Chapter 73 The Coldest Dominance
Chapter 73 The Coldest Dominance
Chapter 73: The Coldest Dominance
And just like that, there was this strong and aggressive sound of classic boots coming from the outer corridors, growing louder with every heartbeat.
The royal guard was finally descending upon the ruined ballroom.
Sebastian didn’t flinch. Strangely, the prince looked more relaxed than usual.
Maybe it was because of what he already had planned for his bride and that crown traitor…or maybe, the crown prince was just one insane psycopath?
His hand remained resting casually on Neria’s waist, his fingers dug slowly into the midnight velvet as if reminded everyone in the room exactly where she stood.
He turned his gaze slowly toward Alistair….
That silence that fell between the two men was thicker than the smoke still curling off the melted stone archways.
"You look pale, Captain," the corners of his lips went up and the prince’s voice seemed to change into that usual smooth, quiet register that made the hairs on Neria’s arms stand up.
"Is it the residual psychic weight of the dragon, or are you finally realising the depth of the grave you have dug for yourself?"
Alistair tightened his grip on the hilt of his golden sword, his knuckles looked like a stark, bloodless white. "My men came here to secure the palace, Your Highness. The chaos was not-"
"Do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence," Sebastian interrupted, cutting through the air like a razor.
He took a single step forward, leaving Neria’s side just enough to tower over the kneeling knight.
"Your men flooded the ballroom with loaded crossbows the exact moment the doors were breached. You did not bring guards to protect the crown, Alistair. You opened the gates for a coup."
"Sebastian, please," Lyra whimpered from the steps of the dais, her hands clutched her ash-stained white dress. "Alistair is the Captain of the Gate. He is the hero of the realm. He wouldn't-"
"Be silent, Lyra," Sebastian snapped without looking at her, his blue eyes entirely were glaring at the knight. "The adults are speaking."
Neria watched the interaction carefully. She was slowly trying to remove that stuck air in her throat.
The tension in the room was suffocating. She could feel the raw, predatory energy coming off Sebastian.
The crown prince wasn't just angry; he was entirely in control, turning a life-threatening betrayal into a flawless political execution.
"You could execute me right here," Alistair whispered, setting his jaw into a hard, stubborn line as he stared up at the prince. "Go ahead. Tell the King. Tell the guards when they walk through that door. Let them know that the golden boy of the empire is a traitor."
"Execute you?" Sebastian chuckled, but that sound that left his lips seemed to be filled with pure snake’s venom.
He leaned down as his face was just mere inches from Alistair's, his silver hair fell forward to shadow his eyes. "And make you a martyr for your pathetic little revolution? I think not. You are far too useful to me alive."
Alistair blinked, his glassy eyes widened in confusion. "What?"
"You are going to stand up, you are going to sheathe that butter knife, and you are going to tell the royal guard that you single-handedly routed the rebel forces," Sebastian murmured.
Even Neria could feel that breath against the knight's face.
"You will keep your mouth shut about your lineage, you will keep your mouth shut about your friends, and you will play the loyal, obedient dog of the crown until I tell you otherwise."
"You want me to lie to the King?" Alistair asked slowly, while clearly shaking with rage and most likely fear.
"I want you to understand your place," Sebastian hissed and suddenly his fingers reached out to grip the golden collar of Alistair’s armor, pulling the heavier man upward until they were eye-to-eye.
“Seba-“
"I hold the leash to your life, Captain. If you so much as breathe a word of your little rebellion to anyone, I will not just execute you. I will personally hunt down every single contact in your ledger, bleed them on the palace steps, and make you watch before I take your head. Do you understand me?"
Neria took a slow step back and blinked way too many times.
She had seen Sebastian cruel before, but this was a masterclass in psychological domination. He wasn't just breaking Alistair's rebellion; he was breaking his spirit.
Alistair’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. The fierce, heroic light in his eyes looked completely vanished…it was most likely replaced by the crushing pressure of absolute defeat.
"I understand, Your Highness."
"Good," Sebastian whispered, releasing the armor with a dismissive shove that made Alistair stumble back against the stone pillar. "Keep it lowkey, Captain. Play your part, and perhaps I will let you keep your title."
Sebastian turned back to Neria, his terrifying expression instantly melted into that dark, satisfied smirk as his eyes mapped her flushed face.
The prince walked back to her and slid his hand smoothly around her waist once more, pulling her closer against his chest.
"You see, Neria?" Sebastian murmured next to her ear, and purposely touching the sensitive skin with his lower lip just beneath her earlobe, sending a violent shiver down her spine despite the horror of the room.
"Everyone learns to obey eventually. Now, let us welcome my father."