Chapter 159 The Limping Priestess
Adrain’s POV
I didn’t interrupt her. Didn’t call her out or make her know that I suspect her.
I just… watched.
Silently.
Carefully.
Like a hunter waiting to see where the prey would run to.
Because she would run.
And right on cue… Margaret suddenly pushed her chair back and stood up.
“Sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty. I… I need to excuse myself,” she said, placing a hand lightly against her stomach. “I’m not feeling well. My stomach is… upset. Maybe I ate something bad.”
Her voice was controlled.
But I saw it. The urgency beneath it.
I held her gaze for a second.
Two.
Long enough to let her know I wasn’t buying it. Then I leaned back slightly and waved a hand.
“Go.”
No questions.
No resistance.
That seemed to surprise her. Just a little.
But she nodded quickly and turned, walking out of the hall with measured steps that were just shy of too fast.
The doors shut behind her and the second they did, I reached for Thomas through the mindlink.
‘Thomas.’
‘He’s aware, your highness,’ he replied sharply.
Good to know that Philip is on her trail right now.
‘I want him to get everything,’ I added coldly. ‘Every word. Every move. Everything she’s hiding. I need to know what she knows about Silas.’
‘Understood, Your highness,’ Thomas replied.
I gave the faintest nod before turning my attention back to the table, my expression once again shifting into that calm, controlled mask of a king.
“Now,” I said, as if nothing had just happened, “where were we?”
The meeting didn’t slow down after that.
If anything, it sharpened.
What started as shock quickly turned into strategy. Voices rose—not in chaos, but in urgency—as the council began throwing out ideas, each one more desperate to get ahead of the threat than the last.
“We need to reinforce the borders,” one elder said, leaning forward with both hands on the table. “Double the patrol units. No one gets in or out without being accounted for.”
“That won’t be enough,” another countered. “If Silas is what we think he is, physical barriers won’t stop him. We need magical defenses.”
“Then we strengthen both,” Elder Simeon added. “Walls and wards. No half measures.”
A younger council member spoke up from the far end. “What about the allied packs? If we coordinate patrols across territories, we can create a wider surveillance net.”
“Agreed,” someone else chimed in. “And we should start training more warriors immediately. If this escalates—”
“It will escalate,” another voice cut in grimly.
The room filled with overlapping suggestions.
Fortify the borders.
Increase scouting units.
Strengthen alliances.
Prepare for war.
I let them talk.
Let them exhaust every idea, every angle, every fear sitting in the back of their minds.
Because they weren’t wrong.
Not a single one of them.
Then—
“The priestess.”
The word cut through the noise.
Heads turned.
It was Elder Rowan again, his voice thoughtful now. “We brought her here for a reason. If Silas is using black magic on this scale, then perhaps… a new ritual of fortification could be performed. Something stronger than what we currently have.”
A few nods followed.
“Yes… a full-scale ritual…”
“Reinforce the palace grounds first…”
“It could extend to the inner territories…”
I went still.
Then slowly… I turned my head.
Scanning the room.
Once.
Twice.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
“Thomas,” I said.
He stepped closer immediately. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Where is the new priestess?”
That got attention.
Thomas frowned slightly, glancing around the room as if she might just… appear.
“She was supposed to be here,” he said, confusion creeping into his voice.
A beat.
Then his eyes glazed over briefly.
Mind-link.
I watched him, silent, as he reached out to whoever had been assigned to bring her in.
A second later, he blinked and refocused.
“She’s on her way,” he said. “She’ll be here any moment.”
I held his gaze for a second longer.
Then nodded once.
“Good.”
I turned back to the council. “Continue.”
And they did.
The discussion picked up again, shifting now toward how the priestess could reinforce the kingdom’s magical defenses. Ideas were thrown around—ritual circles, blood bindings, ancient protections that hadn’t been used in decades.
But my mind—
Wasn’t fully in it.
Adrian.
Thomas’s voice slid into my head.
Philip didn’t get anything out of her.
My fingers stilled slightly against the armrest.
What do you mean?
She didn’t say much, Thomas continued. She’s heading back to the meeting room now. But…
A pause.
That alone told me I wasn’t going to like the next part.
But what?
He said she was… excited.
That made my brows pull together.
Excited?
Yes. And he heard her whisper something before she left.
I leaned back slightly, my gaze unfocused for half a second.
What did she say?
Another brief pause.
Then—
“Finally… I can breathe. My plan will work without me even lifting a finger.”
Silence.
In my head.
On my face.
But inside—
Something shifted.
My brows furrowed slightly as I processed that.
Her plan?
What plan?
And more importantly—
Why the hell was she so sure it would work?
Without her even doing anything?
That didn’t sit right.
Didn’t sit right at all.
I was still turning it over in my mind when—
The doors opened.
Every head turned.
And she walked in.
The new priestess.
She looked exactly like what you’d expect.
Long, flowing hair cascading down her back. A robe that brushed against the floor with every step, soft fabric trailing behind her like a quiet whisper. In one hand, she held a staff—carved, ancient-looking, the kind that carried weight without needing to prove it.
Calm.
Composed.
Graceful.
She moved like someone who belonged in sacred spaces.
Like someone who knew things others didn’t.
I watched her approach.
Studied every detail.
Every step.
Every breath.
And then—
I paused.
Because something else caught my eye.
I narrowed my eyes slightly, my attention still locked on the priestess as she moved further into the room.
And then I saw it.
A hitch in her step.
Subtle.
Easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention.
But I was.
My gaze dropped…just briefly…to her legs.
And I stilled.
One of them… wasn’t touching the ground properly.
It dragged slightly behind her, like it couldn’t fully reach.
Shorter.
Not by much.
But enough.
Enough to make every step uneven.
My jaw tightened just a fraction.
‘Thomas. What happened to her leg?’ I asked through the link, my tone low, controlled. ‘No one mentioned anything about the priestess having a… condition.’
Beside me, Thomas’s brows furrowed as his eyes followed her movement.
There it was.
That same flicker of confusion. Like he was discovering it for the first time.
‘I…’ he hesitated. ‘I wasn’t informed of anything like that.’
Which meant—
He was just noticing it too. Didn’t he see her when she first arrived in the palace?
Why didn’t he notice then?
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Before I could dwell on it any further…
The doors opened again and all eyes shifted.