Chapter 1696:


    “Sweetheart, seeing your face again brings me such joy. But your father…”


    The words died on her lips. Long-suppressed grief erupted like a broken dam, tears cascading freely down her cheeks. For years she had entombed her anguish — and only now, in this sacred moment of reunion, did those chains finally shatter.


    Katelyn made no attempt to stem the tide of her mother’s sorrow. She simply held her, allowing the grief to flow unhindered, while her own heart hardened with quiet, venomous resolve.


    When Olivia had atst cried herself into an exhausted sleep, Katelyn’s features settled into a cial mask. The architect of their suffering would pay with nothing less than blood.


    With one final nce at her mother’s sleeping form, she turned and walked from the room.


    Something momentous was about to happen in Yata.


    Vincent had barely returned after resolving the situation in Butterfly Valley when Jaxen’s frantic call reached him.


    “Vincent — Katelyn has breached the pce gates.”


    Inside the pce, Katelyn gripped the ornate dagger and drove it with savage precision into the King’s chest.


    His face contorted with disbelief as he stared up at her. “You… aren’t you supposed to be dead? Why—”


    As his life force ebbed away, terror flooded his eyes. Never had he foreseen his end arriving so swiftly, or by Katelyn’s hand.


    She withdrew the crimson-slicked de, her gaze crystallizing into something cold and absolute. “Does the name Olivia stir your memory?”


    Those simple words made the King’s eyes dte with horrified recognition. How could he ever forget that name — especially when he had condemned her tonguish in shadows for so many years?


    “You!”


    “Yes,” Katelyn said. “I’m her daughter.”


    Understanding shed in his dying eyes.


    The doors burst open. Ryanna’s gaze darted between the bloodied dagger in Katelyn’s hand and her father crumpled in a spreading crimson pool on the floor.


    She lunged forward. “Katelyn, you murderer!”


    “Do you want to be queen?” Katelyn cut her off, her voice measured and unhurried. “The timing could not be more perfect.”


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    The King gasped, one hand reaching desperately toward his daughter. “Ryanna — help me. Arrest this murderer. Arrest her…”


    The plea consumed his final breath. Yet Ryanna stood motionless, making no move to summon the guards.


    Bitter understanding dawned in the King’s fading eyes. Disbelief contorted his features — his own daughter would watch him die without lifting a finger.


    Katelyn noted Ryanna’s calcted stillness. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a smooth, unhurried warning. “I won’t force your allegiance. But remember — if I can bring him down, you would pose no challenge.”


    The words hung in the air, deceptively quiet and absolutely lethal.


    Ryanna met her gaze steadily and replied with coolposure, “Don’t worry.”


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