<h4>Chapter 271: You Really Are Leaving</h4>


    "You really are leaving?" she asked. She had grown ustomed to Lucivar’s constant presence in the castle.


    "I’m tired, Luna. I should have retired a long time ago, but you and the king were ying hide and seek," Lucivar teased, the faintest grin tugging at his lips.


    Lunaughed softly. "Yeah, we did do that," she said. She looked up at him. "Thank you for standing by me."


    "You are a magnificent queen. One that will be spoken of for centuries, even after you are gone. I am proud of you," he said. There was no ttery here, only truth, and Luna felt it resonate deep within her chest.


    She smiled, and bowed slightly as she carried the baby back into the room.


    Once she was out of earshot, Lucivar exhaled. "She isn’t going to listen, is she?"


    "No way in hell." Morvakar responded.


    "Werewolves really do not know how to share," he muttered.


    "Took you long enough to figure that out," Morvakar said dryly, earning a low chuckle from Lucivar.


    *****


    Isolde had just settled into her seat for dinner.


    The faint shuffle of footsteps drew her attention, and Natasha, appeared at the doorway. "Lady Isolde?" she asked softly.


    Isolde straightened. "Yes, Natasha?" she replied.


    "I have just been given instructions from the Queen’s personal servant, Leora, that you are to be moved out of Blood Castles by tomorrow," Natasha said. Her eyes flicked to Isolde’s expression, reading the flicker of shock and confusion that crossed her features.


    "Oh... uh... okay," Isolde stammered. "Where am I supposed to go?" Her mind raced, flipping through possibilities but the uncertainty gnawed at her.


    "I don’t know, mydy," Natasha admitted honestly, her brows knitting together. "I wish I could be of more help, but the instructions were very clear and sudden." Even in a world filled with political intrigue and power, the sight of someone being disced so abruptly always struck a chord.


    "Does Lord Lucivar know?" Isolde asked. Isolde’s mind spun with the implications. Could she rely on him? Would he protect her, or simply let the decision stand in deference to the queen’s authority?


    "I truly do not know anything. But if I may ask a few questions, mydy, I may be able to help you," Natasha replied. She had learned to navigate the delicate bnce of discretion and action over the years, knowing when to speak and when to step back.


    "Thank you, Natasha, but if you could just find a way to get me an audience with Lord Lucivar, I’m sure all of these will be sorted out," Isolde said, straightening her posture.


    "Sure, mydy," Natasha said, bowing slightly before exiting the room. As she left, her mind lingered on the recent changes surrounding Isolde’s relocation. She recalled the day Isolde had first moved into the concubines’ castle, tucked into Seliora’s former quarters. At first, Natasha had assumed that Isolde was being positioned as Lord Lucivar’s mate, considering the faint mark she had noticed on her neck, the telltale sign of a bond. But with the queen now directly involved, the situation was far more serious: it implied a prior dalliance with the king himself, a scandal potent enough to rattle the foundations of Blood City.


    Natasha chuckled quietly to herself, shaking her head at the irony. Well, serves the queen right, she mused silently. She thought she could monopolize the king’s attention, have him wholly to herself. Her mind wandered to Seliora, still confined and rotting in her prison, a tragic casualty of one mistake made out of love. The city had moved on, the court having long since forgotten the sacrifices Seliora had made.


    Whatever fate awaited the queen, Natasha thought, she deserved it in full measure.


    *****


    Morvakar lingered outside Thessa’s door. The modest house stood quietly on a narrow street in the heart of Blood City, the faint hum of nightlife and the asional car passing by the only interruptions to the stillness. He had walked past it countless times. His fingers hovered over the doorframe, then retreated, his mind looping over every possible scenario. Was it fair to string her along? Was he justified in indulging in even a moment of intimacy when he knew the oue would hurt her?


    For minutes—he hesitated, debating whether to knock. The shadows from the streetlights stretched across the walls of the house.


    Finally, gathering what little courage he had left, he rapped gently on the door and stepped back, as though distance could shield him from the vulnerability he felt creeping up his spine. The door opened almost immediately. She looked stunning. Her hair framed her face softly. He was merely a sorcerer, and even that power, which had once defined him, had been diminished, drained by the events surrounding Damien, Luna, and the heir.


    "Hi. Are you ready?" Thessa asked, a soft, teasing lilt in her voice.


    "You look... beautiful... really beautiful," Morvakar managed to say. He hated the vulnerability in it, hated how utterly human it made him feel, but the words slipped out anyway.


    "Thank you," she said simply, a small, knowing smile curling her lips.


    "But I cannot do this with you," he said, and his hands clenched at his sides. "It will make it even harder when I need to leave." His admission hung in the air, betraying the centuries of stoicism he usually wore.


    "Morvakar, it’s just a date. And besides, even if you leave, you speak like you live at the other end of the world. It takes thirty minutes to get to you—and that’s if you’re driving slowly." Sheughed softly.


    She was simply offering the moment, the sharedughter, the warmth, the possibility of a small happiness that didn’t require the weight of immortality. Morvakar realized, almost painfully, that this was not a choice between despair and love, but between allowing himself to experience life and denying it out of fear.


    "It’s not just that... it’s everything happening right now," Morvakar said. He ran a hand through his dark hair.


    Thessa stepped closer, her presence warm and grounding. "Morvakar... I think you are a good man, that’s misunderstood. But I also think you are your own greatest warden. You find a reason to trap yourself in your loneliness." He wanted to argue, to insist that he was doing no such thing, but the truth lodged itself stubbornly in his chest.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!