2 weeks later

The royal meeting chamber of Drakoryth Palace had never felt colder.

Dark stone walls hummed faintly with containment spells. The massive obsidian table reflected every motion like still water. The air between the two sides of the room was so sharp it could cut skin.

At the head sat King Cael Arcadia, composed and quietly commanding.

Queen Vireth Drakareth Vezmera sat to his right—ice-wrapped fury cloaked in crimson. Her son Sylus was unreadable, calm. And behind them, King Thareon Drakareth, motionless as stone.

Across from them: Liana Ashborn, visibly agitated but dressed to impress. Beside her sat Marcus Ashborn—her father and head of House Ashborn. But titles meant little in this room.

Because his queen sat at the table across from him.

Vireth began without a preamble, sliding a sealed folder toward Cael. “Seventeen complaints. Students of Arcadia Academy filed all. Incidents include targeted harassment, coercive threats, magical intimidation, and a physical confrontation with a royal student.”

Marcus opened his mouth, but Vireth didn’t even glance at him. “I’m not accepting rebuttal. The evidence is overwhelming.”

Cael opened the file, reviewing the pages in silence.

Vireth continued coolly. “The documentation was submitted after Renee Arcadia Nosfera encouraged victims of abuse to come forward. She made a public call for change. These complaints came in because she permitted those students to speak. Your daughter did not just break a contract—she poisoned the environment she was meant to thrive in.”

Liana’s expression twisted. “Oh please—Renee’s no saint. Everyone thinks she’s some perfect prodigy, but she’s cold. Condescending. She walks like she owns the school.”

Vireth’s gaze snapped toward her.

“You will watch your mouth.”

The words landed like an ancient spell.

“Because you’re not speaking about a random girl in uniform. You are insulting the Third Princess of Arcadia and the daughter of Princess Valethrina Nosfera. That means she holds the authority of both royal houses—Arcadia and Nosfera.”

She leaned forward slightly, her voice velvet and sharp. “And you’ve already spilled your arrogance before one of those houses. Don’t make the mistake of challenging both.”

Liana scoffed and flung her hands. “Fine! But if I’m so unworthy, what about him?” She jabbed a finger toward Sylus. “Your precious prince has been sleeping around like a dog in heat for years. Cold. Arrogant. Using people. You want me punished, and he gets a pass?”

The silence that followed was not empty—it was charged.

Vireth stood slowly.

“Rumors,” she said, her voice cold enough to silence flame. “You offer hearsay—baseless accusations. No names. No statements. No proof. Meanwhile—”

She tapped the folder Cael still held.

“—I have signed reports filed by seventeen students and footage from multiple angles. Facts. Not jealousy.”

Liana’s mouth opened again—but Thareon shifted forward this time, silent but imposing.

She went still.

And then Vireth stepped fully into her role—not just as a queen or a mother, but as the head of House Vezmera.

“You have not only broken the royal engagement,” she said, “you have violated the accords of coexistence placed by the Demon Lord himself. You are a representative of a bloodline that serves House Vezmera. And your disgrace reflects upon me.”

She stepped closer. “I will not allow it.”

Liana’s voice cracked. “What—you’re going to exile me?”

Vireth’s eyes gleamed. “Yes. Effective immediately, you are banned from the human world. Indefinitely. You will remain in Zion under observation until your behavior reflects the bare minimum standard expected of a demon noble under my command.”

Marcus Ashborn said nothing.

Because he knew.

Cael sealed the contract. “Dissolution confirmed. Engagement annulled.”

“Your portal to Zion opens at sunset. You leave today.” Thareon finally spoke, his voice low and steady—carrying quiet authority.

Sylus stood from his seat without hesitation. He smoothed the front of his jacket with calm precision, his expression unreadable but unmistakably relieved.

“Well,” he said with a faint smirk, “I didn’t think I’d owe my freedom to a girl I’ve never spoken to.”

He glanced toward his mother. “Remind me to thank Renee Arcadia Nosfera properly.”

Vireth’s smile was razor-sharp. “Do that.”

Few minutes later, the Drakoryth royal meeting chamber doors closed with a solemn thud, echoing like the final strike of a gavel.

The Ashborns were gone—Liana red-eyed but silent, Marcus stiff with quiet shame. They left through the eastern gate under watch, their legacy bruised and their standing with House Vezmera shattered.

The royal family of Drakoryth—King Thareon, Queen Vireth, and their sons Sylus and Sirius—walked side-by-side with King Cael Arcadia down the long corridor toward the palace’s outer entrance.

It was quiet at first.

Then Vireth broke the silence. “So… where is she?”

Cael glanced sideways. “Who?”

“Renee,” Vireth said without pause. “Don’t tell me you traveled without your daughter. I haven’t seen her in too long.”

Cael exhaled. “She’s not well. She’s recovering.”

Vireth’s stride slowed. “What happened?”

Sirius tilted his head. “Is it bad?”

Cael frowned. “I don’t know.”

That answer made all three Vezmeras pause.

“She said it was the aftereffects of a ritual,” Cael continued, his voice tight. “But she didn’t say which one. She wouldn’t elaborate.”

Vireth’s brows lifted. “You don’t know what ritual your daughter performed?”

