The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 157: Hide it.

Chapter 157: Hide it.

She passed the vial to the aged sorcerer standing at the head of the table. He sniffed it, narrowed his eyes, and without a word, walked over to where Lutherieth stood, silent all this time, his attention fixed on the map laid out before him, its surface marked with black and white crystals.

"Your Highness," the old sorcerer said quietly, "that scent... could it be shifter blood?"

Luther froze mid-step, turning slowly to meet the man’s gaze.

"What?" he asked, voice low and unreadable beneath a silent rage.

The old man nodded solemnly. "It’s shifter blood. Mixed with pure silver dust. The rest... unfamiliar. There’s a new floral note to it, subtle but distinct. I don’t know what it is."

"Master Daron, can you find a cure for it?" Lutherieth asked.

Master Daron Craftneck, the eldest and most formidable of the sorcerers, stood unmoving. His black staff, embedded with a crackling blue crystal, was a symbol of his power as a lightning summoner. It was he who protected Witch Island from foolish trespassers and greedy adventurers.

"Our alchemists will begin working on it immediately," he replied, sealing the vial and handing it to the youngest sorcerer at the table, a youth with curly brown hair and bright hazel eyes that gleamed with curiosity as he examined the dark liquid.

"A poison designed to kill vampires," the young man muttered, his voice tinged with fascination. "Whoever made this has studied venom deeply. I once heard of a young lady in Zillgaira. She could craft antidotes even for deadlier poisons." A wicked smirk crept across his face.

"Her name?" Luther asked, his voice sharp with intent.

The idea of such a talent intrigued him. If not as a prisoner, he thought, then perhaps... as the twelfth vampire Lord.

"Reneira D’Orient," the young sorcerer replied. "Daughter of Alekin D’Orient. She’s well-known among alchemists. Only twenty, yet far more skilled than many who’ve practiced for decades. And the most fascinating part? She’s a healer, not even an alchemist by trade..."

The vampire Lords exchanged glances, the unspoken truth passing between them. Their King was under attack, by the very girl he intended to claim.

"She’s a rare gem," Wizard Daron muttered, his tone edged with disbelief. "How have you not brought her here? She could have been one of us, Sigaros!"

Sigaros slipped the vial into his robe with a sheepish shrug. "I was working on it..."

"Enough!"

Lutherieth’s voice thundered through the hall, crackling like a storm ripping through the skies. Rage flickered in his now crimson eyes, just as always, when rage consumed him, his eyes shifted color. The mention of Reneira always scorched his temper, Kaisun had married her. Married her. That girl was his. Nimoieth had foreseen it. She had chosen him as the Lord of Shadow, not that cursed Kaisun. But, no worries, he’d take her back alongside his title.

He turned sharply to his vampire Lords. "Go to your chambers. Drink your fill. Be ready for the coming strikes. Kaisun won’t waste time waiting for his last human battalions to prepare. And, Azrael, I have a painful gift for him."

~*~

Back in Jaigara’s court, in the King’s private room.

"Bring the girl here," Azrael ordered sharply, his impatience palpable. "I’ll ask her if she wants to help her Queen or not."

He couldn’t wait any longer. Every second they lost, Luther was gaining ground.

Agara sighed, slumping back into his seat, clearly frustrated.

Kai reached out through the link to Rail. ’Bring Gloria to the door,’ he instructed quietly.

Moments later, Gloria stood before her King, her eyes briefly flicking to King Benkin. He looked every bit the powerful, youthful ruler. Just like rumors.

"Your Grace, do you need anything?" she asked, her voice calm, yet with a hint of uncertainty.

Kai nodded. "Yes, sit down, please."

Azrael’s impatience was evident. "Can we stop wasting time?" His voice was low, tinged with exhaustion. He turned to Gloria, his gaze piercing. "Listen, girl, we need you to steal the Spike from the Frozen Castle in Deagara. You’ll do it."

Gloria blinked, utterly dumbfounded. Steal? She wasn’t a thief. What was he talking about?

"Excuse me... why should I steal the Spike? Is it dangerous?"

Rail moved to intervene, but Kai’s hand shot out, grabbing his arm firmly. Through their link, Kai’s voice was calm but commanding. ’You won’t get involved in this. She’s Lord Alekin’s missing daughter.’

Rail’s world seemed to tilt. His grip on reality loosened, and a cold dread washed over him. This couldn’t be real. No. He didn’t want to believe it.

The King of Alvonia was already so startled. There was no doubt that this girl was born a D’Orient. And her name, Gloria, was Marianne’s favorite name. She used to call her daughter by this name before delivering her child. Her brown eyes, red hair, and small face were just like her mother. This girl was certainly Marrianne’s daughter. Her features and even her innocence were just the same and this similarity couldn’t be a coincidence.

The King of Alvonia looked at her with a soft expression. He always respected Marianne for being a loyal friend to his Fae wife. "Listen, sweetheart! I’m going to tell you the truth about your identity that we have found lately."

Azrael let out a relieved sigh, finally! This was annoying for him to tell her who she was without hurting her. And this King would take his part rather than Az.

The King paused a bit and Gloria’s features grew a bit nervous. She kept remembering her parents’ warning about avoiding the royals of Alvonia. But she couldn’t defy her own King’s order.

"Your Highness, may I ask what is that truth to me?" Her voice was trembling, showing how frightened she was.

Rail suddenly jerked forward, grabbed Gloria’s hand, and squeezed it.

"Calm down!"

King Benkin frowned but didn’t protest since the girl needed that emotional support before fainting.

"You are the missing daughter of my brother, Alekin, and his first beloved wife Marianne. You were born the same night my daughter Reneira was born."

Gloria’s eyes were wide, not even the slightest glint of eagerness could be seen.

"That is impossible! I look after my father. I have red hair and brown eyes. There must be a mistake."

Even if that was true, she found it so oppressive. He was talking about a person who she didn’t want to be. A D’Orient? An important member of the greatest royal house which was filled with brutality and corruption?

No, that was not possible!

"But it is not a mistake! You are the only innocent person we know who can carry that immortal weapon that threatens many lives. We need to steal it from Lutherieth. If you let us ask my brother for permission..."

"No!" Gloria cut the King’s words instantly. It was rude; and in Alvonia, whoever disrespected the King must be burned by Sunkiath’s flames.

"What?"

Azrael chuckled eagerly. Good! This girl was smart!

"I have parents and I love them. I’m the Queen’s maiden and I do everything to keep her safe. But, asking for a stranger’s permission for a crucial mission? Why should I do that?"

"Your blood requires that. Your name will be recorded in history. You cannot hide it." The King tested her honesty.

"Please, if you want me to take this weapon to you, promise that you won’t reveal this strange truth. I don’t want to have a luxurious life that is filled with fear. I don’t want my name to be recorded. That is my condition to help you." She begged. Her parents’ faces constantly appeared in her mind.

"Accepted," Kai chimed in. He didn’t want King Benkin to bother Gloria further.

Gloria gazed at her Alpha King with teary eyes, "Does my Luna Queen know?"

He shook his head, "Azrael just told us. She doesn’t know, and it is your choice to tell or not. But I prefer you keep it a secret. If she discovers this immortal weapon truly exists, you cannot guess what she would do."

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