All Chapters of MATERD TO THE SON OF THE DEMON KING: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Timothee's POVWe spent the rest of that week in careful, detailed conversation with Lady Ysolde and the small delegation she'd brought, comparing historical records, cross-referencing dates and details neither kingdom's archives had fully understood in isolation.The work fell into a rhythm none of us had expected, long mornings in the archive followed by afternoons spent testing theories against each other, occasionally interrupted by genuine excitement when some overlooked detail finally clicked into place against a matching fragment from the other kingdom's records. It felt less like diplomacy and more like collaborative discovery, the careful formality of Lady Ysolde's initial arrival slowly giving way to something closer to genuine partnership.Enid worked alongside Vaelith's own chief archivist for hours at a stretch, the two of them bent over documents from both kingdoms, occasionally calling out discoveries that made the rest of us stop whatever we were doing to come listen.

CHAPTER Corin's POVWord of the engagement spread through the palace faster than any formal announcement could have managed on its own, which I supposed was fitting, given how little of what mattered in this family had ever stayed contained to official channels.I found Timothee at breakfast the next morning looking like a man who'd barely slept, though not from any trouble, just the particular sleeplessness of someone whose life had shifted overnight into something he was still catching up to feeling real."You look terrible," I said, settling across from him. "In the good way.""Thank you, I think." He pushed a plate toward me that he clearly hadn't touched. "I don't think I've stopped smiling since last night, which is apparently exhausting in its own way.""Get used to it. I intend to make the next several months as celebratory as possible, given how little celebration this kingdom's had reason for lately.""I was afraid you'd say that.""You should be afraid. I've already spoken

Timothee's POVI found Kaelen in the archive long after the rest of the palace had gone quiet for the evening, surrounded by the same stack of records he'd been working through since Vaelith's delegation departed, though tonight he wasn't cross-referencing dates or prophecy fragments. He was reading something older, something personal, a small leather journal I didn't recognize."You're here late," I said, settling into the chair across from him."Couldn't sleep." He closed the journal carefully, though not before I caught a glimpse of familiar handwriting on the open page. "It's my mother's. I found it going through her things again, properly this time, instead of just searching for anything relevant to the letter.""What does it say?"He was quiet for a moment, turning the journal over in his hands the way Corin had turned our father's letter over before finally opening it. "She wrote about Corin's mother," he said finally. "Not just the delivery. Actual friendship, or something clo

Timothee's POVThe western delegation arrived eight days before the wedding, a modest procession by palace standards, a handful of wagons and riders making their way up the main road at a pace that suggested none of them were in any particular hurry to rush the journey's final stretch.Rosalind rode at the front, straight-backed despite what must have been an exhausting trip, and I found myself oddly nervous watching her approach, the same nervousness I imagined a person felt meeting a parent's most exacting relative for the first time."Your Majesties," she said, dismounting with more ease than her age might have suggested, offering a bow precise enough to carry genuine respect without tipping into anything that felt performative. "Thank you for the invitation.""Thank you for making the journey," I said. "I know it wasn't a small ask.""Nothing worth doing usually is." Her sharp eyes moved past me to where Corin stood waiting, and something in her expression softened slightly, the p

Corin's POVThe garden looked different transformed for the occasion than it had during our morning inspection weeks earlier, strung with simple lights that Kaelen had insisted on rather than anything more elaborate, arguing convincingly that this family had earned understated joy more than ostentatious spectacle.I stood near the front with Timothee, both of us dressed formally but not stiffly, watching the guests settle into rows of seats arranged among the late blooms. Rosalind sat near the front alongside several elders from the Fields, dressed in her own settlement's finest rather than anything borrowed from court fashion, and I found the sight of her there, in this garden, steadying in a way I hadn't expected to need."You're doing the nervous jaw thing," Timothee murmured beside me."I don't have a nervous jaw thing.""You absolutely do. You've done it since we were strangers standing in a throne room together.""This is different circumstances entirely.""Is it? We're both sti