Chapter 140

Chapter 140: Chapter 140

The private chambers assigned to Selene were modest by palace standards—a sitting room, a bedroom, and a small bathing area but they were far more luxurious than anything the academy had offered. Selene had decorated them with her own touches: silk curtains, scented candles, fresh flowers arranged in crystal vases. It was important to maintain appearances, especially now, with the festival only days away.

She slipped through the door and locked it behind her, letting out a long breath. Comforting Soren had been exhausting he was so fragile now, so uncertain, and every interaction required careful calculation. One wrong word, one false step, and the entire edifice she had constructed could come crashing down.

She turned.

A figure sat in the chair by the window, silhouetted against the afternoon light. Selene’s eyes narrowed. Her lips curled into a frown.

"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice sharp with irritation.

The figure rose slowly, deliberately, and walked to the window. For a long moment, he simply stood there, looking out at the city below. Then he turned to face her.

"The plan is going well," he said, his voice low and smooth. "She has full trust in me. She confides in me. And I intend to use that to my advantage."

Selene walked to the bed and sat down with practiced grace, smoothing her skirts. "I don’t care what you’re doing. As long as it doesn’t affect my plans, and as long as Soren doesn’t remember her, I don’t care what happens to Nyra. Even if you end up killing her, it’s none of my business. I’m this close to securing him." She held up her thumb and forefinger, a fraction apart. "And I don’t want any slip-ups."

The figure smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

Then he moved.

In a blink, he was in front of her, his hand closing around her wrist with crushing force. He yanked her forward, his face inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin.

"You don’t talk to me like I’m one of your maids," he hissed. "You don’t talk to me like I’m one of those people you control. Do you understand?" His grip tightened. "We have a mutual agreement. I will help you become the queen you want to be, and you will help me become the ruler of the Astrlyn pack. We have a common enemy. We are partners in crime. But that doesn’t mean you get to speak to me rudely. Understood?"

Selene stared at him, her amber eyes blazing with fury. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, she smiled.

"We have an agreement," she said coolly. "But you should also never hold me like this again. Understood?"

He studied her face for a moment, then released her wrist and stepped back. "Agreed."

Selene smoothed her sleeve, shaking her head. "Your father thinks you’re the most innocent of his children. The biggest lie ever told. You’re the cruelest. Your brother is probably learning from you."

The figure smiled again—cold and knowing. "Catching them off guard has always been the plan."

"And I’ll continue doing my part. I’ll keep gathering information from your father."

He nodded. "And I’ll keep doing mine."

They were still standing there, the tension between them thick as smoke, when footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. They both froze. Selene’s eyes darted toward the door. A knock followed.

She hesitated, her heart pounding. Then she crossed to the door and opened it.

By the time she turned back, the figure was gone.

Soren stood in the doorway, his golden eyes studying her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. "You took a while to answer."

"I was adjusting my dress." She gestured at her gown, which was indeed slightly disheveled from the confrontation.

Soren’s gaze dropped to her dress, then back to her face. He stepped inside and, to her surprise, reached out and adjusted the collar of her gown with gentle fingers. "There. Better."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you. What brings you here?"

"We’re supposed to have lunch together. Or have you forgotten?"

Selene’s eyes widened slightly—she had completely forgotten. "Of course not," she lied smoothly. "I was just about to come find you."

"Then let’s go. The others are already gathering."

She nodded and took his arm, letting him lead her out of the room. As they walked, her mind raced. The figure’s visit had rattled her more than she wanted to admit. But she pushed the unease aside. She had a role to play, and she would play it perfectly.

The palace gardens were quiet as Nyra and Corvin walked together, their footsteps soft on the stone path. The encounter with Soren in the garden still lingered between them Nyra could feel the phantom pressure of his hand around her throat, the cold fury in his golden eyes.

"Are you alright?" Corvin asked quietly. "After what happened?"

Nyra was silent for a moment. "I’m adjusting. It’s hard, seeing him like this. He’s so different. So cold. The Soren I knew would never have looked at me that way."

"The poison changed him. Selene changed him. But the real Soren is still in there. We just have to reach him."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I have to." Corvin took her hand, squeezing gently. "I’ve known Soren since we were children. He’s stubborn and infuriating and sometimes cruel, but he’s not evil. And he’s not stupid. Eventually, he’ll start asking the right questions. Eventually, he’ll see through Selene’s lies."

"And if he doesn’t?"

"Then we’ll make him." Corvin’s voice was firm. "We’ll find the evidence. We’ll prove your innocence. And when the truth comes out, he’ll have no choice but to believe it."

Nyra nodded slowly. "I keep thinking about what he said. That I’m a murderer. That I killed Thorne. The way he looked at me—like I was something disgusting." Her voice cracked. "I don’t know if I can survive him looking at me like that again."

Corvin stopped walking and turned to face her. "Then don’t look at him. Look at me. Look at the people who believe in you. Finn. Marek. Jasper. Ragnar. Roderic. Everyone in that safe house who risked their lives to bring you here." He cupped her face in his hands. "Soren’s memories may be gone, but you are not. You are Nyra Astrlyn. The Daughter of the Moon. The rightful heir to the Astrlyn pack. And you are not defined by what one person even someone you love—believes about you."

