Mute Mate: The Alpha's Obsession
Chapter 51: Echoes of Power

Chapter 51: Echoes of Power

"What makes you think we would stand by your side?" Zavren asked nonchalantly, legs crossed with arrogant ease as he leaned back in his chair. King Jude sat across from him in the vast room, while Lucas stood quietly in the corner. It was rare for one king to visit another—letters typically sufficed—unless the matter demanded a face-to-face conversation.

"King Zavren, we would be honored to partner with your kingdom in the upcoming war," King Jude said formally.

Zavren chuckled lightly, his gaze steady.

"Always for your benefit. If I recall correctly, your kingdom hasn’t had any communication with mine for years. Now, you suddenly show up and expect me to say... what, exactly?" His voice was low, his expression devoid of warmth.

King Jude, who looked to be in his late thirties—though his youthful appearance, brown hair swept neatly back, and dignified aura contradicted his age—answered calmly:

"That is precisely why I came in person. To offer my apology."

Zavren laughed again, the atmosphere growing heavier.

"An apology? And what would that do? Fight the war for you?"

A tense silence followed.

"I could have easily declined this meeting," Zavren continued. "But since you’ve left your kingdom for over a day—as a king—I suppose I should consider it. Don’t you think?"

"You’re entirely right, King Zavren. But the Vamoores seem serious this time—"

Vamoores are the Vampires.

"And you think we’re not?" Zavren interrupted, his voice sharp.

"No—King Zavren, I believe you may have misunderstood my words—"

"Then make me understand," Zavren said coldly, watching him.

King Jude cleared his throat. "The Vampire King sent me a letter."

"Oh, truly? That’s wonderful news," Zavren replied sarcastically.

King Jude blinked in surprise. The rumors about the Alpha King’s unpredictability... they weren’t exaggerated. No one could tell if he was serious or simply toying with you.

"You’ve heard about the bloodcursed beast roaming these lands, haven’t you?" Zavren asked, idly stroking his chin, his gaze blank as it locked onto Jude. "Not even a word of condolence for those who died after being injected with that serum... sent by Vrazen."

The use of the Vampire King’s name without title made King Jude’s eyes widen. Even among royals, it was customary to use titles first when referring to another monarch—even kings observed this rule. But clearly, Zavren was an exception.

"T-The news only reached us recently, King Zavren."

"What a stupid excuse," Zavren muttered. "Let me guess—Vrazen has turned to your side now?"

Jude gave a reluctant nod.

Zavren’s grin widened. "Always for one man’s gain. Greed is unbecoming, especially in old age. Take that as a word of advice—from one king to another."

Lucas, who had remained silent, finally lifted his head. King Jude looked stunned—if anyone had overheard this exchange, they’d never believe it came from a king.

"We’ll continue this discussion tonight," Zavren said, standing with a joyless stretch and a forced smile. "You’ve just arrived, and it would be like me to ask you to leave immediately. So let me act unlike myself. Spend the night. The meeting will be held after dinner."

King Jude nodded with a small, hopeful smile. Perhaps this was a sign—maybe King Zavren was reconsidering after all.

Later that day...

Ariana walked quietly through the hallway, heading toward the dining room for lunch. Leah walked beside her, her pace gentle and respectful.

Ariana suddenly stopped, as if she had remembered something. She moved her hands and signed:

"What am I supposed to do next?"

Leah gave a small bow and replied, "After now, Painting, Queen Ariana."

Ariana nodded softly and lifted her gown slightly as she walked. Unlike her usual sundress, today she wore a light blue gown—elegant but not heavy. It hugged her form with grace. Her wavy hair cascaded down her shoulders as he removed it from a ponytail,it was held back slightly by a delicate hairpin to prevent it from falling into her face.

As they finally reached the dining room, the door opened—revealing two figures already inside: Zavren and a guest, who was clearly another king. Ariana instantly recognized the royal insignia on his shirt.

She stepped forward silently and curtsied with grace.

"A great pleasure to meet you, Queen Ariana. I am King Jude of Suk. I must say, I’ve heard a great deal about you," he said as he rose politely from his seat.

Ariana responded with a graceful nod before sitting. Only then did she realize—they had waited for her to begin the meal. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t known she was expected. If she had, she wouldn’t have delayed. She couldn’t even offer an apology; they wouldn’t understand sign language, and Leah was outside waiting.

Zavren, seated at the head of the table, finally spoke, his voice calm but piercing.

