CHAPTER 28 - Most Valuable Concubine
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After what felt like an eternity, Sylvos finally rose, the hall hushing at his presence.
"Thank you all for attending this banquet," he began. "In light of Vrostvale's most generous gift to aid Thornmont's conquest, I would like us all to give a warm welcome to Nightshade concubine, Princess Griveen Vinterbane."
My heart wrenched.
Griveen and I weren't similar after all...
The woman smiled brightly as she stood.
"Thank you, Your Majesty, for such an honor. I promise to serve you well," she said, then turned to the hall. "If you all can step outside, I would like to show you the new power Thornmont wields."
Whispers instantly spread.
My skin dampened, my breaths turning shallow as my pulse quickened. Even standing felt like a struggle.
Virella helped me rise while the crowd drifted toward the courtyard.
"Raine, this isn't normal," she said in a hushed voice. "What's wrong?"
"Are you sick?" Sireen asked.
"I'm fine," I lied, though the words felt brittle.
The crowd stirred, moving like a tide toward the courtyard. I followed numbly, each step heavier than the last.
A sudden impact to my shoulder jolted me sideways.
"Oh, excuse me," Isolde's voice called mockingly. She swept past with her handmaidens right behind. "I didn't see you."
"It's fine," Virella sneered. "I know the years must be eating at your eyesight."
"Why you—"
"Enough," I hissed, waving the tension away. "Let's just go."
The courtyard opened before us, cold air brushing against my fevered skin. Yet the breeze did little to quell the sickness churning inside me. Torches lined the perimeter, their flames sputtering as if unsettled.
The crowd pressed closer as we reached Princess Griveen. Her smile was blinding, blue eyes gleaming like shards of ice, sharp and expectant.
"I present to you, Thornmont's victory!" she declared, her voice carrying over the murmur of nobles.
She raised her hand. And whistled.
Sireen stiffened beside me.
"Here they come," she whispered.
Silence echoed.
Then the air shifted.
A gust of wind swept through the courtyard, rattling the torches. All eyes lifted as a shadow circled the sky. It came with a sound like thunder — wings cleaving the night.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the beast descended.
It landed with a shuddering crash, talons raking stone. Snow-white fur covered its massive body, feline and sinuous, yet its wings stretched wide, feathers ruffling in the autumn breeze. Its head turned as though already selecting prey, beak gleaming under torchlight, curved and sharp.
"This," Griveen said, her voice triumphant, "is one of the many griffons Vrostvale has sent to Thornmont's aid."
The crowd murmured in awe and unease.
And Sylvos smiled.
I could barely comprehend the sight before me as my insides continued to twist painfully. I felt as though I was being eaten alive.
Just as the crowd started clapping, the griffon suddenly turned its head our way. Its icy eyes immediately pinned onto me as its fur bristled, tufted tail flicking.
Before I could react, it lunged, its beak gaping and talons outstretched.
The crowd erupted into panicked cries, bodies scattering out of the way. But I couldn't move. My limbs were stone, my breaths shallow.
Then the ground trembled.
Suddenly, thick vines erupted from the courtyard floor, serpentine and spiked with thorns.
They coiled around the griffon's hind leg, yanking it back mid-pounce.
The beast shrieked, wings flaring as it thrashed against the binds, but the vines only tightened, creaking like leather straps drawn taut.
Sylvos stood at the edge of the chaos, Briarvex raised.
The vines obeyed his will, dragging the griffon lower until its talons scraped helplessly at the stone.
"Your Majesty!" Princess Griveen's voice cracked as she ran toward the beast. "Stop! Please!"
"Stay where you are, Princess," Sylvos commanded without sparing her a glance. "Unless you want to die."
"What?" she stammered.
The emperor's eyes flicked to something behind the princess.
From across the courtyard, a shadow unfurled.
It slithered from the darkness, growing and twisting until it loomed nearly twice the size of the griffon. The crowd recoiled in terror. Gasps turned to screams as its form solidified.
Eyes, reflective and blue. Teeth, too many and too sharp. Fur, black as night.