“She specifically forbade us from checking on her,” Cael said, the irritation in his voice barely masked. “She’s recovering in her private estate. Only Damien, her circle, and Cecil are with her.”

“Cecil Abara?” Vireth asked sharply, stopping entirely. “As in the head of the Abara clan?”

Cael gave a scoff. “Yes. As you can imagine, this is doing wonders for our blood pressure.”

Vireth folded her arms. “If Cecil is there personally, it’s not minor. That man doesn't show up unless it's life-threatening or magically catastrophic.”

“Believe me, I’ve done the math,” Cael muttered. “But she’s locked the perimeter with her wards, and Cecil reinforced them. Not even Valethrina can cross without triggering a warning.”

Sirius whistled softly. “She doesn’t want anyone near her.”

“She says she’ll be fine,” Cael said, though his voice didn’t quite believe it. “And I trust Cecil—if something was failing, he’d contact us.”

They continued walking in tense silence.

After a moment, Cael added, “He’ll be staying in Arcadia, by the way. The entire Abara clan is relocating.”

That made Vireth stop again. “Why?”

“She asked,” Cael replied simply. “Cecil told her their current territory is being swallowed by development—too much noise and steel. Healers need nature. Quiet. She offered sanctuary in the northern ranges. He accepted.”

Vireth’s jaw tightened slightly. “So she’s taking responsibility for entire clans now.”

“She’s offering shelter to people she trusts,” Cael replied. “I didn’t stop her.”

Vireth said nothing, but her silence wasn’t neutral.

Cael raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” she said calmly. “But you know how I feel about sudden moves on the board.”

Cael smirked faintly. “She’s your goddaughter. You should know she is the board.”

At that, Vireth finally allowed the ghost of a smile. “Unfortunately.”

They reached the outer steps, where a sleek dark car awaited the Drakoryth delegation.

Cael turned toward them, expression softening just slightly. “Thank you for today. I know the Ashborn issue was... personal.”

Vireth nodded. “You don’t let rot linger in your house. Neither will I.”

Cael extended a hand to Thareon. “I’ll keep you updated. On Renee.”

Thareon shook it firmly. “Please do.”

Sylus watched the king for a long moment as he turned to leave—something unreadable in his gaze.

Then, the Arcadian monarch disappeared down the hall, leaving the Vezmera family under the heavy sky, waiting for their car.

Sirius broke the silence. “So. Ree’s alive but quarantined with one of the most powerful healers in the world, surrounded by warded walls, and none of us know why?”

“Yes,” Vireth said.

“...Classic.”

The sleek black Drakoryth royal car pulled away from the palace gates in smooth silence, its magical engine humming beneath arcane shielding. Inside, the air was still—but not calm.

Queen Vireth sat beside Thareon, her posture composed but her expression distant, her fingers drumming lightly on her thigh. Across from them, Sylus and Sirius exchanged a glance as the city blurred past the tinted windows.

Sylus studied his mother. “You’ve been frowning for ten minutes.”

Vireth didn’t answer at first.

Then, without looking up, she murmured, “I’m thinking about Renee. And the Abara situation.”

Thareon’s brow lifted. “She’s with an Abara. That means she’s in the best hands possible. Cecil wouldn’t let harm reach her.”

“That’s not what worries me,” Vireth replied quietly.

Sirius leaned forward slightly. “Then what does?”

Vireth exhaled, still staring out the window. “Healers don’t move like generals. They don’t follow power. They don’t pledge to politics or kingdoms. Healers sense. They go where they are needed most—even before the world knows they’re needed.”

Sirius blinked. “And now the head of the Abara clan is moving to Arcadia.”

Thareon’s eyes narrowed. “Not to Arcadia,” he said slowly. “Near her.”

Vireth gave a single, slight nod. “Exactly.”

Sylus crossed his arms. “They’re friends. She trusts him. There doesn’t have to be some deeper meaning.”

“There shouldn’t be,” Vireth agreed, “but something about it doesn’t align. No ruler—no one—would allow urban expansion to force out the habitat of a healer clan. Especially not the Abara.”

Thareon frowned now. “You're right. That territory was marked sacred. If they left, it wasn’t because of zoning but because they chose to leave.”

Vireth finally looked away from the window. “And when the best that the world has to offer starts orbiting one person, you have to stop and ask yourself why.”

A heavy pause filled the car.

Sylus’s gaze sharpened. “Sforza. Reed. Sinclare.”

Vireth nodded. “Each one of them elite. Each one now at her side.”

Sirius added, “Let’s not forget Alexandrina Sokolova and Eleonor Blanca. They’re with her, too. Professors, field commanders. No one has that kind of force following them.”

Thareon leaned back slightly, arms folding. “That’s not a support system. That’s an inner circle.”

Vireth’s voice dropped low. “Exactly.”

The car continued in silence for a moment, the weight of realization coiling between them.

“She’s not just gathering loyalty,” Vireth murmured. “She’s drawing convergence. People of that caliber don’t just gather—they’re pulled.”

Sirius gave a half-laugh, half-cough. “You think she’s some kind of magical gravity well?”

“I think,” Vireth said slowly, “that if Renee Arcadia Nosfera is at the center of something... the world may already be shifting around her.”

Thareon stared straight ahead. “And we may not see what that means until it’s too late.”

No one spoke after that.

But none of them stopped thinking about it.