Chapter 9 - The Trial of the Past
Even in times of peace, old ghosts occasionally crawl out from the dark corners of history to test the foundations of a new world.
Three weeks after the festival, a carriage bearing the crest of the Silver Moon house rattled up the winding mountain road toward Blackwood Citadel. It stopped before the massive iron gates, and out stepped two figures whose faces Arth had hoped never to see again.
Lord Silver Moon—her father—and her eldest brother, both dressed in fine velvet that looked entirely too ostentatious for travelers, stood before the royal guards with expressions of arrogant entitlement.
"Announce us to the Queen," her father demanded, puffing out his chest as he adjusted his heavy gold collar. "Tell her that her family has come to offer formal congratulations and to claim our rightful place at court."
When the message was brought to the throne room, Zepharos immediately stood up, his silver eyes flashing with sudden, dangerous coldness.
"Shall I have the guards throw them off the cliff?" the king asked, his voice flat and lethal. "Or shall I let my wolf out to welcome them properly?"
Arth gently placed her hand on his forearm, stopping him. A serene, confident smile touched her lips—a smile born of a woman who no longer needed anyone else’s validation to know her own worth.
"No," Arth said softly. "Let them in. Let them see what a disposable omega looks like now."
Moments later, the heavy oak doors opened, and her father and brother were escorted into the grand throne room. They strode down the marble aisle with smug grins, expecting to find the frightened, shivering girl they had sold for a single copper coin.
Instead, they found themselves standing before the Alpha King and a radiant, powerful Queen whose presence commanded the entire hall.
Her father stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping as he took in Arth’s royal gown, the platinum crown resting upon her dark hair, and the terrifying, protective glare of the king standing beside her.
"A-Arth..." her father stammered, his face instantly turning pale, his knees wobbling beneath him as he realized the sheer magnitude of his catastrophic mistake. "My dear daughter... we only came to... to check on your welfare..."
"My welfare?" Arth asked, her voice echoing clearly through the vaulted hall, carrying a weight and authority that made both men flinch. "When you sold me for less than the price of bread, you called me a blank page. A defective burden. A mouth that ate without returning the hunt."
Her father dropped heavily to his knees, his hands trembling as he clawed at the polished marble floor. "Forgive us! We were fools! We didn't know—"
"No," Arth interrupted gently, stepping down from the dais and stopping just a few feet away from them. "You didn't know. Because you never bothered to look past the surface. You measured a soul by a wolf, and in doing so, you missed everything of true value."
She turned her gaze toward her brother, who was cowering behind their father, sweating profusely under the terrifying, predatory stare of King Zepharos, who hovered just behind her like a shadow of pure vengeance.
"Guards," Arth commanded, her voice ringing with absolute royal decree. "Escort our esteemed guests back down the mountain. Ensure they are provided with a single loaf of bread and a copper coin. Let them experience what it truly feels like to be judged by their worth."
As her father and brother were dragged away, shouting and weeping for mercy, Arth turned back to look at Zepharos.
The king smiled, reaching out to take her hand, lifting her knuckles to his lips.
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"You are merciless, my love," he teased softly.
"I am simply thorough," Arth replied with a wink.
