Semua Bab REVENGE AFTER REBIRTH-THE LORD'S FORSAKEN BRIBE: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The Prime Minister’s smile sharpened. “Instability is a gentle term. Madness would be more fitting. The nobles tire of his rages, his blood-soaked displays. They seek order. They seek a future.”He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming. “And I intend to give it to them.”I replaced the letter, folding my hands calmly. “And where does Aria fit into your vision?”His expression flickered, just slightly. “Ah. So you have heard.”“Whispers,” I said smoothly. “That she weeps in her chambers, yes… but also that she writes letters. Reaching for sympathy. For power.”He inclined his head, almost in admiration. “Indeed. She has sent word to certain houses. Appeals for aid. A wounded bird begging to be sheltered. Some fools pity her. Others see her as a tool a way to strike at Damien without facing him directly.”“And you?” I asked. “Do you see her as a tool?”His smile was razor-thin. “I see her as a child playing with daggers. Dangerous enough to cut herself… but not to wound me.”I allowed mysel

Gasps rippled through the hall.“Oh, poor child…”“…she still bears the mark…”“…and yet she comes…”She lowered her eyes demurely as she stepped inside, two ladies trailing behind her like attendants. Her movements were slow and careful, as though each step carried the weight of suffering. She did not seek the center of the room, but the effect was the same: every gaze turned, every whisper stirred.Damien stiffened at my side. His jaw clenched, his hand tightening painfully around my arm.“She dares,” he muttered under his breath.Of course, she dared.Aria did not need to raise her voice. She did not need to accuse. Her silence screamed louder than any outburst. Every glance at her bruise, every sigh from sympathetic lips, was an indictment against him.I moved from Damien’s side, my steps measured, my smile serene. When I reached Aria, I inclined my head just so. “Sister. how brave of you to join us.”Her eyes lifted, shining with unshed tears, her voice trembling sweetly. “I coul

For a moment, silence stretched between us, filled only by the whisper of distant wind through the halls. I studied him, the set of his jaw, the quiet fire in his eyes. He was not pleading for the realm. He was pleading for me.A dangerous line.“I will survive,” I said at last, my tone as smooth as steel. “Not by striking blindly, but by waiting. Aria will trip on her own web. Damien will choke on his desperation. The serpents will reveal their fangs, and the Prime Minister his hunger. When they do, I will not need to lift my sword. I will only need to watch.”Cassian stepped closer, close enough that the torchlight caught the silver threads in his dark hair. “And if you misjudge? If their bite reaches you first?”I tilted my chin, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “Then you will do what you always do, Cassian. Catch the blade before it strikes.”For the first time, his composure faltered, his eyes flickering with something unspoken. He looked away, as though distance could erase the w

The council chamber was colder than the winter air outside.Tall windows admitted pale light that glanced off marble floors, but it did little to warm the space.Nobles sat in heavy silence, their faces drawn, their eyes flicking between two figures: the Prime Minister, standing calm at the center, and Damien, seated at the head of the table, his knuckles white against the carved armrest.I sat at Damien’s right, my posture composed, my hands folded lightly before me. I spoke no word. I did not need to.The Prime Minister’s voice filled the silence, smooth and deliberate. “We must address the unrest in the border villages. Reports of grain shortages, unrest among the farmers, and serpent sympathizers stirring rebellion.”Damien slammed his fist against the table. “Then send soldiers! Break their backs before they grow bold enough to strike!”A murmur rippled through the nobles, uneasy, disapproving.The Prime Minister did not raise his voice, but his words carried as sharp as steel. “

The letters came to me by accident.A careless maid, a dropped satchel, a glimpse of parchment too finely sealed for common errands. But fate rarely deals accidents only opportunities.I waited until nightfall to study them in the solitude of my chambers, the candles burning low, shadows flickering across the walls.The seals bore the marks of noble houses, though something in the strokes of the ink betrayed them. Too precise. Too careful. Forgeries.Aria’s handiwork.The words within were poison. Suggestions of collusion, whispers of secret meetings between me and serpent envoys, hints of betrayals yet to come.If these letters ever reached the right hands, they would be enough to stir doubt, to brand me a traitor.I held them in silence, the fire crackling softly beside me.So. Aria had abandoned pity as her only weapon. Now she sought to forge daggers from ink and parchment. Clever. Too clever.But fire devours cleverness.I rose, feeding each forged letter into the flames one by o