Chapter 84

Third Person’s POV

The conversation had reached its natural end.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Miu remained seated, her gaze distant as though still lost in everything they had discussed.

Christian watched her for a moment before finally rising from his chair.

“I will leave you to your thoughts now, Your Majesty.”

Miu blinked and stood as well, seeming almost startled to find herself back in the present.

“Thank you for coming.”

Christian nodded, but before turning away, he hesitated, “Do not discredit yourself so much.”

Miu looked up.

“You are more than a fallen prince. And you are more than your father’s legacy.”

The words struck something deep inside her. Christian saw it immediately in the way her gaze faltered.

He sighed.

There was a reason he could say those words with absolute certainty.

A memory surfaced in his mind—a memory so old that decades had passed since it happened, yet he could still recall every detail as though it were yesterday.

It had been during one of Arthur’s grand celebrations. The palace had been overflowing with nobles, merchants, and dignitaries from every corner of the kingdom. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the Grand Hall while music and laughter filled the air.

Yet beneath the luxury lingered an unease that no amount of gold could conceal.

Earlier that day, news had spread that the Duchess of Ravaryn had taken her own life.

Everyone knew why.

Arthur’s cruelty was no secret.

Nothing ever satisfied him for long—not wealth, not power, not the countless women and treasures constantly offered to him. Whenever his temper found a target, disaster inevitably followed. The Duchess had merely been unfortunate enough to become the latest victim.

Christian had attended the celebration only because duty demanded it. Before entering the palace, he had left a strict instruction for his young daughter.

Stay in the car.

Lena had pouted, crossed her arms, and complained the entire time.

He remembered smiling despite himself.

The girl had obeyed.

For all of twenty minutes.

The sudden silence inside the Grand Hall had immediately drawn Christian’s attention. Conversations died one by one until the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

He turned toward the disturbance and felt his blood run cold.

A small figure stood frozen in the center of the hall.

Lena.

A shattered bottle lay at her feet. Red wine stained the marble floor like spilled blood.

Nearby, a servant trembled in terror.

And seated upon the royal dais, Arthur was staring directly at her.

The King’s expression was calm.

Far too calm.

“Whose child is this?” Arthur asked.

Christian’s stomach dropped.

No.

Not her.

Without thinking, he pushed through the crowd. Nobles stumbled aside as he rushed forward. The moment he reached Lena, he stripped off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders before pulling her behind him.

Then he dropped to one knee.

The impact echoed against the marble floor.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” he said immediately. “I lost sight of her for a moment. I shall replace the wine at once. If necessary, I will provide a month’s supply of your favorite vintage.”

The nobles surrounding them exchanged uneasy glances.

Everyone knew the wine was irrelevant.

Arthur wasn’t looking at the floor.

He wasn’t looking at the servant.

He was looking at Lena.

And once Arthur’s attention settled upon something, it was almost impossible to divert.

Christian remembered the terror he felt then. It didn’t matter that he was a duke. It didn’t matter how many battles he had fought or how much service he had given the crown.

If Arthur wanted his daughter, there was nothing he could do.

Then, just as the silence became unbearable, a voice cut through the grand hall.

“Guards.”

King Arthur did not raise his voice.

He did not need to.

The moment the command left his lips, his men stepped forward from every corner of the grand hall. Boots struck marble in perfect unison as they formed a ring around Christian and Lena.

Christian’s blood ran cold.

For one terrible second, the music stopped. The laughter stopped. Even the nobles watching from the sides seemed to forget how to breathe.

The king had made his decision.

And everyone knew what that meant.

A small hand tightened around Christian’s sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Lena whispered, her voice trembling. “I came to find you because I wanted to go home already.”

Christian immediately knelt and scooped her into his arms.

“No, no, my dear.” He wrapped his coat around her small body and pulled her tightly against his chest. “You did nothing wrong. Everything will be alright.”

The words sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Because it would not be alright.

Not with Arthur looking at them.

Not with that smile.

Christian knew that smile.

He had seen it before.

On nights when servants disappeared.

On mornings when bodies were found.

On occasions when someone’s suffering had become the king’s entertainment.

And Arthur looked entertained.

“Well…” Arthur finally spoke, swirling the wine inside his goblet. “Since I’ve been gifted with some hunting dogs tonight…”

A murmur spread through the nobles.

“I’d like to see how well they’re trained.”

His gaze settled on Lena.

Christian felt his stomach drop.

“But it isn’t hunting season.” Arthur tilted his head thoughtfully, as though genuinely considering a problem. Then a smile slowly spread across his face. “It’s a shame I don’t have much use for them.”

His eyes drifted toward Lena again.

“She will do.”

The hall fell silent.

Christian’s heart nearly stopped.

No.

Not her.

Anyone but her.

“Your Majesty—”

Arthur raised a finger.

The massive doors of the hall opened.

Growling echoed from beyond them.

Every noble stiffened.

Heavy chains rattled as handlers dragged several hunting hounds into the grand hall. The beasts strained against their restraints, muscles rippling beneath their coats as saliva dripped from exposed fangs.

The sound alone was enough to make Lena bury her face into Christian’s shoulder.

Christian immediately turned away from the approaching dogs, shielding her from the sight.

“No…” His voice faltered.

The handlers continued forward.

“No! Your Majesty, please reconsider!”

He stepped backward, only to find royal guards blocking every direction.

“To throw a living person to the dogs—this cannot happen!”

Arthur simply took another sip of wine.

“Father…” Lena whispered against his neck. “I’m scared.”

Christian’s grip tightened immediately. His daughter was trembling. Actually trembling. And there was nothing he could do.

“It’s alright,” he lied softly, pulling her closer. “Father is here.”

But before he could say anything else, several guards surged forward.

“No!”

Christian twisted violently as armored hands seized his arms. Others reached for Lena.

“LET HER GO!”

The little girl screamed as she was torn from his embrace.

“FATHER!”

“LENA!”

Christian’s roar echoed through the grand hall, but it changed nothing.

The nobles watched in silence as Lena struggled against the guards. She kicked. She cried. She reached desperately toward her father with both hands.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

A moment later, she was thrown onto the marble floor at the center of the hall.

“Ouch…”

Lena pushed herself upright, wincing from the impact.

Then she heard it.

Grrrrrr…

The low growl froze the blood in her veins.

Hunting dogs.

They surrounded her from every direction, held back only by the chains in their handlers’ hands. Their teeth flashed beneath the chandelier light as they snarled and snapped, close enough that one nearly caught the hem of her dress.

A hound suddenly lunged forward.

“AHHH!”

Lena stumbled backward with a scream as its jaws snapped inches from her leg.

Laughter erupted from the throne.

King Arthur leaned back, thoroughly entertained.

“Don’t rush them,” he said lazily. “Entertain me.”

The handlers obeyed immediately.

The dogs began circling.

Growling.

Snarling.

Waiting.

Lena’s vision blurred with tears.

“Father…”

Her small voice cracked.

“Please…”

Across the hall, Christian fought like a madman against the guards restraining him. His knees slammed against the marble floor. His shoulders burned from the struggle. Still he refused to stop.

“YOUR MAJESTY!” he shouted desperately. “I BEG YOU!”

Nobody answered.

The entire grand hall remained frozen.

“SHE’S ONLY EIGHT!” Christian’s voice broke. “LET ME TAKE HER PLACE!”

Arthur only laughed harder.

And in that moment, surrounded by nobles, knights, servants, and royalty, Christian understood the most horrifying truth of all.

There was not a single person in the room willing—or able—to save his daughter.