<h4>Chapter 234: You’re Still A Good Man</h4>


    Lucivar straightened, turning his gaze from the page to the man he had once called brother. His eyes seemed to peel back everyyer of Morvakar’s soul. He stepped closer, slow enough for the silence to press down. A faint, knowing smile ghosted over his face. Lifting a hand, he rested it briefly on Morvakar’s shoulder. "You’re still a good man," he said quietly, almost tenderly. Then he turned and walked out.


    Morvakar knew that Lucivar knew.


    Without another thought, Morvakar pivoted sharply and strode out of the parlour. He entered the small room.


    Luna was still asleep, her breathing steady, her face rxed in a rare moment of peace. The child had drifted to sleep in Thessa’s arms. The woman sat in a wooden chair, rocking gently, her hair catching the low light. When she saw him, she immediately stilled. Her eyes searched his, reading the tension there without needing to ask.


    Wordlessly, Thessa rose, cradling the baby for onest lingering moment before cing the small bundle beside his mother. The child stirred only faintly, a tiny fist curling, then rxing again. Thessa stepped around the bed and followed Morvakar out into the corridor.


    "Lucivar knows," Morvakar said grimly as they began climbing the narrow, spiral staircase back up from the basement.


    Thessa froze mid-step, her head snapping toward him so fast her hair almost pped him in the face. "What? How?" Her whisper was sharp, almost shrill, and it echoed up the stairwell.


    "We forgot to clear the books."


    Thessa groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead as they reached thending. "Oh goddess," she muttered under her breath. "Did he say anything?"


    "Not really," Morvakar replied as they stepped into the parlour. "So, I’ve been going through the books. Our only way out is to break the child like any other vampire." He moved toward the desk in the corner.


    Thessa was stunned. "Morvakar! He is barely a day old!"


    "Okay—" Morvakar turned toward her, both hands raised in mock surrender, "—see, this is why dealing with ordinary people is so confusing. You ask me for a solution to a problem, I give you the solution to the problem, and then you don’t want it?"


    Thessa stepped right into his space, ring up at him. "It’s not that I don’t want the solution! It’s the fact that your ’solution’ involves torturing a newborn to an inch of his life and then crossing our fingers that he survives. Do you not see the problem here?"


    "The child is a trueborn!" Morvakar shot back, his eyes shing dangerously.


    "A trueborn that was born bloodthirsty!" she countered, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You want to ’break’ him like some feral beast you found chained in the woods? He’s a baby, Morvakar."


    They stared at each other in the middle of the parlour, the tension vibrating.


    "Trueborns are strong. He can take it!" Morvakar’s eyes burned with a dangerous glint of certainty.


    "Or he dies!" Thessa’s retort was just as loud. She jabbed a finger toward the floor as though the baby were sleeping right beneath their feet.


    "What would you have me do?!" Morvakar demanded, his hands flinging out as if the answer might just be hovering in the air, waiting to be plucked.


    "I don’t know—look for another way!"


    Morvakar’s lips twitched in the beginnings of a bitter smirk. "Is that phrase unique to everyone in Blood City?" he asked dryly. "’Look for another way.’ As if the ’other way’ is just lying under the sofa waiting for me to trip over it."


    Thessa threw both hands up into the air, pacing two furious steps away from him before turning back. Her face was flushed. "You are a trueblood vampire, Morvakar. You will never understand what it’s like for the rest of us—the ones who were turned. We weren’t born into strength. We wed our way into it. We’ve had a good king for centuries, yes—one who protected us from ughter. But it doesn’t mean we stopped suffering. It doesn’t mean we aren’t still hunted in the shadows. We are still called lesser, like we’re animals. Not worth a thing."


    She stepped closer. "So no—you will not understand... how badly we need this child to live. He is our hope." Herst words came out softer, almost breaking, as though saying them aloud made the truth heavier.


    Morvakar’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining from him. Guilt pressed against his ribs, making it harder to breathe.


    He took one slow step toward her, closing the space until the faint scent of her skin brushed against his senses. "I promise you, Thessa... the heir will not die in my hands." His gaze locked on hers.


    Thessa drew in a deep breath, steadying herself, only to realize just how close he was standing. Her pulse picked up, traitorous in its rhythm. She looked up into his face—into the warmth that had softened his eyes.


    Neither of them moved. The silence stretched.


    Morvakar broke the silence first. "I am a banished sorcerer, Doctor Thessa."


    "I... I know," she whispered, the words slipping past her lips before she could think of a reason to deny them.


    He stepped closer. "You do not want to do this," he murmured, but his own gaze betrayed him, dragging down to her mouth as if he could already taste what he was warning her against.


    Her lips parted, betraying the quick hitch of her breath. "I do not," she admitted.


    "Well, isn’t this adorable?"


    The unexpected voice cracked through the air.


    Both their heads snapped toward the doorway leading up from the underground basement. Luna stood there. Her smile was far too wide.


    "Your Highness!" Thessa gasped, jolting back from Morvakar as though he’d burned her. Her hands shot behind her back.


    Luna sauntered forward. There was a limp in her step. "Don’t let me stop you, children," she purred, amusement dancing in her eyes.


    "You should still be in bed," Morvakar said stiffly, turning his back and pretending to busy himself at his cluttered worktable. The movement was just a little too abrupt.