The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 76: Theories

Chapter 76: Theories

>>Aelin

The tension in the meeting room was suffocating, the weight of their conversation pressing down on all of them. Draegon, Drakkar, and Draken sat in silence for a moment, their minds piecing together the fragments of a much darker reality.

Drakkar was the first to speak. "Okay, so far we know someone helped Ruoxy escape." His voice was low, as if saying it too loudly would make it even more real.

"It could hint that there are more people like Ruoxy around," Draken added, "Who simply haven’t shown themselves."

Ariston exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. "Then that means... there could be more."

Draegon shook his head. "More Abyss Worshippers."

Drakkar’s jaw tightened. "More of those fanatics hiding in the kingdom? Worshipping the Abyss?" His golden eyes flickered dangerously. "That’s absurd.."

Ariston crossed his arms. "Not just ’could be.’ There are more." Everyone turned to look at him,

"What makes you so sure?" Draegon asked. I could tell he wasn’t doubting Ariston but simply wanted to know his opinion.

Ariston sighed, rubbing his temple as if the conversation was giving him a headache. "Because you said it yourself." He lifted his gaze to Draegon. "You fought another Abyss creature in the forest. It was with Ruoxy, right?"

Draegon’s eyes narrowed, recalling the black goat-headed creature that had sunk its claws into his arm.

"Yes."

Ariston gestured toward him. "Then doesn’t that mean someone else summoned it?"

Drakkar’s claws tapped against the obsidian table. "You’re saying Ruoxy wasn’t the one behind that thing?"

"To open the gate they need live sacrifice, from what we saw, they need to torture the people and break their minds too." His words made my skin stand up, "I don’t think Ruoxy had that kind of time." Ariston’s expression darkened. "And you said she was strong, that her power was greater than before and there were modifications." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "That means there’s another fanatic out there. Another worshipper. And if we’re right. It won’t just be one more." He looked at everyone, "I doubt a sole, single person opened a gate so big we had to fight a war for two years."

There was silence in the place as everyone thought about it. Drakkar exhaled through his nose, his expression grim. "We should assume the worst."

Draken stared at Ariston for a few seconds, "You sure seem very confident with your words."

Ariston exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he straightened up. "Don’t look at me like that," he muttered. "It’s all just theories in the end. We still need to confirm any of it before making assumptions."

Draegon didn’t reply immediately, his purple gaze still locked onto Ariston, scrutinizing every flicker of expression. The room was silent except for the faint crackle of the torches lining the walls. Finally, Draegon leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

"All that we discussed is plausible," he admitted. "But at the same time, it’s very dangerous."

Drakkar frowned. "We can’t ignore it. Whether it’s a theory or not, we have a serious problem." He exhaled sharply and looked at Draegon. "We need to talk about the maids who handled Ruoxy’s body."

Draegon’s jaw tensed. "The ones who were supposed to burn her remains."

Draken gave a slow nod. "I had a conversation with Alishay’s maids." His tone darkened, his wings twitching in irritation. "They claim to have burned Ruoxy’s body completely."

Ariston let out a humorless chuckle. "Then they’re lying."

Drakkar turned to him. "Exactly." His eyes glowed faintly in the dim room. "If they really did burn her, the core would have been destroyed along with the rest of her body."

Draegon’s fingers curled into fists against the table. "Which means there’s a traitor within the palace walls."

!!!

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Drakkar’s expression was grim. "Someone deliberately let Ruoxy survive."

Draken crossed his arms, "Are we assuming there is another Abyss worshipper in the palace?" I guess we’re calling people like Ruoxy Abyss worshippers. "Things are getting a little complicated there," Draken said

"More than complicated. There have always been brain rot fanatics but not the kind who want to bring destruction upon the whole world." Drakkar clicked his tongue, "And for what?" He rolled his eyes, "For something we’re not even sure of."

"If they’re simply fanatics, they probably don’t need a reason," Draegon said, "But it doesn’t sit right with me that they’re doing this for no reason. And like Ariston said, they are definitely somehow harnessing the power of the Abyss."

"How many could there be?" Draken asked

"We’ll have to start working on it," Draegon said, "By first catching the ones that helped Ruoxy escape."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Drakkar asked

"We already have the first clue," Dragon said

"Alishay’s maids," Draken added, then frowned, "But why her maids?" Everyone took a pause to think about it

"Unless, they really did want to burn Ruoxy." Drakkar added, "And someone else intervened."

"Could be," Ariston said, "Sounds plausible," He folded his arms as he thought, "Otherwise the target would be easy to find."

"How would they have been easy to find?" Draken asked

Ariston looked back at the first prince, "We could simply check their blood. If they are Abyss worshippers, wouldn’t they also have black blood like Ruoxy did?"

Everyone thought about his words and nodded.

"Right..." Drakkar said, "That is something that can be thought about."

