His Bride, Her Revenge

Chapter 127: The Echoes of Loyalty

The throne room of Valleria had never been so silent.

The stained windows filtered light across the marble floor, casting fractured colors that bled over Cambria’s armor. She stood at the center, unmoved, regal, eyes fixed on the open scroll in her gloved hands. Every syllable on it was a betrayal. Every line, a confession soaked in blood and silence.

Behind her, the high doors creaked open.

Lucien Vale entered, flanked by only two guards his choice. A show of faith, or perhaps arrogance. Cambria didn’t turn. She didn’t need to. She could feel his presence like a storm pressing against her back.

"You summoned me, my Queen," he said, voice deceptively mild.

She turned slowly. "Did you think you wouldn’t be called to account?"

Lucien lifted his chin. "I expected it. Though I hoped... some shadows might stay buried."

Cambria’s hand clenched around the scroll. "Tell me, Father. How long have you known about the blood oath between Knox and Evelyn?"

Lucien’s jaw tensed. For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then: "Since before your coronation."

Silence.

"And you said nothing?"

"I had my reasons."

Cambria stepped forward, her voice sharp. "You let me believe I was alone. That everything Evelyn did was her own madness. But she was bound to Knox by blood, by a vow made in the ashes of my mother’s grave."

"She didn’t make that vow willingly," Lucien said. "She was a child, used as a pawn like you once were. Like we all were, in the early years."

"That doesn’t excuse it."

"No, it doesn’t. But it complicates it."

Cambria’s eyes burned. "You always say that. ’It’s complicated.’ ’It’s not that simple.’ And every time you do, another secret festers under this palace like rot."

Lucien’s voice softened. "I was trying to protect you."

"Then maybe you should have died instead of hiding for ten years."

His eyes flinched, just barely.

Cambria stepped past him, the echo of her boots filling the space. She climbed the steps of the throne and turned to face him from above.

"You kept secrets," she said. "Knox kept secrets. Evelyn lied. Even Maddox," her voice faltered for a second, " withheld what he knew about Project Pandora’s secondary protocol."

Lucien looked up at her, something unreadable in his gaze. "And now?"

"Now," Cambria said coldly, "you all answer to me."

Outside the palace, the wind howled over the cliffs of Valleria. The capital was rebuilding brick by brick, bone by bone. After the fall of the Black Cathedral and the unraveling of the Pandora Initiative, factions had scattered like insects under firelight.

Cambria had given them no mercy.

But mercy was not what the people wanted. They wanted strength. They wanted justice.

They wanted her.

And so, she gave it to them.

The throne room doors opened again. This time, it was Maddox who entered uninvited, unwarned, but not unwelcome. His eyes found Cambria instantly, ignoring Lucien as if he were a ghost. noveldrama

"Am I interrupting a family reunion?" he asked, voice dry.

Cambria stepped down from the throne, the scroll tucked beneath her arm. "Depends. Do you have anything else to confess?"

Maddox tilted his head. "You’d have to narrow that down. My sins are legion."

Lucien made a sound of disapproval. "This isn’t a joke, Raye."

Maddox smirked. "Oh, trust me. I know. I was tortured by your daughter’s twin, survived your other daughter’s biological weapon, and now I’m standing between both of them while your ghost comes back to give royal lectures."

Cambria’s mouth twitched. "He’s not wrong."

Lucien glared at both of them. "This kingdom needs order."

"It will have it," Cambria said. "But not through lies."

She handed the scroll to Maddox. He scanned it, his face unreadable.

"This... is a blood contract," he murmured. "Sealed by ancient rite."

"It links Evelyn and Knox. But the blood used... wasn’t hers."

Maddox looked up sharply. "Whose was it?"

"Mine," Cambria said quietly.

Lucien exhaled sharply.

Maddox’s fingers tightened around the scroll. "How?"

"When Seraphine was pregnant with me, she spilled blood in the Cathedral during the rite. Knox used it. Bound Evelyn with it. Which means... every move she made, every betrayal, every return wasn’t just about vengeance. It was about protecting me."

Lucien looked like he’d been struck. "That’s not possible."

"It is. And that means her motives were more complicated than we ever realized."

Maddox’s eyes darkened. "Then where is she now?"

Cambria turned toward the windows. "Gone. She left last night. I don’t know where."

"She doesn’t go far," Maddox murmured. "She never does."

That night, Cambria sat alone in her chambers.

The storm outside raged like a mirror to her thoughts. She stared at the flickering fire, the flames dancing across the stone walls like ghosts of her past. Evelyn. Knox. Lucien. Maddox. Sophia Drake. Even the shadows of Subject One still haunted her dreams.

So many pieces. So many betrayals. And yet, she still stood.

A soft knock broke the silence.

She didn’t look up. "Enter."

It was Maddox. He crossed the room without speaking, holding a folded piece of parchment.

"What is it now?" she asked.

"Intelligence from the North. The Ironlands."

Cambria raised an eyebrow. "We cleared them out weeks ago."

"Someone rebuilt them. And not just anyone."

He handed her the note. As she unfolded it, her breath caught.

The seal was unmistakable.

Black wax. A serpent biting its own tail.

"Seraphine’s crest," she whispered.

"But she’s dead."

"She was. And yet... this came through trusted channels. Delivered by a courier who vanished before they could be questioned."

Cambria looked up at him. "What does it say?"

He hesitated. "Only one line."

She unfolded the parchment fully. In crimson ink, written in sharp, almost delicate script:

"The Queen’s reign was never meant to end."

Cambria stared at it, her blood running cold.

Then, without another word, she tossed it into the fire.

The flames swallowed it whole but its warning burned into her bones.

Far away, across the frozen wastes of the Ironlands, beneath a blackened sky and swirling snow, a woman stood on the edge of a broken citadel.

Her eyes were silver. Her hair was white as ice.

Around her, soldiers in unmarked armor waited.

She turned to them and whispered, "She’s taken the throne. But the crown doesn’t mean she’s won."

And with that, Seraphine Vale reborn in vengeance stepped into the storm.