Chapter 75 A Pure One for the Pure People
I felt it before I knew it.
The castle has its own way of warning when something changes. It's not noise, nor movement. It's the air. It becomes denser, as if each breath had to go through an invisible decision before it existed.
When Conrad entered the room, I was already standing.
He didn't need to say anything. The way he held the parchment, folded more times than necessary, gave everything away. I reached out and he silently handed me the decree. I read it slowly, word by word, feeling the weight disguised as care.
Protection. Stability. Temporary measure.
I smiled humorlessly.
That's how it began. First, they observed. Then, they limited. Finally, they decided for you.
"I'm not trapped," I murmured.
"No," Conrad replied. "But they want you to feel it."
I folded the parchment and left it on the table. The mark on my chest reacted slightly, a subtle warning. The Link was watching. It always was.
“They’re afraid,” I said. “Not of me. Of what I know now.”
Conrad approached, resting his hand on the wall beside me. His gaze was tense, calculating possibilities I preferred not to name.
“My mother doesn’t take a step without measuring the ground,” he said. “This decree is a test. They want to see if you’ll react. If you’ll make a mistake.”
I walked to the window. Outside, the castle looked the same as always. Firm towers, guards at their posts, motionless flags. But I knew. Beneath the stone, something was moving.
“Then I can’t make a mistake,” I replied. “But I also can’t stop.”
Conrad was silent for a few seconds.
“Kael still doesn’t remember anything,” he said finally. “But whatever they discovered… it was enough for them to try to kill him.”
I closed my eyes.
The image of him lying on the ground, the black mark on his face, returned with force. Kael had always been too observant, too curious for his own good. If the erasers tried to silence him, it was because he got too close to the truth.
“They’re cleaning up traces,” I murmured. “And the council is helping, even if they pretend not to notice.”
The fragment of Moon warmed in my hand.
The path was narrowing. Not by chance, but by choice.
Solange thought she was holding me back. She thought she was pushing me within safe limits. But what she didn’t understand—or perhaps understood better than anyone—was that the Link doesn’t respond to walls.
It responds to movement.
And I didn’t intend to stand still while they decided, at cold tables, who deserved to exist.
I moved away from the window slowly.
The castle seemed to sleep, but I knew it was pretense. There were too many footsteps in the corridors, whispers that ceased when I passed, doors closed with exaggerated care. It wasn’t paranoia. It was politics.
“They’ve already started,” I said.
Conrad watched me silently. I knew that look. It was the same look he had before a battle, when he had already accepted that conflict was inevitable, but was still searching for the best way to protect those by his side.
“My mother is going to call another meeting,” he said. “Unofficial. With a few alphas. Those who still follow her without question.”
“And Steven,” I added.
Conrad nodded, tense. “He never shows up by chance.”
I felt the mark throb, stronger now. It didn’t hurt. It was a warning. As if the Bond was pointing in invisible directions that only I could feel.
“Kael isn’t just a victim,” I murmured. “He’s proof.”
Conrad frowned. “Of what?”
“That someone inside the castle is helping the erasers.” I took a deep breath. “They wouldn’t have been able to get to him that way if they didn’t know exactly where to look.”
The silence between us grew heavy.
“Do you think it’s someone from the council?” he finally asked.
“I think it’s someone hiding behind the word ‘order’.” I looked at him. “And that includes more people than you’d like.”
Conrad ran a hand through his hair, clearly torn between his duty as king and his duty as son. “If I accuse without proof, I give her exactly what she wants.”
“I know,” I replied. “That’s why we won’t accuse.”
He stared at me, surprised. “Then what are we going to do?”
I moved closer to him, speaking softly, as if the walls could hear. “We’ll observe. Let them move. Those who help the erasers don’t know how to stay still for long.”
The fragment of Moon grew hot again, almost burning my skin. I closed my hand around it, feeling a certainty forming inside me.
“The path is still open,” I said. “And he doesn’t just take it outside the castle.”
Conrad took a deep breath. “This is dangerous.”
“Everything is,” I replied. “But waiting is worse.”
On the other side of the castle, Kael slept dreamlessly, his mind too empty to be natural. And somewhere between the stone corridors and the council chambers, Solange was already moving her pieces.
They thought the game was still theirs.
But the Link had awakened.
And so had I.
The first cry came from afar.
I thought it was my imagination, an echo of weariness or the restless mark on my chest. But then another rose, louder. And another. Different voices, united by the same name.
“Selena.”
I felt Conrad stiffen beside me.
We walked to the balcony with quick steps. When I looked down, the main courtyard was already full. It wasn’t a disorderly crowd. It was too organized. People lined up, torches raised, ancient symbols painted on their arms.
“We want Selena as queen!”
“Selena is of our blood!”
“A pure queen for a pure kingdom!”
Each phrase was a blow.
My stomach churned. Not at the name itself, but at what it represented. Selena was safe. Known. Molded to please. Everything I wasn’t.
Conrad gripped the balustrade tightly. “This was provoked.”
“I know,” I replied, my voice low. “The people don’t move like this on their own.”
Among the people, I saw familiar faces. Castle servants. Old families. Lesser Alphas. People who smiled at me during the day and now cried out for another queen at night.
“They’re not just asking for Selena,” I murmured. “They’re asking for the past back.”
Her name spread like dry fire. Each repetition extinguished a little of what I represented: change, truth, rupture. Conrad turned to me, his gaze torn between anger and pain. “I never promised her anything.”
“But they promised for you,” I replied. “Before I even existed here.”
The torches rose higher. The chorus grew louder. The entire castle seemed to tremble under the weight of that imposed choice.
I felt the mark pulsing, firm, like a heart that refuses to stop.
They wanted a queen who wouldn't ask questions.
But the Bond doesn't awaken to keep silent.
And, looking at that crowd, I understood that the true judgment of the kingdom wouldn't happen in the hall.
It would happen there.
Before everyone.