The vylnir.
It prowled forward in its massive wolf-like shape, twisted and grotesque.
Each step looked barely restrained, its black fur rippling like oil under moonlight.
Drool slicked its fangs as its mouth twisted into a snarl.
The griffon thrashed harder, but the vylnir only inched closer, savoring its fear.
Griveen fell back, her voice shrill.
"What is that thing?!"
The vylnir turned its head, pale blue eyes locking onto me. It huffed, low and guttural, before turning its focus back to the griffon. Its black tongue flicked out, tasting the air — tasting prey.
"Hold your ground, Princess. Unless you wish to see your griffon shredded," Sylvos warned, his voice carrying over the panicked shrieks of the crowd.
He twisted Briarvex, and the vines constricted. The griffon screamed as the thorns dug in, drawing blood.
"No!" Griveen cried. "Please! He was only defending me!"
Sylvos ignored her.
With a flick of his wrist, the vines forced the griffon's head toward him. Thorns drove deeper, and the beast froze, its cries breaking off into a strangled whimper.
The courtyard stilled.
I watched, dread coiling in my stomach, as the griffon's pupils expanded into bottomless voids. The vines slithered and tightened, shifting like serpents, binding it without shattering bone.
Then the beast ceased its struggle.
Even as the vylnir stalked closer, its breath rolling out like fog against the night, the griffon remained unnervingly docile. As if waiting for a command.
"Excellent," Sylvos grinned. "It seems even griffons fall to Briarvex's control."
Princess Griveen staggered upright, her black skirt sweeping through the dirt as she rushed to her subdued beast. Her trembling fingers grazed the thorns before she turned to Sylvos, fury trembling through her voice.
"Your Majesty! How could you defile such a noble creature? It was only protecting me!" She thrust an accusatory finger toward me. "Griffons can read people's emotions. Look at her! She even carries daggers so openly! It's obvious she's after my life!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Faces turned toward me, eyes wide with intrigue and suspicion.
Meanwhile, my insides continued to twist painfully. I wished for nothing more than to rest.
Sylvos watched me carefully.
"Princess Raine," he said, his voice steady, "step forward."
"P-princess?" Griveen's voice cracked, her face paling as she stared at me.
Before I could move, Sireen seized my hand.
"Griffons can't read emotions," she whispered. "Griveen's lying."
A chill slithered down my spine as Sireen stepped away, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Virella. The latter's gaze burned into Griveen as though her eyes alone could set the woman ablaze.
I forced my legs to move, descending the steps into the courtyard. Nobles shrank away as I passed, their murmurs trailing behind.
Each step was a battle against the awful burn inside my body.
Yet my mind sharpened.
Griveen's Nightshade rank didn't add up. Even with her griffons, Orchid should have been the height of her ambition. Sylvos wouldn't grant her such favor without persuasion from a third party.
And why had the griffon attacked me? Why did Griveen lie about it reading emotions?
My eyes flicked to the Vrostvale princess. Her long, white-tipped hair swayed in the breeze as she sent a quick glance into the crowd. I followed it.
Isolde and Cerys stood among the nobles, their expressions carefully blank, though faint flickers of irritation marred their composure.
I turned back to Griveen.
And the pieces slid into place.
The Nightshades had played her. They'd offered her a rank in exchange for blood — mine. She could easily use her griffon as an excuse since no one can prove it could not read emotions.
Though if I died, Sylvos wouldn't let it go unpunished. He'd be furious losing someone who could command the vylnir. And his wrath would fall on Griveen, leaving her broken and discarded. While the Nightshades emerged unscathed.
Clever. Ruthless.
I reached Sylvos and bowed — though the motion made my vision swim.
"Princess Raine," he said carefully, "you look pale. Has the griffon frightened you?"
I straightened and arched a brow.
"It hardly seems a threat, Your Majesty. I've had worse pounce on me in the war chamber."
His lips curved, dark amusement glinting in his eyes.
"Oh? Then as Thornmont's Beast Warden, tell me. What do you think of this fine specimen we've acquired?" He gestured to the griffon who remained under his control.
