Rose
The palace was too quiet.
Not the kind of silence that came from peace, but the suffocating stillness before a storm breaks.
The chamber was heavy with shadows, though a dozen chandeliers burned above our heads. The light wasn't enough to chase away the weight of the room. The air itself felt hostile, pressing against my skin, carrying the smell of too many old families gathered under one roof.
The long obsidian table stretched between us all vipers, ravens, serpents those shameless bastards and some minor houses, and at the head, the masked figure of the Shadowhand leader.
It should have been my hall. The Vipers' Hall. My father's hall. Shaadowhand took it from me as an alliance pact. Now they use it against me.
And tonight, it belonged to someone else. Someone who wanted me small, cornered, stripped of every ounce of claim I had fought to hold.
I took my seat at the head of the table, spine straight, face unreadable. I wore no cloak, no ancient dress this time. Just a fitted black suit that sharpened every line of me, my hair tied back, a single silver pin glinting like a blade. I wanted them to see me for what I was not a relic of the past, but the future they feared. I was Chaos.
Something twisted in my gut, but I buried it. Trust was a luxury I never afforded anyone not fully.
Cassian sat to my right, silent and steady. His presence was a promise, a blade ready to be drawn if I faltered. Across the table, the serpents had slithered their way into seats they didn't deserve. My blood boiled at the sight, but I kept my face calm icy, unreadable.
My eyes scan the room searching until I found him.
Asher
He stood faraway within shadows.
I didn't let my eyes linger for long, I looked away.
Then, the Shadowhand leader rose. His mask gleamed faintly in the light, voice smooth and heavy with false authority. Nobody knew his name, He always wore a mask to cover that face full of lies.
"We are here," he said, "to correct a wrong and set facts straight."
A ripple passed through the room. My spine stiffened, my hand tightening against the armrest of my chair.
And then Adrian appeared. I hissed
He was smug, polished, his smile dripping with satisfaction. He looked like a man already celebrating his victory. My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
I didn't flinch. I let my gaze rest on Adrian's smirk until it faltered just for a second.
The Shadowhand leader lifted a hand, silencing whispers. His words cut through the chamber like a blade.
"Rose Varela is indeed the direct heir of Salvatore Varela the man you called Blood, the former Lord of the Vipers. But her claim is not absolute. Salvatore's rule was not his by birthright. He took the throne from his elder brother. And as we all here know, the blood of the firstborn carries weight."
A murmur rose. The serpents smirked openly. Some of the minor families shifted, uncertain.
The Shadowhand leader's voice carried on, calm and poisonous
"By that truth, the seat never belonged to Rose's father. And by that truth… it should never have been passed to her."
I leaned forward, my voice cold enough to silence the chamber. "What are you saying shadowhand? be careful of what you say" i warned. but my warning fell on deaf ears.
"That the rightful heir still lives. That the firstborn's line has not been erased. That Adrian," he gestured toward the man beside him, "is the son of the elder brother. And by all rights, he is the true Lord of the Vipers."
The room erupted. Some families shouted in protest, others in agreement. The serpents banged their fists on the table, calling out in support. My blood thundered in my ears, but I did not flinch.
I rose slowly, letting silence fall as every gaze turned to me.
"My father did not take power because of birth," I said, my voice sharp, clear. "He took it because he was strong enough to claim it. Power is not inherited, it is earned. And I have earned it with every drop of blood spilled under my reign."
My eyes locked onto Adrian's smug face.
"You call him rightful? Tell me, what has he done to deserve it? Sit in the shadows and whisper like the coward his father was before him? And hide behind another man's mask?"
I continued "You speak of rightful heirs," I said, "yet you forget history. My father may have been the younger brother, but he didn't steal the throne. He earned it. He was more capable, more ruthless, more feared than Adrian's weak father could ever dream to be. Power was never about birth. It was about who had the strength to wield it."
Shadowhand's mask tilted, calm, unshaken. "You speak with pride, but you forget the truth. Your father claimed what was not his. You cling to a stolen legacy."
I laughed, low and sharp, the sound cutting through the noise.
"Stolen? No. Claimed. And I carry that claim now. If you want it back..." I leaned forward, voice dropping into steel, "then take it from me."
The room was silent.
But beneath that silence, rage burned hot and cold in my veins. Because I could already feel it.
The weight of wind before a storm lingering in the air, waiting to strike.
"You say I am not rightful. But tell me when did the Shadowhand clan begin crowning kings? Who gave you the authority to tell the Vipers who should lead them? Was it the Serpents who begged at your feet? Or the minor families who would sell their loyalty to the highest bidder? Or the dog standing beside you" I mocked.
The room erupted again. Some voices shouted in my defense. Others muttered curses under their breath. The line was already drawn.
But inside, something colder than rage settled in me. This wasn't about bloodlines. It was about control. And they thought they could control me by dangling Adrian in front of me like some "rightful heir."
They would learn soon enough.
Why I'm called Chaos.