Chapter 135: Go tell her

While Daniel and the priestess exchanged more words, Tessy’s gaze drifted back to Saphira, who was still staring at her, this time with a look Tessy couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t hostility. But it wasn’t warmth either. There was intensity in her stare, like she was analyzing Tessy, measuring something beneath her skin.

Tessy tried to dismiss it. Still, her discomfort grew.

Suddenly, a sound reached her ears. The creaking whisper of footsteps descending the grand staircase. She turned quickly, eyes snapping to the wide staircase just as Roman appeared, his tall figure emerging like a shadow from above.

His expression was unreadable at first, carved from stone and darker than usual. But the moment his eyes found her, everything changed.

A soft smile bloomed across his face, bright and familiar. The contrast was so jarring that Tessy’s breath caught in her throat.

He looked like two different people at once.

One moment, he was a stern, ruthless man who ruled with unyielding strength.

The next, he was the man who made her chest flutter with a single glance.

Roman descended the last few steps and came straight to her without sparing the priestesses a glance. Tessy wasn’t sure what she expected. Maybe a nod of acknowledgment to the guests, or even a comment about their sudden appearance.

But instead, he reached her, pulled her gently into his embrace, and kissed her, a light, possessive brush of his lips on hers.

"Welcome home, my love," he murmured, his voice for her alone.

Tessy blinked, unsure what to do with the attention, especially with seven unfamiliar pairs of eyes watching her every move. She gave a small nod, her voice lost somewhere in her throat.

"I hope you had a good time," Roman continued, stroking his thumb softly against her back.

She nodded again, slowly. "I did."

He smiled, seeming utterly oblivious to the tension in the room. Or maybe, more frighteningly, he simply didn’t care.

Tessy glanced again toward the priestesses, her attention drawn once more to Saphira, who hadn’t moved an inch. Only her eyes shifted, watching with slight irritation the way Roman held Tessy like she was the center of his world.

"Zilia," Roman greeted, his voice carrying the weight of authority, but also the chill of veiled curiosity. His hand never left Tessy’s waist. "Long time no see. To what do I owe this sudden unannounced visit?"

His sharp eyes were trained on the woman in the middle, the one whose aura spoke of practiced grace, an unyielding spine, and secrets that clung to her skin like a second robe. Zilia, the leader of the priestesses.

"We are sorry for the impromptu visit, Roman Gavriel," Zilia said, dipping her head ever so slightly, enough to mark respect. Her long platinum hair fell forward like a silken curtain, swaying with her movement.

Roman’s brow arched. "Roman Gavriel?" he repeated, his tone cool, yet amused. "Sounds strange coming from you, Zilia. You never call me by my name."

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of Zilia’s lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "That is true. But right now, there is an outsider in our midst, prompting me to watch my speech."

Roman didn’t respond right away. Instead, his eyes swept the room slowly, searching. His gaze was sharp, like that of a predator surveying territory. But his search yielded nothing, and when he looked back at Zilia, it was with open challenge.

"An outsider?" he echoed, clearly unimpressed. "I don’t see one. Matter of fact, the only outsider here in this house at this moment is you and your girls."

Zilia’s spine remained straight, her voice calm but clear. "Your majesty, there’s a human in our midst."

At that, Tessy’s ears perked. She’d been standing quietly, watching the exchange from beside Roman, trying to piece together what was going on. But when she heard Zilia refer to Roman as Your Majesty, something in her shifted. Her brow arched, a sliver of suspicion flitting across her expression, but she said nothing. She clamped her lips shut, like a woman who knew her silence might serve her better than questions at the moment.

"If you’re referring to my wife," Roman began, tightening his grip around Tessy’s waist in a slow, protective pull that pressed her even closer to his side, "I assure you she is not an outsider. She is more of an insider than any of you standing here."

He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t need to. His words were weighted, undeniable, like falling stones. "So go on, Zilia," he added. "You can speak freely."