Griveen flinched.
"B-Beast Warden?" she choked.
The vylnir growled and Griveen stumbled back, terror painting her face.
I tilted my head, feigning indifference.
"It's a bit small," I said flatly. "Useful for delivering letters, perhaps."
Sylvos barked a laugh while the crowd reeled in stunned silence.
"You've reduced it to a carrier pigeon," he said, grinning.
Carrier pigeon might've been harsh — though I meant what I said.
I was quite nervous to hear of the princess bringing creatures to help Sylvos' war but looking at it now, it was just barely the size of Starscale, one of the smallest dragons in our flock.
I had no doubt our dragons could cook these chickens.
"So? Do you think the vylnir could mimic its shape?" Sylvos asked.
I hesitated, my gaze flicking between them. The vylnir could change form at will. In theory, it was possible.
"Vyvy, ?α? ?συ ?α?? ??α? ??αρ??" I asked, pointing at the griffon.
Griveen's mouth gaped wide at the foreign words.
The vylnir snarled at the griffon before its fur coiled and thickened. The crowd gasped as its body warped, folding and reshaping itself, growing jagged wings and razor talons. Its beak sharpened, lined with rows of dagger-like teeth.
By the time it unfurled its black wings, it loomed over the courtyard — an echo of the griffon, but twisted and grotesque. Something from a nightmare.
"That... how...?" Griveen staggered back, her voice trembling.
"You see, Princess?" Sylvos said coldly. "Your creature nearly killed my most valuable concubine."
The words hung in the air.
Even I froze, my eyes snapping to Sylvos.
Most valuable concubine?
"She... she has ulterior motives, Your Majesty!" Griveen stammered. "My griffon sensed her hostility. She's an enemy of the empire!"
She wasn't wrong. Even if she was bluffing.
Pain suddenly stabbed through my stomach. My legs faltered, but I forced myself upright.
Sylvos' gaze locked onto me.
"The banquet is hereby concluded. Everyone, return to your castles," he commanded, striding toward me.
I stiffened as his fingers brushed my fevered brow. Before I could react, he sheathed Briarvex across his back and lifted me into his arms.
"Ah! Your Majesty, this is — this is improper!" I protested weakly.
"Unless you wish to die, you will not resist me," he warned.
That was enough to silence me. Guards closed ranks behind us and the emperor carried me away from the courtyard. The vylnir shifted back into its smaller form, slinking after us.
"Gσ ?α?? ?σ ?? ?σσ?. I α? ????," I ordered the creature.
It hesitated, growling lowly, before obeying.
The emperor's castle doors loomed ahead and welcomed us inside. Shadows crawled along the walls, flickering in the torchlight. Every servant and official we passed turned to stare, their eyes wide and questioning, but none dared to speak.
Dread sank its claws into me.
I knew exactly where we were heading.
"Your Majesty," I said, "this will not go unnoticed."
He didn't even glance my way as he carried me through the darkened halls and into his chamber.
The heavy doors thudded shut behind us, sealing me in.
My heart pounded as he laid me down on the black fur of his massive bed.
I scrambled into a sitting position, my back pressed against the cold, thornwood headboard.
Sylvos almost never brought women to his personal chambers.
The room was as I remembered — opulent, dark, and stifling.
Thorned vines twisted like serpents along the walls, ivy dangling like nooses from the silver chandeliers. The furniture gleamed, dark and sharp-edged, while the stained-glass windows cast eerie patterns of green and black across the floors. Beyond the balcony, the night sky stretched far.
Sylvos moved without a word, retrieving a silver goblet and a blade. My stomach turned as he dragged the knife across his wrist, crimson dripping steadily into the cup.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
His black eyes flicked to me.
"You already know my blood cures all poisons," he said, stepping closer.
My heart stilled as he sat on the edge of the bed, the goblet extended toward me.
"It's obvious you've been poisoned," he said. "You looked fine when the banquet began, yet now you're as pale as death and burning with fever."
