All Chapters of No Reply From The Crown: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

9 Chapters

Chapter 1

"Your Majesty, an urgent letter from the Duchess of Valecrest. Three days ago, as Her Grace rode for her duchy, Selovian soldiers seized her. Their king demands ransom."Elron, the king's valet, stood pale, the parchment shaking in his hands. "It is the ninety-ninth plea she has sent. Will you not read it?"Leon Ravelmont laughed coldly and ripped the letter in half. "Another cry for attention. Ignore it. Valecrest borders Selovia—yes—but a few wandering patrols do not make a war. Captured? She thinks me a fool."Elron swallowed and dared to press on. "The letters came from Selovia. They do not seem false.""Enough."Leon flung his teacup. Porcelain shattered across the floor. "She knows nothing but jealousy. I showed kindness to a loyal servant's sister, and she struck at her for it."If she had truly met Selovian soldiers, she would have fled. How could she be taken? I sent her back to her lands under my finest guard. There is no chance she was captured."By then, my head had

Chapter 2

After Leon tore apart my ninety-ninth plea, no more letters followed.The winter feast drew near. Each year, I would shape his gift with my own hands.This year, his gift for me was ready.Mine never came.He grew restless.He believed I had shoved Mira into the freezing river because of a gown. In his anger, he sent me back to Valecrest.He felt no guilt. If anything, he counted himself merciful—sending his finest guard to escort me home.Now the servants claimed Mira had dismissed that very guard in his name.He must have thought, 'Absurd. Mira may be bold beneath my favor, but she is gentle. How could she stoop to this?'In his eyes, I was petty. Jealous. The sort of woman who would forge ninety-nine letters just to win his notice.Leon flung the gift he had prepared for me onto the table, his face dark. "Aya, Aya... when will you ever grow up?"My soul hovered above him. My body was long gone, yet the ache remained.Mira resented me. She liked taking what was mine. Leon

Chapter 3

The next morning, Mira burst into Leon's chamber, drenched in blood."Your Majesty, I failed... I angered Aya. She sent someone to kill me. Do not blame her. It is my fault."Leon's eyes blazed. He pulled her into his arms."Where is the court physician? Move! If anything happens to Mira, none of you will live to answer for it!"Then his face hardened to ice."Bring Aya to me. Now. If she does not come and beg Mira's pardon, I will have Darian's grave torn open."Darian. My father. The late Duke of Valecrest.I stared at him, hollow.Even as a spirit, I felt it—the tremor in my chest.But I was already dead.How was I meant to beg?This time, the royal messenger did not linger. He rode to Valecrest without rest.He returned with my mother.The Dowager Duchess fell to her knees before Leon, trembling."Your Majesty, Aya is dead. I beg you—spare our family.""What?"Before he could rise, Mira sagged against him. "Your Majesty, Aya would rather feign death than admit she h

Chapter 4

"What head?" Leon's face darkened. "Today is our wedding day. What game is Aya playing now?"Enough. Bring her out to me. At once."The tears on my mother's face had long dried. Only numbness remained."Your Majesty, Aya cannot be brought before you. She is truly dead.""Absurd." He gave a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "First, forged pleas for rescue. Now, a severed head? Do you understand the price of misleading your king?""Misleading the king?"My mother looked up, eyes bloodshot, voice shaking but fierce. "Every word I speak is truth. My daughter was the Duchess of Valecrest—your BETROTHED."She was attacked on the road home and taken by Selovia. They KILLED her."Leon would not accept it.To him, it was another scheme."Nonsense. If this were true, why was I not told? My personal guard answers to me alone. Who would dare withdraw them?"My mother's gaze shifted—cold and sharp—until it struck Mira."You keep Mira Stacey at your side day and night. She holds the royal decre

