Novel & Cerita The Queen They Buried

The makeup artist worked meticulously. Layer after layer disappeared beneath foundation. By the time she finished, there was no evidence of what had happened. The transformation felt symbolic. That was what powerful families did best. They erased evidence. A knock sounded at the door. Several women stepped aside as Meera's mother entered. The room immediately grew quieter. Her mother was beautiful in the way certain women became beautiful with age—not despite the years they had lived, but because of them. She wore a deep emerald saree embroidered with delicate gold thread, and although her expression remained composed, exhaustion lingered beneath her eyes.

But I can tell by the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes that he's grateful for my presence. The royal cemetery has an entrance made of gold with multicolored flowery plants growing by the way. The gravestones are made of shiny porcelain with the names of the dead ones written in gold. The royal undertakers are dressed in white robes as they carry the coffin containing the dead Queen's corpse. Zeron looks away just as she is lowered into the ground while Talon watches with glossy eyes.

“Is the agency keeping the rights that comes with the Masked Queen, are we going to have a new Masked Queen now that you’re leaving, do you know who it will be?” Letting out a snort, she replies. “Wow hawk-guy, looks like there’s a lot on your mind.” She chuckles and I force a small laugh along with her. “No, they’re not going to have a new Queen. It was a hard, long, and gruelling fight but I was able to retain the rights of the Masked Queen. And yes, at some point I will reveal my identity but right now, it’s not that time.” “F**king wow!”

I raised my eyes to match with the land, but I guessed my little speech had not gotten to him in even the slightest form as the same frown remained frozen on his lips. “I don't know hi, but you of all people seem to be getting this… Clara is a princess, Emily was a maid, a poor omega, weak and powerless, but most of all, parents are the alpha king and queen, and you think for a minute they would spare your life for making a fool of them? Canceling wedding plans? Oh… you have failed to understand that this is bigger than you and I know. And they would not think twice to cut out anyone who is an obstacle to their daughter, even if it means sitting your mate's throat, or cutting me out of the

I arranged for my mum to be buried in the Royal cemetery but the Queen mother said she wasn’t worthy of it. We argued for a long time but the Alpha supported the Queen mother ideal and my mum was buried in a normal ground, with no respect. They treated her cruelly. I can’t even count how many times I cried that day. He didn’t give her a befitting burial and no one said anything,the whole pack was quiet. “Or could it be that my mum cheated on the Alpha ,that I wasn’t really his kid?” I thought. I snapped out of that thought.

It was a woman with hair like starlight and eyes like the North-Point Lighthouse. The Buried Queen. My grandmother. The real one. Old-Cian stopped writing. For the first time, the white light in his eyes flickered. The silver text on the sea changed. It became jagged, shaky. "She... she was deleted. She was the reason I started the Revision. She was the 'Error' that broke the North." "No," the Buried Queen said, her voice sounding like the chime of a thousand crystal bells. She stepped out of the light and onto the obsidian sea. "I wasn't an error, Cian. I was the Sequel."

asked the queen. “All of you are! I mean you have been walking on Mzukisi every day yet you don’t know.” She continued to laugh. “Where is he?” asked Zasembo one more time. “Buried at the palace gates.” Answered the queen mother and there was silence.

I am utterly in awe of the beautiful creature in front of me. “Our mate.” Rohan mutters dreamily. “Our queen.” I agree.

she replies. The Queen watches her in the mirror, her expression thoughtful but proud. “You will be ready when the time comes,” she says calmly. Outside, the footsteps return. Closer this time. Heavier. Not hurried in joy, but driven by urgency. A murmur rises in the corridor. Low voices. Sharp whispers. Still, inside the chamber, no one pays attention. “Bring the jewels,” the Queen orders. A servant rushes forward with a small carved box, placing it carefully on the nearby table. The lid opens to reveal rows of glittering pieces, gold and gemstones catching the morning light.

The place felt like it had been asleep for centuries. “Are you sure it’s here?” I asked. Killian held a torn scroll in his hand. “My mother once brought me here when I was a child. She said something powerful was buried beneath the queen’s statue.” I looked around. Dust floated in the air. “What statue?” Killian pointed to a corner, where a tall, broken figure stood. The face was cracked, but the crown on her head was still clear. “The First Crimson Queen,” he said. We walked to the statue. My hands touched the stone.