30. 28
28
Draven
T he incessant babble of the war room buzzes like a hive of disgruntled bees, each council member more agitated than the last. I lean against the cool stone wall, the tension in the air prickling against my skin as if it knows something I don’t.
“Execution,” Councilor Vargas spits, his hawk-like gaze flitting over the assembly. “Let the traitors feel the kiss of silver. It’s the only language these dogs understand.” His words are met with solemn nods from some corners, while others exchange uneasy glances.
“Exile,” Lady Marcelline counters, her smooth-as-silk voice laced with an edge that can slice through bone. “Banish them beyond the kingdom’s borders. Let their immortal lives be a slow torment in solitude.” Her proposal hangs in the air, a thinly veiled compromise between mercy and cruelty.
“Rehabilitation,” Elder Jasper ventures, stroking his white beard thoughtfully. “We must seek to heal, not just punish. Let us guide them back to the light. Let Draven take the throne in their absence while they are given a chance to change.” His optimistic tone seems almost naive amidst the sea of hardened faces.
“Draven.” Thorn’s voice floats toward me, a whisper meant for my ears alone.
I nod subtly, feeling her hand squeeze mine beneath the table. Her touch is a reminder of our shared dream, a life far from the suffocating walls of the castle.
“Enough!” I finally burst out, my voice slicing through the barrage of arguments.
A hush falls over the room, all eyes on me. Even my mother, the queen, arches an eyebrow in surprise.
“Look, I get it,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I felt, “everyone’s got their knickers in a twist over this mess, but let’s not forget that we’re talking about people here, not just pawns on a chessboard. ”
I shoot a brief glance at Thorn, her steady gaze bolstering my resolve.
“Remember that they are still a loved father, husband and brother,” I continue, threading my fingers through hers while casting a quick glance at my mother. “They are safe in the dungeons below. All of you should be well aware of the things we have in place to stop any escape attempts. Many of them devices of your own creation. And frankly…” I smirked, despite the gravity of the situation. “I’d rather spend my days enjoying her company than sitting on some dusty throne, playing judge and jury to every squabble that breaks out.”
Murmurs ripple through the council members as they digest my words. Some look shocked, others contemplative, but all seem to recognize the sincerity in my voice.
“Life’s too short for endless power plays,” I quip, hoping my humor will ease the tension, “especially when there’s magic to explore, love to cherish, and, let’s be honest, better food to eat outside these walls. My father and brother will stay where they are.”
Thorn squeezes my hand, her silent laughter shining in her eyes. We are both ready to forge a path of our own, away from the lure of the throne and closer to the simple enchantment of our cozy life.
Gathering the last shreds of my courage, I square my shoulders and clear my throat. The room falls silent, all eyes on me—Draven, the reluctant heir with a penchant for dramatic pauses.
“Listen up,” I say, the words tumbling out in a rush, “we’ve been going about this all wrong—two sides at each other’s throats when we should be holding hands or whatever.” A snicker escapes me, but I am quick to smother it with a cough. “What I mean is, we need unity, not another round of ‘who hates whom’ more.”
A few nods, some skeptical looks. Typical.
I plow on, “I propose Anthony and Audrey as our next king and queen.”
I let that hang in the air, watching as brows furrowed and whispers take flight like startled bats in the night.
“Think about it,” I urge, feeling Thorn’s presence like a warm ember at my back. “A pureblood vampire and a turned vampire ruling side by side, it’s like… like a fairytale ending without the cheesy ballads. ”
Laughter ripples through the chamber, softening the edges of the tense atmosphere. I grin, pleased with the effect.
“Audrey’s got the lineage and training, and Anthony’s got the grit. Together, they’re the perfect blend of old blood and new beginnings.” I spread my palms wide, as if offering them a neatly wrapped gift. “They’ll usher in a new era, one of peace and understanding. The whole ‘fear and loathing’ vibe is done. The prejudices we held were only a wall put up so we felt no guilt when something would happen to a turned vampire. Did no one else notice that the spell my father and brother produced only targeted turned vampires? The crowns are gone, destroyed thanks to my mate. We no longer need to hold that opinion.”
There are nods now, thoughtful expressions painting the faces of even the most hardened council members. I can sense the shift, the sway of opinion like the tide turning beneath the moon’s gentle coaxing.
“Besides,” I ad with a wink in Audrey and Anthony’s direction, “they’re both easy on the eyes. Can’t hurt the royal image, right?”
That draws outright laughter, and I feel Thorn’s amusement pouring into me, her silent chuckle mingling with mine. It is a good sound, a sound full of hope and promise for a future where love isn’t just an afterthought.
“Who’s with me?” I ask, throwing down the gauntlet, challenging fate itself with a devil-may-care smile.
And just like that, the future seems a little less daunting, a bit more enchanting, as the room warms to the idea of two hearts ruling as one.