Chapter 7 - Confronting the Ghost of the Past
The damp, stone-walled dungeons beneath the cathedral were cold, smelling of ancient moss and wet iron. Torches flickered along the narrow corridor, casting long, dancing shadows against the damp brickwork.
Inside the deepest cell, sitting on a simple wooden bench with his head bowed and his royal cloak discarded in the corner, sat Marcus Vale. He looked smaller now—stripped of his titles, his wealth, and his terrifying aura of absolute authority.
The heavy iron door creaked open. Footsteps echoed against the stone floor. Marcus didn't look up immediately, assuming it was just a guard delivering his meager rations.
"I thought I gave strict orders about my meals," Marcus rasped without lifting his head.
"You don't give orders anymore, Marcus," Olivia said.
Marcus froze. Slowly, he raised his head, his eyes widening as he looked through the iron bars at Olivia. Standing beside her, framed by the flickering torchlight, was Adrian, his silver skin glowing faintly in the gloom.
Marcus let out a bitter, raspy chuckle. "Ah, the rightful heir returns to gloat. Have you come to execute me? To finish what your mother started?"
"I didn't come to kill you, Marcus," Olivia said, her voice entirely devoid of anger, which seemed to disturb him far more than rage would have. "I came to ask you a simple question."
Marcus glared at her through the bars. "Ask away. Though I doubt you'll like the answer."
"Why?" Olivia asked softly. "You had wealth, power, and an entire empire. Why murder my mother? Why steal me away and raise me as a prisoner in your own house instead of just ending it all?"
Marcus fell silent for a long moment, staring down at his calloused hands—hands that had signed thousands of corporate decrees but were now utterly powerless.
"Because power is never enough when you live in the shadow of giants," Marcus whispered hoarsely. "Helena... your mother... she offered peace, but peace meant subordination. She held the skies, and we held the earth. But I wanted both. I thought if I took her crown and raised her heir under my thumb, I could control the magic of the north forever."
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He looked up, meeting Olivia's steady golden gaze. "I failed. Not because I wasn't ruthless enough, but because blood always remembers what it was taught to forget."
Olivia turned away from the cell, her cloak sweeping behind her. "Enjoy the quiet, Marcus. You have a very long time to think about your empire."
