Chapter 119

Chapter 119
Raven’s pov;

The dream began the same way it always did, an unnatural stillness, the kind that felt as though the whole world had stopped breathing. I stood in the center of the sacred temple, its ancient pillars rising into shadowed heights, the air thick with incense that curled like ghostly fingers. The floor beneath me shimmered with silver light, tracing the sigils of the old kings, but the light was fractured, splintering into cracks that spider-webbed outward.

Somewhere beyond the darkness, a child cried.

My heart lurched.

I tried to move toward the sound, but the temple trembled violently, sending dust down in a slow rain from the carved ceiling. The ancient gold statues that lined the hall groaned under invisible weight. A wind, cold and reeking of ash, rushed through the sacred space, extinguishing the torches one by one until only a single brazier remained lit in front of the altar.

That was when the voice came.

Choose.

It wasn’t a shout, not even a whisper. It was a presence, heavy and unavoidable, sliding into my thoughts like molten metal, burning without flame.

‘Choose the kingdom… or the child.’

The words echoed through me, over and over, as the last torch sputtered out. The cracks in the floor widened, swallowing the sigils, the marble splitting open like flesh under a blade. Through the gaps, I saw fire. I smelled blood.

And then the altar collapsed.

The temple’s great dome gave way, raining shards of stone and gold. I screamed—

and woke up with my own voice still ringing in my ears.

I sat up too quickly, my nightgown clinging to my damp skin. My heart hammered against my ribs, and the air in my chamber felt suffocatingly warm despite the predawn chill seeping through the windows. My hair was plastered to my temples, my hands shaking so hard I almost knocked over the glass of water on my bedside table.

I had dreamed of the temple before, but never like that. Never with that choice.

“Kingdom or child…” I whispered into the darkness. My own voice felt foreign, hoarse. What child? Mine? The one o still washt sure I was carrying? And why did the word kingdom taste like iron in my mouth?

I barely slept after that. I do need to see a healer, I felt like I had a life In me, but I couldn’t detect anything. I needed another person to help me.

By the time the sun rose, I was already dressed, my hair pinned back in a severe knot that made my temples ache. I told myself it was just a dream, a relic of my own anxieties, but it clung to me like smoke.

I stepped into the council hall that morning expecting the usual tension, but the air was different today. It wasn’t just tense, it was brittle, as though one wrong word would splinter it completely. I was sure that it was due to princess Ellie’s presence. Nobody in the council expected that we were going to have a Belgravian sit in our midst.

The lords and ladies were gathered earlier than usual, their voices low, their eyes darting toward the far end of the table where Lord Merek’s chair sat empty. The chair had always seemed too large for the quiet, broad-shouldered man who occupied it. But it was not only his chair that sat empty. The chair where princess Ellie should be was also empty and Liam was late, lord vale’s chair, right in the middle was also empty, but he was someone who came late anyways.

Lord Halren’s voice broke through the murmurs. “Is it true?” His tone was uncharacteristically subdued, but the question carried across the room.

Lady Isolde’s lips tightened. “It’s confirmed. Lord Vale was found dead in his estate at dawn.”

The room stilled.

I didn’t sit. My fingers curled at my sides, nails biting into my palms. “How?” I scrunched my face. Lord vale was one of the lords on our side, one of the first who openly showed his disdain for Joanna.

Her eyes flicked to me, unreadable. “Assassination. Poison, by the looks of it.”

My breath left me in a slow, controlled exhale. Poison. The same method favored by those who wanted to erase without spectacle. It was clean, quick and political. Just like it had been with Merek.

The murmurs resumed, sharper this time. I could see the calculations running behind the councilors’ eyes. Merek’s death had shifted the balance. And now this? With this, the faction loyal to Annalise and by extension, Joanna, held a majority.

That realization hit me like a slap.

“This was no random act,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. I stepped forward, every gaze snapping to me. “We all know who benefits most from his death.”

Lady joanna leaned back in her chair, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Careful, Raven. That sounds like an accusation.”

“It is an accusation, my lady.” My pulse was a drumbeat in my ears, but I didn’t waver. “Lord Vale stood in the way of your schemes. He refused to bow to pressure from certain… influences. And now he’s gone.”

Annalise’s smile widened as though I’d walked straight into her trap. “And who, pray tell, are these ‘influences’?”

I turned, letting my gaze sweep the room until it landed on Joanna. She was seated at the far right, dressed in her usual pale silks, her face the picture of serene disinterest. But her eyes, those cold, calculating eyes, watched me like a hawk.

“You,” I said. The word felt like a blade leaving its sheath. “You’ve been consolidating power in this council for months. Merek was the first and now, with lord vale being the last obstacle between you and complete control, you took him out.”

The hall erupted. Voices overlapped, some shouting in outrage, others in alarm. Joanna didn’t flinch. She simply tilted her head, as though studying an amusing insect.

“My dear,” she said, her voice a perfect, icy calm, “you’ve clearly let your imagination run wild. Assassination? Influence? Such dangerous words from someone in your position.”

I stepped closer. “You think hiding behind veiled threats will work on me? Lord vale is dead because you needed him out of the way. And you know it.”

The uproar intensified. Lord Halren tried to call for order, but no one was listening. Lady Isolde’s eyes flicked between us like she was watching a duel, her expression unreadable.

Joanna rose to her feet, slow and deliberate. “Accusations without proof are the tools of the desperate, Raven. If you had evidence, you would present it. Instead, you stand here throwing words like daggers, hoping one will stick.”

My hands trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer force of holding back what I wanted to do, what I could do if not for the dozen witnesses.

“Sometimes,” I said, my voice dropping to something colder, “the absence of proof is the proof.”

A hush rippled through the room.

Joanna’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “How poetic. Unfortunately for you, the council prefers facts to riddles. And the fact is that both lord merek and lord vale are dead, and the kingdom must move forward. We will appoint a new representative to their seat at once.”

Her faction murmured their agreement. It was already decided. Both seats would be filled by someone loyal to them, tightening their grip until it choked the rest of us.

I wanted to scream. Instead, I straightened my spine, forcing my breathing into a steady rhythm. “Go ahead. Stack the council. But remember this, power gained through blood never holds.”

Joanna didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her silence was victory enough.