Adrian stepped through the door of the chamber, his movements precise and deliberate, though the exhaustion from the raid was evident in the tension in his shoulders. His crimson eyes flicked to Misery immediately, and his expression shifted when he saw her pacing. Her movements were frantic, her hands wringing together, her body radiating unease.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice steady despite the worry flickering in his gaze.
Misery turned to face him, her chest heaving. “I have a plan,” she said quickly, her voice trembling with both urgency and fear. “Seraphine is going to help us.”
Adrian’s face darkened immediately, his jaw tightening as he crossed the room. “What?” he hissed. “You went to her? After everything I told you?”
Misery squared her shoulders, her silver eyes flashing with defiance. “Yes, I did. This is my child we’re talking about, Adrian. I needed to act. I couldn’t wait for you.”
Adrian’s crimson eyes blazed with anger and worry as he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “You can’t trust her,” he said sharply, his voice low but firm. “She’s using you.”
Misery’s frustration spilled over, her voice rising. “And what other choice do I have, Adrian? Sit back and wait for the King to take my baby?”
Adrian exhaled sharply, his tone softening though his frustration remained. “If you go against the King, the blood oath will kill you,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “Don’t you get that?”
Misery turned away, her shoulders slumping. When she spoke again, her voice was trembling but resolute. “I don’t care,” she said. “If it means my child has a chance, I’ll pay that price.”
Adrian stepped closer, his hand reaching for her arm. “You’re not thinking clearly, Misery. Let me help you. Don’t do this alone.”
Misery looked up at him, her expression torn between fear and determination. Before either of them could say more, the sound of boots echoed in the hall outside. The door swung open, and two guards stepped in, their faces impassive.
“You are summoned to the throne room,” one of them announced, his tone curt. “Now.”
Adrian and Misery exchanged a tense glance. Misery’s hand instinctively went to her chest, as if shielding herself, while Adrian straightened, his jaw tightening.
As they followed the guards, the air grew colder, the heavy silence pressing down on them. When they entered the throne room, the sight before them sent a chill through Misery’s veins.
The King sat on his ornate throne, his lips curling into a slow, cruel smile as his gaze settled on them. But it wasn’t the King that froze Misery in place—it was the small bundle cradled in a servant’s arms, her baby, swaddled tightly and fussing softly.
Misery gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “No,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Adrian’s hand moved to his side, his fingers twitching as if reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. His crimson eyes flicked to the King, burning with a barely contained fury. The King’s smile widened, his gaze filled with malicious delight.
“You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” the King said smoothly, his tone laced with menace. “But I always know what my children are up to.”