***

The room was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the enchanted lanterns casting a dim golden glow. I lay on the vast bed, curled beneath the silk covers, staring at the far wall. Sleep refused to come, my thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty.

Would Draegon come to bed tonight?

Ever since he returned from the war, he had not once slept beside me.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. It wasn’t as if he had promised to sleep next to me. But demons didn’t live like human nobles, who often had separate chambers for husband and wife. In demon culture, spouses shared a room.

I exhaled quietly, my fingers curling into the soft fabric of the blanket. It wasn’t as if I wanted to demand anything from him, but... his absence made me question things.

I bit my lip.

Maybe I was overthinking it.

Maybe—

The door creaked open.

My body went rigid.

The room was already dim, but somehow, the air shifted, thickening with the familiar weight of his presence. Even without looking, I could feel him. His warmth, his magic, the steady power that always surrounded him.

Heavy boots pressed against the marble floor, slow and deliberate. The bed dipped under his weight as he settled beside me, and warmth spread through the space between us.

I kept my face turned away, but my heart was pounding.

He came. He really came!!!

The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncertain, until his voice, deep and smooth, broke through it.

"You’re awake."

I hesitated before answering, my voice barely above a whisper. "...Yes."

For a moment, he didn’t speak. I kept staring at the far wall, afraid to turn and meet his gaze. Then, he said something that made my breath catch.

"Are you still afraid of me?" He asked

!!

I slowly turned to look at him, only to notice that his purple eyes were already on me. It made my heart skip a beat but I didn’t avert my gaze, "No," I replied

And then I saw how his lips softly curved up to give me a smile.

"I’m glad," He whispered and he turned his body towards me. Without thinking I did the same thing.

We quietly looked at one another for a few moments, before he spoke.

"Soon," he murmured, "I’ll take you to town."

I swallowed, the tension in my shoulders loosening ever so slightly.

"...Alright."

The dim light softened the sharp lines of his face. He was resting there, one arm tucked behind his head, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

While looking at one another he slowly closed his eyes and I did the same thing. I could hear my heart beating and I don’t know when I fell asleep

***

I stood in front of the tall, gilded mirror, my breath caught somewhere between disbelief and mortification. The dress hugged me like a second skin, clinging to every curve in a way that made my face burn. My hands hovered over my exposed knees, as if that alone could hide them from sight.

This was too much.

In human kingdoms, no woman—especially not a noble one—wore something like this. Clothing was always modest, covering arms and legs, draping over the body with grace and restraint. Even formal gowns were carefully designed to preserve dignity.

But this...

This was something entirely different.

I turned my wide, pleading eyes to Uriel, my maid, who stood behind me with a look of pure exasperation. "I—I can’t wear this," I stammered, my cheeks heating further as I shook my head. "This is too revealing!"

Uriel crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Only your legs and knees are showing," she said, arching a brow. "It’s not as if you’re half-naked."

"That’s not the point!" I protested, gripping the fabric at my waist. "It’s—it’s tight! And—" I swallowed, horrified as I looked at my reflection again. "It’s low—"

Uriel sighed as if she had heard enough. "Princess, this is Dravos," she said, dragging a comb through my hair with an air of finality. "Demons wear all kinds of things—from layers of silk to sheer fabric that leaves little to the imagination. You’re the wife of our prince. You should own this look."

I most certainly did not want to own it.

I was used to flowing gowns, long sleeves, and high collars. But this dress—this deep, wine-red thing—was scandalous. The bodice was fitted so tightly it felt as if it had been molded to me, emphasizing the shape of my waist and chest. The neckline dipped lower than anything I’d ever worn before, revealing far too much of my cleavage. And the skirt, though elegant, stopped at my knees, leaving my legs bare beneath the soft glow of the room’s lanterns.

I turned away from the mirror, shaking my head. "I need to change—"

"You need to go," Uriel interrupted, spinning me around and steering me toward the door.

I barely had time to protest before she opened it and pushed me forward.

And just like that, I found myself standing outside.

Where Draegon was waiting.

The moment his purple eyes landed on me, he froze.

!!!

My heart skipped a beat.

I wished, desperately, that I could disappear.

The weight of his stare sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t the usual look he gave me—his typical unreadable, composed expression. No, this was different.

His gaze flickered over me, slowly, taking in every detail—the way the dress hugged my body, the way the fabric clung to my curves, the way my bare legs were fully visible for the first time. His brows lifted slightly, and though he said nothing, I could feel the intensity of his focus as if it were a tangible force pressing against me.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His hands curled into loose fists at his sides.

The longer he stared, the hotter my face became.

"I—" I tried to say something, anything, but my voice failed me.

I lowered my head, my fingers clutching the hem of the dress as if that would somehow make it longer.

Draegon still hadn’t spoken.

Uriel, standing smugly behind me, cleared her throat. "Well? Your Highness" she said to him. "Doesn’t she look stunning?"

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