‎📖 Bound by Fate, Tied by Love
‎🌹 Chapter 34: The Serpent's Shadow
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‎The morning fog lay thick over House Valemont, curling around towers and ramparts like a living thing. Adrian stood on the outer walls, arms folded, eyes scanning the valley below. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on him—Harrington's betrayal, the narrow escape from internal treachery, the whispers that still threaded through his halls. The serpent was not gone; it had only retreated to wait.
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‎Isabella joined him silently, her cloak damp with dew. Her presence was steady, grounding, yet the worry in her eyes mirrored his own.
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‎"They will test us again," she said softly. "Every day until Chloe strikes—or until the serpents are gone."
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‎Adrian's jaw tightened. "I've rooted out one. But the others… I feel them watching, waiting. They slip between shadows, smiling while we bleed ourselves dry defending against the obvious."
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‎Isabella nodded. "Then we need to anticipate them, Adrian. Not just defend, but draw them out. Fear can be a weapon—use it against them, not just for them."
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‎He studied her, gratitude mingling with exhaustion. "And you? You've seen the halls, the whispers, the hesitation. Do you believe we can hold Valemont together?"
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‎She placed her hand on his arm. "We have to. Because if we fall, no one else will. Not Chloe. Not anyone."
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‎By midday, Adrian convened a smaller council, summoning only those he trusted most: loyal captains, the healers who had tended the wounded tirelessly, and a few carefully chosen lords who had proven steadfast. The great hall felt smaller now, the silence heavier. Each face held the weight of recent losses, but none dared meet Adrian's storm-gray gaze without the shadow of fear lingering behind their eyes.
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‎"Chloe moves quickly," Adrian began, voice low but commanding. "Her armies have momentum. But her true danger is the serpents among us. Harrington is one. There may be others. We will find them."
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‎Captain Rourke's replacement, Captain Malik, leaned forward. "Prince, we can set traps, monitor lords' movements, intercept messages. But unless you make them believe you see every shadow, some may slip through."
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‎Adrian nodded, thinking of Harrington's smirk, the arrogance that had almost undone them. "We make them see. We give them no room to hide. And if anyone acts against us… they will answer in the open, for all to witness."
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‎Isabella watched silently, impressed by his resolve. Yet even she sensed the strain threading through his tone. The burden of leadership—one life, or one betrayal at a time—was relentless.
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‎That evening, Adrian walked through the corridors of the castle, checking the defenses himself. Guards had been doubled in every tower, every hallway, and yet a chill ran down his spine as he passed the council chambers. Harrington remained imprisoned there, quiet, though his eyes glimmered with defiance rather than fear.
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‎"You should not walk these halls alone, Adrian," Isabella warned, stepping close. "There are still those who wait for a misstep."
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‎He gave a faint smile, almost bitter. "The serpents never sleep. Neither can I."
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‎They passed the armory together, where weapons were being inspected, polished, and readied for battle. Adrian's eyes lingered on a set of Rourke's twin swords, their edges still sharp, their leather worn by years of loyal service. He remembered the man's laughter, the way he had charged into danger without a second thought. A pang of grief struck him, but he swallowed it down. Loss was a luxury he could not afford.
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‎Night descended quickly, swallowing the castle in shadows. The guards moved like silent shadows themselves, and Adrian and Isabella took to the ramparts again, watching. The valley below was dark, yet movement could be sensed, patterns felt in the silence. A rustle in the trees. A glimmer of steel reflecting moonlight. A whisper carried on the wind, meant for ears not theirs.
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‎"Do you feel it?" Isabella asked, her voice barely above the night air. "Something… watching?"
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‎Adrian nodded, eyes narrowing. "The serpent stirs. I can feel it. And it's bold enough to move while we watch."
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‎A sudden shout came from the outer gate. Lights flared as guards rushed to intercept a messenger, his cloak torn, breathless. Adrian met him at the gate.
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‎"Report!" he demanded.
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‎"Prince… scouts spotted a group approaching the eastern woods. They carried no banners… but they wore Valemont colors."
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‎Adrian's hands tightened into fists. "Inside men," he muttered. "They seek to divide us before Chloe attacks. Prepare the eastern flank. Quietly. No alarms yet."
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‎Isabella's hand found his. "Be careful, Adrian. You cannot protect everyone at once."
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‎"I know," he said, voice grim. "But I will try. Always."
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‎Hours passed in tense preparation. The eastern flank was reinforced, silent traps laid, scouts in hiding, waiting for the traitors to reveal themselves. Adrian moved among them, silent, cold, and precise. The first shadow moved—a figure in a Valemont cloak, slipping through the trees, confident, unaware of the eyes watching.
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‎Adrian stepped from the darkness, sword drawn, and the figure froze. A second shadow followed, then a third. Within moments, four men-at-arms, loyal or not, were disarmed and held at swordpoint.
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‎"Why?" Adrian's voice was sharp. "Why betray your own house?"
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‎The first man spoke, voice quivering. "We… we serve those who win. We serve Chloe if she comes first. Your Prince… he… he cannot protect us all."
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‎Adrian's jaw tightened. "And yet, loyalty is not measured by fear." His blade rested at their throats. "Swear now, or be remembered for your cowardice."
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‎One by one, they knelt, promises extracted, faces pale in the moonlight. It was a minor victory, but a message to the remaining serpents: Adrian Valemont sees all.
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‎Inside the castle, Harrington remained a silent puzzle. His arrogance was intact, but Adrian did not trust it. He spent hours questioning him, listening to the calculated words, the half-truths and insinuations. And through it all, Harrington's warning lingered: other serpents remain.
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‎Even as dawn approached, Adrian could not rest. Isabella sat beside him, exhausted yet vigilant.
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‎"They will come," she said softly. "More than tonight. But we are ready."
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‎Adrian's eyes closed briefly. "I hope so, Isabella. For Valemont's sake, I hope so."
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‎By morning, the castle stirred. Rumors of the captured traitors had spread, whispers of Adrian's vigilance tempering fear with awe. Yet the shadow of Chloe's approach loomed ever closer. Adrian knew that even with internal threats diminished, the battle ahead would test every ounce of their resolve.
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‎He stepped onto the balcony, Isabella at his side, and looked out at the valley. Mist rose like smoke from a burning pyre. Somewhere in that haze, Chloe moved. And somewhere else… another serpent waited.
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‎Adrian's grip tightened on the balcony railing. "We will meet them both," he said. "And when the time comes… Valemont will not fall from within, nor from without."
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‎Isabella placed a hand over his. "Together," she whispered.
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‎"Together," he echoed, eyes scanning the horizon, heart steeling for the storm ahead.
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