The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 53: Weakness

Chapter 53: Weakness

While cleaning the library, Rail shared everything he knew about the clans. Ren was shocked to learn that many of the elders had initially opposed Kaisun’s rule, but he had proven himself over time. He had dedicated his life to protecting them and bringing peace to the chaotic land. More importantly, he was the one who ended the barbaric lifestyle of these once-savage people.

Fascinating. The way Kaisun had transformed this land, shaping its laws and guiding its people toward stability, was nothing short of extraordinary. She had heard tales of his ruthlessness, but this was different. This was leadership born from struggle, a relentless fight to prove himself despite the opposition of his own elders.

However, Rail had little knowledge of Kaisun’s life before the last three hundred years. It was as if everything before that had been deliberately erased, or perhaps Kaisun himself had no recollection of his past. Whatever the reason, the mystery remained unsolved, leaving a void in the history of the man who now ruled over them. All he knew was that Kaisun had entered, or rather, had been sent to, Thegara. Before that, his past was a mystery, even to his closest men.

A sudden commotion outside the library door drew everyone’s attention. Ren quickly stepped out and found a young healer apprentice arguing with the historian.

"I said, ’The Luna herself hired me.’ Which part don’t you understand?" the historian, a young owl shifter, stated calmly.

"Mr. Biken, you don’t have a sealed parchment. I can’t allow you in."

"What is this uproar about?"

Ren appeared behind them, and Mr. Biken immediately turned to Ren, pleading, "Please, Luna Ren, explain to this wolf that I am not an intruder."

Ren studied Mr. Biken, the young brown owl who looked increasingly frustrated.

"You can leave," she told the apprentice. "He is the librarian now. You won’t need to work here and miss your healer sessions with healer Rigo anymore. Let the others know they are relieved of this duty."

The young wolf’s eyes widened with surprise. "Oh, that’s amazing! Thank you, Luna Reneira."

He bowed deeply and rushed off, excitement evident in his rapid steps.

Ren turned back to Mr. Biken, inviting him inside. He wore a loose brown formal robe adorned with intricate golden needlework along the margins. She was relieved that his father had not changed his mind. The Bird Clan was still bitter toward the wolves, and hiring one of their own might stir their elder’s anger, especially since he was Calisa’s father.

As Mr. Biken entered, his mouth fell open in awe at the sight of the grand library. Towering spiral shelves filled the room, stretching up to the vaulted ceiling. Without a bird shifter, reaching the highest sections would have required an enormous ladder.

"Your Grace, you are very wise," he praised. "You hired a bird librarian because of this?"

She nodded, offering a regal tilt of her head. "I needed someone who truly values books. I have no idea how many history books exist in this library. I want you to archive them all, categorizing them correctly by genre and relevance. Can you do that for me?"

His eyes gleamed with excitement. "Of course!"

His enthusiasm was short-lived when Rail approached.

"Regere Al-Gathiran, correct?" Mr. Biken asked, tilting his head.

"Regere?" Ren echoed in surprise.

Rail winked at her and whispered, "I’ll explain that later. Just call me Rail. That name carries weight, and not always in a good way. Best if it stays buried here."

The historian was stunned. Rail carried the Alpha King’s surname?

"That’s correct. Just call me Rail. And don’t use that name here," he warned before smirking. "Are you here to scold me over the mad peacock?"

Ren shot him a glare. He should behave. He was sixty, a young wolf in terms of lifespan, but his temper was just as erratic as the changing seasons.

"Oh, no," Mr. Biken said with a grin. "I know of you because of what happened at Clans Academy. I was a first-year student when you tossed him out the window, right before my feet."

Ren gaped, her mind racing to process what she had just heard. How could they speak so casually about such an outrageous event?

Unbelievable.

There wasn’t even a hint of sympathy in Mr. Biken’s expression.

"Ah, you were lucky then," Rail said, chuckling.

"Tsk. He refused to hire me at the historian’s tower because I didn’t come from a historian family. I don’t particularly like him," Biken admitted.

Rail smirked. "So we’re in the same league. Welcome, young..."

"Mr. Biken," Ren cut in, introducing him formally.

"Thank you," Mr. Biken replied. "But let me make one thing clear: I dislike that man, but that doesn’t mean what you did wasn’t wicked."

Rail snorted. "What would you have done in my place?"

Mr. Biken’s eyes twinkled mischievously. "I would have poisoned him and sent him to the restroom for two days."

Ren choked on her saliva.

"Oh, gods! You’ve all lost your minds. I don’t want to hear another word about this!"

Rail chuckled. "Not a bad idea, though."

Mr. Biken merely gave him a formal nod, which only made Ren even more exasperated. This was ridiculous. Absolutely childish.

Arkilla, who had been leaning against the wall, watching the entire exchange, chuckled knowingly.

Meanwhile, Gloria arrived, handing Ren the assignments she had completed. With this, she had learned sixteen letters of the alphabet.

"I’m done. Shall we leave this place to the librarian and go?"

Ren nodded and turned to Mr. Biken. "Tonight, there is a feast in the castle. Please stay with us and enjoy it." She pulled out a key and handed it to him. "This is yours now. Your room is over there." She pointed toward a door at the far end of the library, near a large round table. "The castle dining schedule and curfew hours are in your room. Let me know if you need anything at all."

He accepted the key and bowed. "Thank you, Luna Reneira. I won’t disappoint you."

"I’m sure you won’t. Now, please excuse us."

With that, they bid him farewell and left the library for training. As Ren stepped away, her mind raced to her husband. Was he in the training field?

Shaking off the thought, she focused on what lay ahead. Training with Arkilla was going to be grueling, but she needed it.

Kaisun’s absence weighed on her mind, though she stubbornly pushed the thought aside. He had blocked their mind link, shutting her out completely. Still, she missed his deep voice in her head. Ren’s heart felt uneasy and she could no longer feel his presence. She shouldn’t be upset about it, after all, she had spent so much time begging him to stay out of her thoughts.

Upon arriving at the training hall, she changed into the clothes Kai had given her. Facing Arkilla, she braced herself for this hard session. Unlike her husband, who was strict and relentless, Arkilla was firm yet considerate, ensuring Ren didn’t collapse from exhaustion and gave her time to catch a breath.

A small group of female warriors gathered to watch, whispering in admiration as Arkilla trained the human Luna.

"We’ll work on your speed and footwork today," Arkilla instructed. She bent her knees, demonstrating the proper stance. "Keep your stance like this. Always shield your nose and jaw with your fists. If someone lands a solid hit to your face, you’ll go down fast."

For the next two hours, Arkilla drilled Ren on her footing and how to use her legs to minimize pain while kicking. By the end, Ren was weak with hunger, her knees trembling.

Arkilla noticed immediately. "Your knees are weak. You ride horses. Your knees shouldn’t be weak."

Ren forced a bitter smile. Maybe one day, when she was ready to talk about her past, she would tell Arkilla the truth.

She had kept the truth buried for so long, unwilling to show weakness, but the past never truly disappeared. One day, maybe when she was ready, she would tell Arkilla everything. Tell her how Ara, her half-sister, had broken her legs so many times, how each fracture had been deliberate, meant to remind her that she would never belong. How she had made sure Ren lived in misery whenever their father was away from Zillgaira and then put the blame on Ren for being clumsy and weak. But even as she entertained the thought, a familiar fear crept in. The weight of her past, the pain of those fractured bones, was hers alone to bear. She doubted if she would ever have the courage to share that torment with anyone.

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