Chapter 72 Throne or girl?
When Evyths opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the silence.
Valerio’s chamber was empty.
For a moment, she simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the stillness settle around her. It had been a long time since she had slept in a bed this soft… or woken without fear clawing at her chest.
Her mind drifted back to the night before.
His touch.
The weight of his hands on her skin. The heat of his lips. The way his eyes had devoured her—like she was something rare. Something his.
Her breath softened.
A small, proud smile tugged at her lips as her hands slowly moved to her belly.
Relief settled deep within her.
Miles away within the King's chamber, Valerio sat unmoved on his throne.
For three hours, the elders and palace officials had demanded answers.
The air was thick. Cold. Unforgiving.
Tension clung to every surface—etched into frowns, sharpened into words, revealed in the faint glint of fangs behind controlled expressions.
Octavio stood to the side, rigid, unreadable.
Queen Elena remained present as well—silent, observant. Though no longer queen in title, her presence still carried weight.
“Your Majesty…” Lord Russell Viremont finally spoke, breaking the drawn-out silence. “We cannot allow the werewolf to remain in Ravencroft.”
Valerio didn’t respond immediately.
He simply lifted a brow.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
Viremont continued, encouraged by the silence. “She has brought chaos into this kingdom. We have bent our own laws to accommodate her presence. What message does that send?”
A pause.
Then, quieter...
“What would the ancient bloodlines think? What would Dracula think of such defiance?”
A low murmur rippled through the officials.
Lord Baelish Aurelian stepped forward. “We have seen no value she brings to this court. No purpose that justifies her continued stay—”
“She saved the king’s niece,” Octavio cut in sharply.
All eyes turned to him.
“Twice.”
Aurelian scoffed lightly. “Saving Lady Crystal does not grant her the right to remain among us.”
Viremont’s lips curled. “How conveniently you defend her, Duke Octavio.”
The room shifted.
A subtle chill crept through the chamber.
“You have done so repeatedly,” Viremont added, exchanging knowing glances with the other elders. “Almost… as if you have something to hide.”
Octavio’s expression darkened.
Valerio shifted slightly on his throne, his interest piqued—but his face remained unreadable.
“We know the truth,” Viremont continued. “The secret you have kept from this court.”
Octavio frowned. “What secret?”
Valerio’s voice followed—calm, controlled.
“Yes… what secret, Russell?”
Viremont’s lips twitched.
“You impregnated the werewolf.”
Silence. Sharp. Immediate.
“What?” Valerio and Octavio spoke at the same time, their brows tightening.
“Yes,” Aurelian added. “Queen Raven revealed everything.”
Octavio let out a disbelieving scoff, stepping forward. “Revealed? You believe the words of that woman?”
An official rose abruptly. “Deny it all you want, Duke. While the king lay powerless, you violated the laws of Ravencroft—”
“How dare you.”
Octavio’s eyes flashed red.
The walls trembled faintly.
Viremont chuckled darkly. “Your loyalty has run its course, Duke. It is time to face consequences—”
“ENOUGH.”
Valerio’s voice crashed through the chamber like thunder.
The entire room stilled.
Even the air seemed to recoil.
“I have heard enough of these accusations,” he said, his tone cold and final. “The officials will leave. I will speak with the elders… and the Duke alone.”
No one argued.
They left quickly.
All except one.
Queen Elena remained.
Silence reclaimed the chamber.
Now it was only the elders.
The duke.
The king.
And the woman who watched it all.
Valerio leaned back against his throne, his fingers brushing slowly along his jaw.
Something was wrong.
This wasn’t just accusation.
This was calculated.
“What was that about, Russell?” he asked, his voice edged with quiet sarcasm.
“The truth, Your Majesty,” Viremont replied.
Valerio tilted his head slightly. “Is that so?”
His gaze flickered briefly to Octavio—still simmering with restrained rage—before returning to the elders.
“Then enlighten me.”
Aurelian stepped forward, straightening. “Queen Raven informed the council of the Duke’s… intimacy with the werewolf. A relationship that resulted in pregnancy.”
Octavio laughed under his breath, though there was no humor in it.
“And you believed her.”
“We observed enough to confirm it,” Viremont snapped. “Do not insult our intelligence.”
Valerio’s fingers curled slightly against the arm of his throne.
“And what of me?” he asked quietly.
Aurelian hesitated.
Then continued.
“You, Your Majesty… have also been accused of corruption.”
Elena inhaled sharply. “Corruption?”
“Yes,” Aurelian said, avoiding her gaze.
The room grew colder.
Not naturally.
Deliberately.
Valerio smiled.
But there was nothing warm about it.
“You accuse my Duke of defiling our laws… and now you accuse your king of being corrupted by a werewolf?”
No one answered immediately.
The pressure in the room increased.
Breathing became heavier.
Slower.
“Did Raven lie?” Viremont finally challenged.
Octavio stepped forward again. “This is absurd—”
“Stand down,” Valerio said without looking at him.
Octavio froze.
Then stepped back—barely.
Valerio rose from his throne.
Slowly.
Each step he took echoed. Measured. Controlled.
He circled the elders like a predator.
“All my life,” he began, his voice calm, “I believed the elders of this clan were wise. Unshakable. Bound by truth.”
He stopped in front of them.
“And yet, a tyrant feeds you a story… and you swallow it whole.”
“For once, Raven spoke truth,” Viremont countered firmly. “And you have not denied it.”
Valerio’s gaze sharpened.
“I have seen the Duke with the girl,” Viremont continued. “And I have seen how you treat her.”
A beat.
“Will you deny it?”
Silence stretched. Then, Valerio spoke.
“Not at all.”
Both elders stiffened.
“What?” Aurelian asked.
Viremont’s smile widened. “Then I was right. You have allowed yourself to be tainted by—”
“The same woman who saved your king.”
Valerio’s voice rose this time.
Power surged through the chamber.
Dust lifted. The elders faltered.
“She entered the crypt when none of you dared,” he continued, stepping closer. “She gave me back my life.”
Viremont’s expression flickered.
“That is… impossible.”
“And yet, it happened.”
Aurelian recovered quickly. “Even if that were true—it changes nothing. It is forbidden.”
A pause.
Then, colder he said. "She should be executed.”
The word lingered. Heavy. Deliberate.
Valerio laughed softly. Dangerously.
“You will not touch her.”
Viremont stepped forward, emboldened. “You have admitted enough. The law is clear.”
Aurelian joined him. “You will return her to her pack… or we will burn her as tradition demands.”
Silence fell.
Then Viremont delivered the final blow.
“Choose, Your Majesty.”
“Your throne… or the girl.”
For the first time, Valerio did not respond immediately.
The room held its breath.
In that silence, something shifted.
Not in the court.
But in him. The throne. The crown.
The centuries of power.
All of it stood before him.
And then, Evyths.
Her voice. Her defiance. Her trust.
Her hand over her stomach.
Their child.
His jaw tightened.
When he lifted his gaze again, there was no hesitation left.
“I choose the girl."