Chapter 15 The Cage of Gold
Isabella's hands trembled as she opened the door and ushered Elias into the room.
She breathed heavily, looking around and taking everything in as if trying to weigh her decision: stay or run. Submit or fight. Trust or flee.
"Mommy?" Elias tugged at her hand gently, blue eyes peering up at her face. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, sniffing as she forced a smile. "I am, baby."
A soft knock at the door. Isabella didn't bother responding, but it opened anyway.
"Betty," Elias exclaimed, brightening.
"I've got him," Betty said gently, taking Elias's hand. Her eyes met Isabella's briefly, full of pity and understanding. The palace gossip had clearly reached her before they'd even left the council chamber.
"Come on, little man," Betty continued, guiding Elias toward the door. "Let's get those pancakes you've been craving."
The moment the door closed behind them, Isabella crumbled.
Her legs gave out. She slid down the wall until she sat on the cold marble floor, carefully maintaining composure, shattering like glass.
The events of the past few hours played on repeat in her mind. She'd been made to stand before the council, close to a hundred ancient vampires, and prove her loyalty, defend her blood, justify her very existence.
All for something completely beyond her control.
But their questions hadn't cut as deep as his.
Lucien's face appeared vivid in her memory, cold and suspicious as he'd asked the question that had split her heart in two:
"Is Elias mine?"
Isabella let out a broken laugh, tears streaming down her face.
How could he?
How dare he?
The bond flared in her chest, a sharp reminder of their connection. She felt him approaching even before the door opened.
She stayed on the floor, deliberately ignoring his presence despite how hard it was.
"We need to talk," Lucien said the moment he stepped inside.
He chose to ignore the image before him, Isabella on the floor, tears on her cheeks, nothing like the fierce woman who'd faced down the council earlier.
She stared at him coldly before forcing herself to stand, wiping her face with sharp, angry movements.
"Talk?" Her voice dripped mockery. "What's left to say? You made yourself perfectly clear today."
Lucien matched her cold stare. "I said nothing wrong."
Isabella laughed harshly. "You cannot be serious."
"Watch it." His tone carried a clear warning.
"Or what?" She glared at him. "You'll accuse me of trapping you? Of using my blood to manipulate you into fathering a child?"
"Is this about the question?" Understanding flickered across his face. "About Elias?"
Instead of answering, she turned and walked to Elias's closet. She grabbed a bag from the shelf and began stuffing his favourite things inside.
"What are you doing?" His voice was ice.
"What does it look like?" She didn't turn around. "He's apparently not your son, so we're leaving. I won't stand here and be accused, disrespected, humiliated…"
"Fine."
She went very still. Surely she'd misheard.
Isabella turned slowly, bag clutched in her hands.
"Fine?" The word came out strangled. "What do you mean, 'fine'?"
"You can leave if you want." Lucien's expression remained carved from stone. "But Elias stays here. He's my son and the heir to the Blackthorne empire. He'll be trained nowhere but in this palace. With his father."
The world tilted.
"He's suddenly your child?" Her voice rose with bitter sarcasm. "How convenient. Now that the council's confirmed him, now that they've examined him like livestock and declared him acceptable…" her voice trailed as she breathed heavily.
"He's been confirmed," Lucien interrupted coldly.
"By whom?" Isabella's laugh was hollow, broken. "By the same council that wanted to perform an untested ritual on him? The one with death as the consequence if it failed?"
"Don't be foolish, Isabella." His jaw tightened. "The resemblance is undeniable. The council accepts him as my heir. Besides, I never would have allowed it.
"Oh, how beautiful." She stepped back, shaking her head as realisation crashed over her. "I didn't realise you needed their permission to believe your own son was yours.”
She turned her back on him. “Besides, I never would have allowed it,” she mimicked, her face scrunched like his.
"That’s not what I'm saying. You know I never would have allowed that."
"You told me you felt me get pregnant through the bond!" Her voice cracked. "You said you felt every kick, every movement. And when it mattered most, when it was time to defend me, to defend us, she screamed, “You turned on me."
"I didn't turn on you. I asked a legitimate question…"
"Legitimate?" She cut him off, fury and pain bleeding together. "There was nothing legitimate about doubting your own child in front of the entire council!"
Lucien's expression remained unchanged. "I've told you all I need to say."
He turned toward the door.
"You used me."
Her voice was quiet, but it stopped him with his hand on the doorknob.
He paused but didn't turn around.
"It was politically convenient, wasn't it?" The words came out broken, raw. "The bond. The pregnancy. All of it. You needed an heir, and I was... available. Desperate enough to believe you actually wanted me."
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then his shoulders tensed.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said coldly.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Isabella stood frozen in the centre of the room, surrounded by Elias's scattered toys, the half-packed bag still clutched in her white-knuckled hands.
The bond hummed in her chest, aching for connection, for reconciliation.
She ignored it. She looked around Elias's room. She could leave now. Leave while he was out.
Her heart ached at the thought of it. She would be termed selfish by all and sundry who heard her story.
They would blame her and ask her why she had not chosen to stay and fight.
But she wanted to be selfish. Just for once in her life. She wanted to choose herself, be her number one priority.
“He's going to suffer.” She whispered as the tears coursed through her cheeks. If she left now, her son would suffer and he would hate her.
Just the way she despised her own parents for leaving her, he would despise her.
And Lucien?
He was going to marry someone else. Have someone bear his children and Elias would have to contend for a position in his father's life.
She shook her head, wiping the tears off her face. She would stay.
It was not like she had that much of a choice.
Lucien was very influential. She would not get a job and would be forced to live with Lord Harlan for the rest of her life.
She stepped out, a determined expression etched on her face as she made her way to Lucien's study.
He was there.
She knocked slightly and stepped in.
“I've made my decision.” Her eyes were cold.
He nodded, urging her on. “Hopefully, it's a good one.” He muttered just as she opened her mouth to speak.
She swallowed, glaring at him. “I've decided to stay, but I'll live here with you on my terms.”
Lucien had an amused expression plastered on his face. “Let's hear it.”
“I want to have my own quarters.” She began, watching him closely, undeterred by the loose smile playing on his lips.
“That's not possible.” He muttered, and waved his hand, urging her to go on.
“This is no joke, Lucien.” Her voice was hard.
“Never said it was.” He was enjoying it. Her anger and demands.
She ignored him. “I'll have my own quarters and be treated like the queen I am. I will be given full respect, and in turn, I will perform my queenly duties.” She breathed hard from talking too fast.
Lucien nodded. “Is that all?”
“I will not be summoned by the council again.”
He shook his head. “That is totally beyond my control.”
“I will not be summoned by the council again,” she insisted, ignoring his comment.
Lucien nodded.
“And Elias, will be treated like the heir he rightfully is, no matter the animosity between us.”
He nodded gravely. “He's my son as well.”
Isabella looked ahead. “No one. And I repeat, no one will ever make fun of our moonlit blood. A death penalty for such.”
“That's preposterous.” He spat. “I don't make the rules and you know that.”
She shook her head. “You're the king. You know your way around these things.”
Lucien shook his head. “That's extreme. People have the right to say what they want to say. There's no way I would navigate these things with the approval of the council. It's impossible.”
The smile had been wiped off his face when he realised how serious she was.
Isabella nodded. “Fine then, every other agreement is off the table. You either agree to this, or I'll leave.”
She turned to him, “And I won't leave with my son. I may not have the power to leave, but I'll leave one day.”
Her stare was hard. “And if I don't, I'll die trying.”