"If I recall your earlier words correctly—you mentioned you had heard much about my wife?"

He moved his knife precisely across the meat, cutting it with his fork in a quiet, majestic rhythm.

Ariana’s eyes flicked up the moment Zavren’s gaze moved to her. Their eyes met briefly before he looked away, beginning to eat. Her posture straightened automatically.

"Yes, King Zavren," Jude responded, his tone light. "You know how rumors are—like fire. Once lit, they consume anything in their path. The news of your marriage spread quickly."

He dabbed his lips delicately with a red napkin, though in truth, he had already heard it from a maid even before receiving the formal letter.

Zavren’s voice turned colder.

"I see. Then, if you don’t mind... share some of the more interesting rumors you’ve heard. It wouldn’t hurt to entertain us."

He lifted his wine glass and took a slow sip, his eyes unreadable.

Ariana’s gaze shifted to King Jude. Even she had been curious about how quickly her name had spread—how someone like her, once invisible, had become the talk of kingdoms... all because of the Alpha King.

"King Zavren," Jude said with a forced chuckle, "you’ve certainly put me on the spot. As you know, rumors shift depending on who tells them. By the time a story passes through ten mouths, details are either cut or exaggerated—some to make it interesting, others to make it dull."

Ariana blinked. She didn’t understand why the man was going in such a roundabout way just to answer. What he said made sense, but was all that truly necessary?

Go straight to the point, King—what’s his name again? Ah, right... King Jude, she thought.

"You know," Zavren began, his tone as sharp as his gaze, "time is very precious—and I don’t intend to waste it listening to insignificant words meant to dress up pointless knowledge."

Ariana’s lips widened slightly. For the first time, she found herself genuinely agreeing with him. What he said made a lot of sense—a whole lot.

"My apologies," King Jude offered, wearing a soft, diplomatic smile.

"Apology declined," Zavren replied curtly.

Ariana choked lightly on her food, startled not only by his bluntness but by the sudden tension his words brought. Zavren’s gaze shifted to her instantly. Without a word, he reached forward and handed her a glass of water.

She accepted it with a soft nod and took a careful sip.

She hadn’t expected that from him at all...

This man... he truly didn’t hide his words.

"King Zavren, I must say—your wife is exquisitely beautiful," King Jude remarked.

Ariana slowly lifted her gaze, offering a polite, perfect smile in response. Zavren smirked faintly as he nodded.

"You’re not wrong," he said, his eyes drifting calmly to Ariana, who continued to eat in silence.

Ariana tried her best not to let her thoughts wander. She found herself curious about the rumors, but she chose to focus on her food instead—particularly the well-seasoned meat on her plate.

"I must say, King Zavren, I’m deeply honored. This meal is perfect."

’He must always say’ Ariana said to herself as a smile moved to her lips.

Zavren nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes momentarily settling on the delicately garnished meat. Without a word, he gently took a slice and placed it on Ariana’s plate.

As Ariana reached out to take the fruit juice, Zavren’s hand moved at the same time. Their fingers brushed lightly.

A subtle spark traveled through her skin.

She froze for a moment, watching as he silently moved the cup toward her, setting it within easy reach.

"Did you rest well?" he asked, voice low and casual.

Ariana gave a gentle nod. She hadn’t realized he had checked on her earlier—Zavren had visited the room and, upon seeing her asleep, quietly left for his office chamber.

Meanwhile...

Raven walked silently toward Zavren’s office, carrying a wooden box he had discovered hidden beneath Frederick’s bed. Something about it felt strange. Why would someone in the palace—especially Frederick—be keeping boxes filled with old letters, some written in styles resembling those from centuries past?

This was unusual. Dangerous, even.

These kinds of items should have been brought directly to the palace records for inspection—especially if they held secrets or threats. Yet Frederick had many of them.

Raven reached the office and placed the box gently on the floor beside Zavren’s desk. He opened it.

A thick wave of dust burst upward, slapping his face.

"Heavens..." he muttered, coughing lightly as he waved a hand in front of his nose to clear the air. "And here I thought I’d get married before dying of dust inhalation..." he joked under his breath.

Inside the box, stacks of aged letters sat in careful arrangement. He began pushing some aside, curiosity stirring.

And then... his fingers paused.

Something had caught his eye.

His gaze narrowed as he slowly pulled out a sheet.

It was a drawing—faded with time, yet still clear.

A woman.

A woman who looked exactly like Queen Ariana.