I stared at him blankly, the words sinking in like ice.
I'd thought it was only nerves — but he was right. The fever, the dizziness... poison was the more likely cause.
I felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.
Reluctantly, I took the goblet. The blood smelled metallic, sharp as iron, and my stomach churned as I raised it to my lips. The first sip coated my tongue with bitterness, but already I felt the strength seeping back into my limbs.
When had I been poisoned?
And why?
If the Nightshades wanted me dead by the griffon's claws, why poison me too? To weaken me? Make me easier prey?
Then it clicked.
Sireen had given me her bread.
The air thinned.
Could it have been her?
No.
She'd mentioned it was her favorite bread, something she'd eaten since childhood. If it was poisoned, she must have been the real target — and I had simply intercepted it by chance.
A cold certainty settled in my chest.
Princess Griveen had orchestrated this. She knew the griffons couldn't read emotions. She must have wanted Sireen removed before the truth could come out. And with foreign dishes at the banquet, it would have been easy to slip poison into Sireen's favorite bread.
My mood soured as I drained the last of the blood. Strength surged through me, sharp and sudden, and the haze lifted from my mind.
No wonder I had died so often.
While my focus was directed on one task, another was after my life.
"I am curious," Sylvos said suddenly, "how you know my blood is a cure."
I stiffened as I realized how close he sat, his dark eyes unreadable. My fingers tightened around the goblet before I quickly handed it back.
"I... I've read about some of the cursed swords," I said carefully.
He tilted his head.
"From where?"
"The same old man who taught me High Elvish. He had many old books — some mentioned Briarvex." I tried remembering more information to come across less suspicious. "I read about Cascadea too. The tide sword allows its wielder to breathe under water just as yours grants you immunity to poison."
Sylvos studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"I've heard a similar rumor about the tide sword... I trust you'll keep my secret?" he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less dangerous.
I swallowed.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Satisfied, he nodded once and brushed his hand along my brow.
"There. You're already better," he said, his voice soothing. "Can I correctly assume you've already pieced together who's behind it?"
I tensed, shifting away from his touch, my eyes narrowing.
"Would it even matter?" I asked. "You'd never punish your precious Nightshades."
His sigh was heavy.
"Unless I have proof, I cannot act against them," he admitted. "Though I will have the matter investigated."
"So, you know they're guilty." My voice turned bitter. "Yet you'll do nothing. How many times must I die for you to find your proof? I nearly got devoured by an overgrown chicken."
Sylvos chuckled.
"You won't die so easily, Princess."
"You'd be surprised," I said flatly.
His smirk faded.
"Did I not cure your poison and save you from the griffon?"
My muscles tensed.
"Why did you save me? Didn't Princess Griveen say I was an enemy?"
Sylvos slowly unsheathed Briarvex, setting it beside the bed as he leaned back against the pillows, the silver strands of his hair spilling over the dark fabric. He looked maddeningly comfortable.
"I know she was lying about her griffon reading emotions," he said, resting his arms behind his head.
"If she was telling the truth, the creature should have enough mind to resist Briarvex's command like the vylnir.
Though like any lesser minded beast, it was subdued.
It's a shame the theory is hard to prove. "
"You knew and still let her slander me..." I whispered.
He tilted his gaze my way.
"I gave you the chance to show your strength, did I not? After what you did with the vylnir, I doubt she'll test you again."
I froze, my pulse quickening.
"You... orchestrated that show with the vylnir for me?" I asked.
"For us," he corrected. "Vrostvale's ego needed humbling. They think sending me these creatures and their princess means I owe them something. I wanted to show them I don't need their gifts. I'm merely indulging them out of convenience."
His lips curved slightly.
"Your little performance proved that. And in the process, you've made Griveen fear you. She won't try her luck again."
I stared at him, my thoughts spiraling.
Sylvos had always been cunning, but in my first life, he'd never revealed his thoughts so openly. Now I saw the truth... The man behind all the strategies that won him half the continent.
Every move he made was calculated.
Could I truly bring such a man to his knees?
Could I stop his conquest?
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