Chapter 5

"Aya..."Leon's hand shook as it reached toward my head—then froze in the air.He stared at my ashen face, searching for some hint of trickery.There was none.Only the stillness of death."How could this happen?" His voice fractured.My mother's words sliced through the stillness. "Your Majesty, perhaps you should ask the woman at your side."Leon's gaze snapped to Mira.She trembled and dropped to her knees, but he caught her before her forehead touched the ground. His grip tightened until she cried out."The royal decree to withdraw the troops—besides me, only you could have issued it.""Your Majesty, it was not me. You must believe me!""Until the truth is uncovered, you will remain in the abandoned castle."He shoved her away and turned to Elron. "See it done.""Your Majesty! I have been wronged! My brother died for you! You swore you would care for me—you swore you would never harm me!"She reached for his old mercy.This time, he did not turn back.Elron seized h

Chapter 6

Staged death? Fled together?Each word sank into Leon."Search the city. Seal every gate. Call the Royal Guard. We ride for Valecrest Castle."They reached the castle by dusk.At the gates, my mother stepped before him, arms outstretched."Your Majesty, you have taken Aya's body. She is dead. And Elia—he fell into a ravine after saving her. We do not know if he lives. Have mercy."Leon flung the ring at her feet. "Still shielding them? This is proof."Search the estate. Tear it apart."She seized his leg. "No. You cannot enter."The horses screamed and reared. Steel flashed.In the surge of bodies, the sword at his waist slipped free.A sickening sound.The blade plunged into her chest.Leon went still. His pupils shrank as she crumpled before him.He dropped to his knees, hands pressing against the blood that would not stop."Mother!"I ran to her, sobbing. My arms passed through her cooling body.Why? Why must I watch this, even in death?The light left her eyes—lik

Chapter 7

Torches guttered in the dungeon, firelight flashing over hooks and iron blades.Mira hung chained to the wall. The softness she once wore like silk was gone.She saw Leon and forced a crooked smile. "Your Majesty... you finally came. I knew you couldn't bear to—""You reassigned the guards."His voice was flat as stone.Mira jerked her head up, tears streaking her face. "I didn't. You have to believe me—""Enough." The word struck like a blade. "The Captain of the Royal Guard told me everything. Every lie. Every whisper you fed me. Mira, I gave you my trust. Why did you harm my queen?"His eyes held no fury—only grief, deep and hollow."Even now," he said quietly, "you will not give me a single truth?"She met his gaze. The tears stopped.Hatred flared, bright and naked."So what if I did?"Mira lifted her chin. Madness flickered in her eyes."Why should she have it? A jealous, narrow-hearted woman—why should she be queen? Why should she have you? I loved you. From the fir

Chapter 8

Mira hung from the highest gate of the Royal Capital.The rope carved into her slender neck. The sun showed no mercy. Her fair skin blistered and split beneath the heat.Each day, at the same hour, a royal messenger stood below and called out, "Do you admit your guilt?"On the first day, she screamed until her voice tore raw—curses for me, for Leon, for every soul who dared look up.On the second, the curses broke into pleas. Thin. Shaking. Almost lost to the wind.By the third, even that was gone. Her lips were split and swollen. Her eyes, burned dry by sun and thirst, barely opened.At dawn on the fourth day, the first blade of light cut across what remained of her.The soldiers brought her down.Without a word, they severed her head.Before her end, she still begged Leon to spare her—for her brother's sake.Leon did not answer.He did not ask how she died. He did not look toward the gate.Instead, he locked himself inside the hall where my body lay.Seven days passed.

Chapter 9

Leon did not lie beside me.He knew he had no such right.Instead, he knelt three steps before my coffin—like the most devout believer. Like the lowest sinner.From his sleeve, he drew the dagger he had hidden there.He did not aim for his heart.He turned the blade to his left wrist and cut. The artery split. Blood rushed out, striking the cold stone in steady drops.Then his right wrist—He carved deeper this time.So deep the bone showed.A muffled groan slipped from him. Sweat gathered at his brow.Jaw clenched, he raised the dagger to his chest—slightly left, never the true center of his heart.The blade sank in.Twisted.Withdrew—slow.He did not seek mercy.He chose punishment.Blood soaked through his mourning clothes and spilled across the stone, spreading wide like a dark, ruined blossom. It crept outward, inch by inch, until it reached the base of my coffin.His breaths turned ragged. Thin. The color drained from his face.With what little strength remained

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