Chapter 10 - The Uninvited Guest
They hurried down through the labyrinthine stone corridors, the distant echoes of shouting servants guiding their path toward the great front gates of Iron Hall.
When Valen and Sera burst through the heavy double doors into the outer courtyard, they stopped dead in their tracks.
The snow had melted enough to reveal patches of dark, thawing mud, but that wasn't what had sent the entire royal pack into an absolute frenzy.
Standing in the center of the courtyard, completely unbothered by the twenty massive war-wolves snarling and pacing in a wide circle around him, was a tall, impossibly elegant figure in shimmering silver-and-blue robes. A long, traveling staff made of white weirwood rested casually in his right hand, topped with a glowing crystal that hummed with a soft, melodic resonance.
He had silver hair that fell in immaculate waves down his back, striking violet eyes, and an infuriating, relaxed smile playing on his lips.
"Really, you northern brutes have appalling hospitality," the stranger called out, casually brushing a speck of snow from his immaculate silk sleeve. "Is this how you greet family?"
Valen’s entire body went rigid, a terrifying, predatory growl rumbling deep in his chest. His silver eyes blazed with sudden, blinding fury.
"Kaelen," Valen hissed the name like a curse.
Sera blinked, stepping slightly closer to Valen. "Who is that?"
"My cousin," Valen muttered, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently. "And the crown prince of the Southern Valleys. The man who was supposed to inherit the southern throne—before he abandoned his duties to dabble in high-court magic and political sabotage."
Kaelen turned his violet gaze toward them, his eyes lingering for a long, calculating moment on Sera before shifting to Valen. A bright, theatrical smile lit up his face.
"Ah, cousin! I heard rumors that the formidable Alpha King of Greyfall had finally been brought to his knees," Kaelen said, stepping forward smoothly, completely ignoring the twenty massive war-wolves snapping warningly inches from his boots. "I had to see for myself if the legends were true. Did you really surrender an entire royal army to a human schoolgirl?"
Valen stepped in front of Sera, his broad shoulders blocking Kaelen’s view, his aura flaring with suffocating dominance. "You have no jurisdiction here, Kaelen. Greyfall borders are closed to southern nobility without formal petition."
"Oh, petulant as always," Kaelen laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "I didn't come to wage war, Valen. I came to collect what belongs to the south."
Sera stepped out from behind Valen, her chin tilted up, her dark eyes flashing with sharp, defensive intelligence. "Nothing in Greyfall belongs to the south, Your Highness. Especially not its history, and certainly not its translators."
Kaelen’s violet eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise. He looked her up and down, taking in the heavy wool shawl, the intelligent spark in her gaze, and the way the surrounding wolves instantly quieted at her presence.
"Fascinating," Kaelen whispered, stepping a fraction closer. "So you are the one who woke the Northern Queen's bloodline. I must admit, I expected someone... taller."
"And I expected a prince to have better manners than to trespass during a thaw," Sera retorted instantly, her dry tone cutting straight through his theatrical charm.
May you like
A sharp bark of laughter escaped Valen, though his eyes remained dead-locked and lethal on his cousin.
"You see?" Kaelen grinned, spreading his arms wide. "We're going to get along famously. Because you see, sweet translator, the southern council isn't interested in your grammar lessons. They want the manuscripts you brought. All of them. Or else this fragile little peace you’ve built will burn before the spring grass even grows."