Shock rippled across the sea of white. Brows furrowed. Eyes widened. It was Saphira who cracked first, her voice sharp with disbelief.

"Your wife?" she gasped. Her voice cut through the room like a shout. "How can she be your wife? She’s human!"

Roman turned his gaze on her immediately. So did Zilia. But Zilia’s look came with a warning sharp enough to flay skin. Saphira caught it, her mouth snapped shut instantly, lips pressed tight like a child caught misbehaving.

"Your majesty," Zilia spoke again, carefully now, like someone testing ice they weren’t sure would hold, "was it a slip of tongue when you called her your wife?"

Roman didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to, not with the look he fixed her with. It was a look that suggested her question walked dangerously close to a line that should not be crossed. A line painted in blood, history, and the kind of power that needed no explanation.

Zilia, sensing the silence stretching too long, cleared her throat softly. "I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, Your Majesty," she continued. "It’s just that... we are aware that you have found your mate. And that is the very reason why we are here. But we can’t find her anywhere. And you are declaring a human as your wife, which is very confusing."

"She’s my mate," Roman finally said.

The room reacted like a beast struck. Gasp. Shock. Disbelief painted across seven faces, all struggling to comprehend what had just been declared.

"Impossible, Your Majesty," Zilia said, almost breathlessly, as though the air had been pulled from her lungs. "Your mate is supposed to be a tribrid."

"I believe," Roman said slowly, voice now edged with steel, "I am not required to explain myself more than I already have."

His dismissal was deliberate, final, a gate slamming shut in their faces. A command. Not a suggestion.

"Of course not, Your Majesty," Zilia said quickly, bowing her head once more. "But it will be nice to clear the confusion."

"I don’t want to clear it," Roman replied, his voice darker now, colder. "I like the fact that you all are confused. I feel it’s better that way."

He paused just long enough to let the discomfort settle deep. "So save my time, Zilia. Why are you here?"

Zilia’s shoulders rose and fell with a breath that sounded like surrender, like she’d been waiting for the moment to finally get to the root of their visit.

"Right," she said. "First of all, this message has come to you three times, Your Majesty, and you turned the messenger down three times. We would like to know why you hindered one of us access to your abode."

The shift in Roman’s posture was subtle but undeniable. A flicker of irritation danced behind his eyes like a stormlight.

"Before you come to question me about unverified information next time," he said, voice low and biting, "make sure I am in a very good mood. Don’t bring your petty businesses to me."

He stepped forward slightly, and the priestesses instinctively leaned back.

"You are the chief priestess," he continued, never raising his voice, yet somehow making it echo like thunder. "I believe you have the power to find out if your messenger came to you with the truth or with lies. Do your job. Now if that is all you have to say, I need to get back to what I was doing."

He made to turn around, but Zilia’s voice came again, soft but stubborn, the way wind insists on blowing through broken windows.

"That is not all, Your Majesty."

Roman paused, head still turned away.

"I’m sorry about the earlier offending question," she continued. "But we got a message from the Moon Goddess."

That stopped him.

"We know of a darkness that is brewing in our communities," Zilia said, her tone shifting into something almost reverent. "So the Moon Goddess sent us to you. Since she has kept her end of the deal, you also need to ensure that this darkness does not consume our communities... by returning to the throne."

Silence slammed into the room like a crashing wave. Tessy blinked, stunned, but Roman... he slowly turned back to face them, his gaze like smoke and fire all at once.

"Did the Moon Goddess send you?" he asked, his words now deliberate, dissecting her claim with surgical precision. "Or did you send yourself?"

Zilia didn’t flinch. "The Moon Goddess sent us, of course. I would not come to you of my own accord unless it’s a personal issue," she said.

Roman’s jaw flexed as he stared at her. He held her eyes without blinking, without faltering.

"I had a deal with the Moon Goddess," he said finally, every word wrapped in steel. "And we are even now. If she wants another deal... she should come to me directly."

A beat passed. Roman didn’t break his gaze.

"Go tell her I said that."

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