Chapter 002: The Unspeakable 

(Liora's POV)

The King's court was unusually crowded that morning.

I sat beside Alistair on the raised throne, my hands folded neatly in my lap as I listened to the heated discussion unfolding before us.

Two men in the dark blue uniforms of Solmora's trading department stood in the centre of the hall. Both looked deeply uncomfortable. One kept wiping his forehead despite the cool air, while the other stared at the marble floor as though hoping it would swallow him whole.

The King's Beta stood a few steps away from them, holding a document in his hand.

“Explain it again,” Alistair demanded.

The older of the two officials swallowed. “Your Majesty, we were overseeing the inspection of incoming merchant vessels when we encountered the ship. It was anchored near the eastern trade route, but it bore no flag or identifying marks.”

“And that justifies your decision to seize it?”

“No, Your Majesty. We questioned the men aboard, but they were uncooperative. They refused to identify their vessel or provide any documentation. They were also rather disrespectful to our officers.”

Alistair's expression darkened. “So you destroyed it?”

“We believed it was involved in illegal trading, Your Majesty.”

“You believed?”

The official lowered his head.

The Beta stepped forward. “The ship was carrying goods from Verkhane. Its identity was confirmed after the destruction, when a surviving crew member managed to reach one of their coastal outposts.”

A murmur passed through the court.

I glanced at Alistair. His fingers had tightened around the armrest of his throne.

“How many men were aboard?” he asked.

“Twenty-three, Your Majesty. Twelve survived.”

“And the cargo?”

“Destroyed along with the vessel.”

Alistair stared at the officials for a long moment before turning to his Beta.

“How long have we known?”

“We received the first report three days ago. The confirmation from Verkhane arrived yesterday evening.”

“Three days?” Alistair repeated. “And you are only bringing this before me now?”

“We were waiting for confirmation, Your Majesty.”

“Then you should have been praying the report was false.”

Silence settled over the hall.

I had heard the name Verkhane many times since becoming Queen of Solmora. It was one of the few kingdoms whose power Alistair never questioned, and its alliance was among the most valuable things his crown possessed.

Verkhane was wealthy, its armies formidable, and its trade routes stretched across territories that other kingdoms could only dream of accessing. Solmora benefited greatly from its friendship.

But there was something else.

The Beast King.

King Hazem Valthazar.

Even in our own court, men lowered their voices when speaking of him.

“Have they sent a formal complaint?” one of the council members asked.

The Beta nodded. “A messenger arrived this morning. King Hazem demands an explanation for the destruction of his vessel and the deaths of his men.”

“Then we shall provide one,” another councillor suggested. “The officials have already explained that the ship was unmarked. We can send a letter of apology and offer compensation for the lost cargo.”

“Compensation?” Alistair scoffed. “Do you think Verkhane needs our money?”

The councillor fell silent.

“We could offer them access to our western ports,” another man proposed.

“They already have access.”

“Perhaps an increased share of the southern trade routes?”

“Verkhane controls more trade routes than we do. What exactly are we offering them that they don't already possess?”

No one answered.

The Beta stepped forward again. “We could send a delegation to Verkhane. A formal apology from the crown, accompanied by the officials responsible for the incident. We could make it clear that the destruction was not ordered by the King.”

“And what happens when Hazem decides he wants their heads?” Alistair asked.

The Beta hesitated.

It was not an unreasonable concern.

Verkhane had a reputation for being unforgiving. Its king, in particular, had little patience for explanations, excuses, or apologies that came after an offence had already been committed.

I had heard stories of neighbouring rulers who had lost entire border territories over smaller disputes. Others claimed Hazem had once executed an ambassador for delivering a message he considered disrespectful.

Whether every story was true, I couldn't say.

But no one in the court seemed willing to test him.

“Your Majesty,” one of the trade officials began cautiously, “we really did not know the vessel belonged to Verkhane. Had we known—”

“Do you think that will matter to him?” Alistair snapped.

The man immediately bowed his head.

“The ship is destroyed. His men are dead. And you expect me to believe King Hazem will simply accept that you didn't know whose property you were destroying?”

No one spoke.

Alistair rose from his throne and descended the steps, his expression growing more severe with every passing moment.

“Do you understand what this alliance means to Solmora? Our trade, our military agreements, our access to Verkhane's territories. Do you know how many kingdoms would gladly take our place?”

