mess. 

The Queen’s father has escaped. The words played on a loop in my mind. 

If that man was a Queen's father, and I was the Queen... then he was my father?

But Draven had said he was a prisoner. He had said he was dangerous.

A soft thud at the window made me jump. 

I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. 

It wasn't the wind. A small, white envelope was wedged into the frame of the balcony door, fluttering.

My breath hitched. I checked the  door Draven had ordered me to lock. I was supposed to be safe. I was supposed to be waiting for him.

But I opened the balcony door and took the letter,  grabbed the letter and tore it open.

Seren,

I heard you lost memory and there is no way Draven would have told you about me. But I am the man who raised you, your father. Draven is a murderer and has been lying to you for a long time. If you want the truth about who you are and who he really is, come to the Old Chapel in the Wards at midnight. Come alone. If you tell him, you will never see me alive.

Your Father.

My hands trembled with the paper  in my hand. 

My father. 

I didn't have a face to match the title, but I had spent so long looking into Draven’s eyes for my identity. What if I could finally learn the truth?

The door to the bedroom swung open.

I didn't have time to hide it. I didn't have time to think. 

Draven stepped in,  his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He looked exhausted, but the second his eyes landed on me and then the paper in my hand, a look crossed his face 

"What is that?" 

I didn't lie. I couldn't. "A letter. From my father."

Before I could blink, he was in my space, his scent of sandalwood and something metallic—blood?—wrapping around me. 

He took the letter from my hands.

His eyes scanned the page. 

A muscle jumped in his jaw, and for a second, I thought he would break something.

It is the first time I have seen him this angry.

He crumpled the paper, his knuckles white.

"This is a lie, Seren," he said, "A cruel planned lie."

"How do you know?" I whispered, my voice shaking. "I don't remember him, Draven. I don't remember anything! What if he’s telling the truth? What if my father who escaped from the cell wants to see me?”

Draven grabbed my shoulders. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me focus on him.

"Listen to me. Your father is dead. He died years ago in the Wards. I saw the body myself. This... this thing in the cells is not your blood."

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "But the guard said he was the Queen’s father. If I am your Queen—"

"He was the Late Queen’s father," Draven snapped.

The statement hung.

The Late Queen. I had heard the servants whisper it.

"Who was she?" I asked, my heart thudding painfully. "The servants talk about her like she’s a ghost. Was she... your mother? Is the man in the cell your grandfather?"

Draven’s expression shifted, unreadable. He let out a long breath and reached up, cupping my face with hands that were still trembling from his rage.

"Yes," 

The word was so simple,  that I almost believed it instantly.

"She was my mother," he continued, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "The Late Queen. My grandfather... he lost his mind when she died. He blamed me and tried to take the throne, tried to destroy everything I built. I had to lock him away, Seren. For the safety of the kingdom. For your safety."

I looked into his dark eyes. I wanted to sink into them. I wanted to believe that the man who carved me a wooden wolf was incapable of lying to me.

"Then why did the letter say he’s my father?" I asked.

"Because he knows you are my greatest weakness," Draven rasped. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine. "He knows that if he can make you doubt me, he wins. He’s using your amnesia as a weapon, little bird. He wants to lure you out so he can kill you to get to me."

"He said you have been lying to me" I whispered.

Draven pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around my waist like iron bands. "I didn't lie you. I’m protecting you from the parts of it that would break you. You don't need the ghosts, Seren. You have me. You have the garden. Isn't that enough?"

He kissed me then, but it wasn't the sweet, playful kiss from the garden. It was possessive. It was a claim. It was the kiss of a man who was terrified of losing his most prized possession.

"I won't let them take you," he muttered against my skin. "I’ll burn the Wards to the ground before I let anyone touch you."

He stayed with me, his body a warm weight beside me. But even as I drifted off, the lie felt like a  stone in my throat.

I couldn’t swallow it.

Draven thought he had convinced me. He thought he had closed the door on my curiosity.

But as I lay there in the dark, listening to the  sound of the man I loved, breathing—the man who might be a monster—I realized something.

Draven said his mother was the Late Queen. But the guard  had looked at me with pity.

And Draven hadn't just looked angry. He had looked guilty.

Draven was a King, and a King’s first duty was to protect his crown.

But I was beginning to realize that in this palace, the crown was made of secrets.

I waited until Draven’s breathing became deep and even. Slowly, carefully, I slid out from under his arm. 

I grabbed my cloak and the wooden wolf.

I didn't know if the man in the Wards was my father. I didn't know if Draven was a savior or a jailer.

But I knew one thing: I couldn't live in with the lies anymore.

Not when I didn’t know who to trust and who not to.

I slipped out the door, leaving the King alone in his bed.