You Sit On A Throne Of Lies 소설 & 이야기

" They all went quiet at my question. Their eyes told me everything, there was no shock there, just regret. Leaning on the table, I could not help but laugh. So, it was not just Sebastian who betrayed me. Even the members who went through hell and back with me were in on it. They were only there because they wanted something. If the family business was not on the brink of being gobbled up, they would not be groveling like that. They took turns defending Sebastian, making excuses for him. Sebastian himself was trying to butter me up, all humble and meek.

The car drove slowly toward the bustling, sinful heart of New Haven. It was an empire that belonged entirely to me. I raised my right hand, wearing the ring of power. Looking at my cold reflection in the window, I curved my lips. A man’s love is worthless. Only absolute power never betrays.

He reiterated my exact words defensively. "Do you not realize the implication of that? You've been in mermaid waters before." The only sound now was from Philip. Then I choked. "What?" I was the most curious. I mean, I had to be. I had almost no idea about myself so every little thing I discovered made me feel better. The scales on my back was on the list of things Tiberius and I kept from the council. And trust me, there was more. "You've been in mermaid waters." She repeated. "At some point in your life, you lived or visited mermaid waters so your blood automatically qualifies as antidote since you have a touch of mermaid."

“About himself, of course—the condition surrounding the throne he's sitting on and the blood he shed just to get to the position that he’s now.” For some reason, my chest clenched at his words. “You're lying to me.” “Am I really doing that?” His voice was smoother than it should’ve been, too calm for a liar. He leaned in closer, like someone having a friendly conversation. “You think Kieran is on the throne because he deserved it? That the crown was handed over to him as tradition demands? That it was an inheritance from his father? He shed blood to keep it—not just blood, but blood of his blood.”

"I'm so happy to see you've recovered!" "Really?" she asked without emotion. "Of course, Mother. Which child isn't joyful to see his mother healed?" he repeated, but the words didn't touch The Queen's heart. "You must think I couldn't hear all your swearing and insults while still lying weak." I turned to her, hearing that sentence. "Your prayers failed, Fake Werewolf. You know who you are, yet you live comfortably like a parasite in the palace. "Do you think the King and all his advisors will let you become the next king with your reckless lifestyle?" the Queen taunted. "Being the son of a king does not necessarily make you fit to be a leader. There are many tests of eligibility that you mu

she asked calmly, “will the Moon mend?” No one answered. Because they did not know. That uncertainty fractured their perfection. “You mistake consequence for cause,” Maltheus said at last. “You mistake control for stability,” she replied. A dangerous light entered his ancient eyes. A councilor’s voice slid toward me. “Consider your next words carefully. Your throne exists by our sanction.” Something inside me went utterly still. What is a throne worth… if it demands her life to keep it? The bond roared. Truth. Not possession. Not duty. Truth.

The Decision Year of the Lilies Torrid Season The throne room Altsas King Tus III I SIT COMFORTABLY on my throne made of polished gold and adorned with precious stones but my heart is disturbed. I haven't slept well in the past few nights and I haven't eaten properly either. How can I be happy when something threatens the very stability of my household?

The throne showed him not glory but ruin, not strength but the memory of betrayal carried forward as tradition. His voice broke but did not falter. “If I wear this crown, I carry not only the burden of power but the weight of every lie they called truth. If I sit, I am heir to chains, if I rise, I am heir to fire. Either way, I am bound.”

“What?” The Alpha’s maw curled back, exposing teeth like jagged moonlight. “The throne you sit upon was never yours. Never theirs. It was ours—caged, stolen, and forged from our bones. The Shadow Rulers were cowards who bound us to feed their hunger. And now you dare wear their crown.” The words hit like a blow. Serena’s chest tightened, her hands trembling as the truth cracked open beneath her. The throne wasn’t her inheritance. It wasn’t even her curse. It was a theft.

One of them quickly took off the black cloth concealing the thing they carried. After the cloth was taken off, all came to see that it was a golden throne with statues of two hickory-coloured, standing, pissed wolves serving as armrests. "Boy, that throne is... how do I put it?" Dante excitedly mind linked Zyair. "It's something never brought out on the day of a champion's crowning as Alpha King," the latter responded. Dante nodded with a smile, "Yeah, that's it. Jeez!"