He stopped in front of the two officials.

“And now, because you couldn't control your tempers, you've given their king a reason to turn against us.”

The older official dropped to his knees.

“Your Majesty, please. We never intended to offend Verkhane.”

“Intentions will not save you.”

I watched Alistair turn away from them.

For the first time since I married this man, I saw something beyond anger in his expression.

Fear.

Not the kind of fear that made a man tremble or run. Alistair was far too proud for that. It was the fear of a man who understood how much he stood to lose.

“What does King Hazem want?” he demanded.

The Beta glanced at the document in his hand. “The message does not specify. It only states that Verkhane expects Solmora to take responsibility for the insult.”

“Of course it doesn't.”

Alistair began pacing.

“We could offer a royal tribute,” someone suggested. “Something worthy of the House Valthazar.”

“Such as?”

The councillor hesitated. “Gold. Jewels. Perhaps rare artefacts from the royal treasury.”

Alistair let out a humourless laugh.

“Verkhane has gold mines, precious stones, and craftsmen whose work is sought after by every royal house on this continent. What treasure of ours could possibly impress them?”

The suggestions continued, but none seemed to satisfy him.

Every offer was either something Verkhane already possessed or something that would be too insignificant to appease its king.

Then Alistair stopped pacing.

His gaze settled on the two officials kneeling before him, but his expression changed as though an entirely different thought had just occurred to him.

“Perhaps we've been looking at this the wrong way.”

The Beta frowned. “Your Majesty?”

Alistair turned towards him.

“Tell me, what do we know about the Beast King?”

The Beta seemed momentarily confused by the question.

“King Hazem is said to be permanently trapped in his wolf form, so he never leaves his palace. There are also rumours that he survives by feeding on the blood of pure-blooded wolves.”

“Exactly.”

Alistair's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“King Hazem Valthazar of Verkhane has a beastly appetite for pure blood, but Verkhane is not one of the kingdom's with pure blood wolves. That tells us that they source pure blood in other kingdoms. The thing they'd appreciate the most is a bag of pure blood. A vessel, even better.”

I had heard those rumours before, but I never cared enough to question them.

Alistair looked around the court, then slowly straightened.

“I know just the perfect gift.”

His words drew everyone's attention.

He turned towards me. “Follow me.”

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

“Your Majesty?”

“I said follow me, Queen Liora.”

He didn't wait for my response before walking out of the throne room.

I rose from my seat and followed him, wondering what he could possibly need from me. Behind us, the court remained unusually quiet.

Alistair led me through the royal corridors, past the grand staircase and the eastern gallery, until we reached my private chambers.

I almost stopped at the doorway.

He hadn't entered my chambers in nearly three years.

The servants hurried to open the doors for him, and he walked inside without so much as a glance in my direction.

His eyes travelled across the room.

The embroidered curtains, the polished dressing table, the collection of jewellery displayed in a glass cabinet, the expensive gowns hanging neatly inside the wardrobe far across the room.

He gave a short, mocking laugh.

“Look at all this.”

I stood near the entrance, unsure what he was getting at.

“All these jewels, all these beautiful dresses. A queen's wardrobe, a queen's chambers, a queen's title.” He turned towards me. “You have it all. And yet, not a single baby in sight.”

My cheeks burned.

“Your Majesty…”

“Five years, Liora. Five years of dressing you in silk and adorning you with jewels, and what do I have to show for it?”

I lowered my eyes.

He approached the dressing table, picking up a necklace before dropping it carelessly back onto its velvet cushion.

“You've been so useless to me that I almost forgot you had any value at all.”

My fingers curled against my palms.

I wanted to ask why he had brought me here. I wanted to believe there was some misunderstanding, that he wasn't about to say what I feared he was going to say.

But Alistair looked at me with the same cold amusement he'd shown in the throne room.

“You know what?” He tilted his head. “Since you've been so useless to me, I'm presenting you with a chance to be useful for once.”

I stared at him.

“Be the gift from Solmora to Verkhane.”

For a moment, I couldn't understand the words. They seemed to hang in the air between us, meaningless and absurd.

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty. What did you just say?”

Alistair's expression didn't change.

“Your pure blood has been useless in the matter of giving me an heir, but it will be very useful to that Beast King.”

My lips parted.

“What?”