Nyra’s eyes glistened. "When did you become so good at speeches?"

"I’ve been practicing. There’s this girl I know—she inspires me."

She laughed despite herself—a small, fragile sound. "Thank you, Corvin. For everything. For staying with me. For believing in me."

"Always." He pulled her into a gentle hug. "Now come on. Ragnar is probably looking for us. There’s some kind of formal lunch we’re supposed to attend."

"Can’t we skip it?"

"Unfortunately, no. The King’s orders. Every noble and their children are expected to be there."

"Then I’ll be there. With you by my side."

"Always," he said again.

Lord Varek’s suite in the palace was in shambles.

The chairs had been overturned. The cushions had been thrown to the floor. A crystal decanter lay shattered against the far wall, its contents pooling on the expensive carpet. And at the center of the chaos, Lord Varek stood with his fists clenched, his face red with fury.

"Incompetents!" he roared at the cowering guard before him. "I am surrounded by imbeciles and cowards!"

"My lord, we did everything we could—"

"Everything? You call this everything?" Varek grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "The girl is in the palace! She’s been granted an investigation! The King is listening to her!" He shoved the guard away, sending him stumbling into the wall. "If the truth comes out—if anyone traces that poison back to me—"

"My lord, perhaps we should focus on what we can control. We have allies in the court. We have the witch. We can still—"

"Still what? The damage is done!" Varek’s voice cracked with fury. He swept a stack of documents off the table, sending them scattering across the floor. "That meddling alchemist! That treacherous niece of mine! They’ve ruined everything!"

The guard cowered, unsure how to respond.

Varek paced the length of the room, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Finally, he stopped. His expression shifted from rage to cold calculation.

"We need to block any evidence proving her innocence. Do you understand? We need to move quickly, before the investigation gains momentum. Destroy the documents. Discredit the witnesses. And if necessary—" He paused. "Eliminate anyone who gets too close to the truth."

"Yes, my lord."

"Go. And don’t return until the job is done."

The guard scrambled to his feet and fled. Varek stood alone in the wreckage of his suite, his chest heaving.

I’ve come too far to lose now, he thought. I will not be undone by a silver-haired witch and her band of traitors.

The luncheon hall was filled with the sons and daughters of the realm’s most powerful families.

Princes and princesses from every pack. Heirs to noble houses. Children of high-ranking officers and dignitaries. They gathered around a long table draped in white linen, their voices a low hum of conversation. Servants moved among them, filling goblets and setting down platters of roasted meat and fresh bread.

At the head of the table sat Soren, with Selene at his side. They looked every inch the royal couple—Soren in his crimson and gold, Selene in her pale silk gown. The other guests had been seated according to rank, and the atmosphere was one of careful formality.

When Corvin and Nyra entered with Ragnar and Roderic, the room fell silent.

Every head turned. Every conversation stopped. Nyra could feel the weight of their stares—curious, hostile, uncertain. She kept her chin high and her expression neutral, even as her heart pounded in her chest.

Corvin guided her to a seat near the middle of the table, directly across from Soren and Selene. Ragnar and Roderic took seats nearby, their expressions watchful.

Soren’s golden eyes fixed on Nyra the moment she sat down. His jaw tightened.

"What is she doing here?" he demanded, his voice carrying across the silent hall. "She’s not allowed to be here. She’s still under trial."

Corvin spoke up immediately. "She’s with me. Leave her alone, Soren."

Soren’s lips curved into a cold smile. "You know, I don’t understand what you see in this criminal girl. Breaking protocols for her. Defending her. Risking everything." He leaned back in his chair. "She’s just a murderer."

Corvin started to speak, but Nyra placed a hand on his arm.

"Is that what you think of me?" she asked quietly. "Is that all you see?"

Soren laughed—a short, humorless sound. "What else should I see? Tell me, are you even dating Corvin, or are you just using him for your own gain? Will you dump him once he’s no longer useful to you?"

"It’s none of your business," Corvin said, his voice tight with anger.

Nyra looked at Soren. At the cold disdain in his golden eyes. At the way Selene watched with quiet satisfaction.

"Yes," she said, her voice steady. "I’m dating Corvin. He’s my boyfriend now." She lifted her chin, meeting Soren’s gaze directly. "My previous relationship ended badly. The man I loved turned out to be a jerk and an idiot. But I’ve found someone else—someone who loves me regardless of everything. So yes, to answer your question, Corvin is my boyfriend."

The hall erupted in whispers. Nobles exchanged shocked glances. Selene’s eyes narrowed. Ragnar nearly choked on his wine.

Corvin looked at Nyra, his expression stunned. She reached under the table and squeezed his hand.

Soren’s grip on his fork tightened. The metal creaked under the pressure. His knuckles went white. The smile had vanished from his face, replaced by something dark and furious.

He didn’t understand why the words affected him so deeply. He didn’t understand the sudden surge of rage that burned through his veins. But in that moment, looking at Nyra Astrlyn holding Corvin’s hand and calling him her boyfriend, Soren felt an overwhelming urge to grab her by the throat and demand she take it back.

The fork snapped in his grip.

The hall fell absolutely silent.