"Kneel, Serah!"
"No! I won't! You want me to kneel for them to drink my blood? Never!" My voice cracked across the hall, echoing back at me. "I've knelt enough! I've bled enough! I'm not some toy for the Council to laugh at!"
Gasps rippled through the chamber and the Council lords leaned forward, their goblets frozen halfway to their mouths and Lydia smiled as though I'd handed her a crown.
"There you have it," she purred, turning toward Jethro. "Your discarded wife defies the Council in your own hall! What will you do, my king? Allow her rebellion?"
Jethro's gaze burned holes through me as he descended the steps of his throne slowly, each movement precise, predatory. "Serah, kneel."
I shook my head, hair clinging to my damp cheeks. "You can command the world, Jethro, but not me! I have had enough."
Tristan's eyes widened from where he stood restrained by guards. "Serah, stop—"
"Why should I?" I snapped, pointing a trembling finger at Lydia. "She's the one who should be kneeling, not me! She stole everything from me! my place, my family, my dignity… and even have me to be calling her my lady, enough of all these!!"
Lydia's laughter filled the hall. "And yet here you are, chained, swollen, and pathetic. Tell me, Serah, who really looks like the queen?"
"You're no queen," I spat.
The Council stirred, enjoying every drop of venom between us their fangs gleamed, and their hunger mounting.
One elder leaned forward. "Let her tongue wag, Jethro. Insolence makes the blood sweeter."
Another chuckled darkly. "Pregnant or not, I'd drain her and the child's power because she lacks manners!"
I clutched my belly, heart racing and my baby shifted, as if restless under the storm of voices.
"Silence them!" I shouted suddenly, voice shrill. "You're supposed to protect me, Jethro! This is your child they mock!"
The hall fell still even the flames seemed to dim.
Jethro's face hardened. "You dare command me?"
"Yes!" My chest heaved. "If you were any kind of husband, you would have stopped this humiliation long ago!"
Tristan struggled against the guards, his voice sharp. "Serah, you're provoking him…"
"I don't care!" I snapped back. "Let them all hear it! Jethro, you've treated me worse than a maid, worse than dirt, and yet I carry your heir! Does that mean nothing? Even if you hated me, must it be extended to the child?"
The Council roared with excitement. Bloodlust shimmered in their eyes and Lydia clapped like it was theater, her laughter ringing.
"Oh, Serah," she cooed, stepping close enough that I smelled the blood still drying on her lip from Tristan's strike. "Your words betray you. Look how passionately you speak for Tristan… and how bitterly you spit at Jethro. Tell me, whose child do you really carry?"
My stomach dropped as I scoff. "How dare you…!"
The hall erupted again. Whispers hissed:
"Could it be Tristan's child?"
"You mean the outcast?"
"Her belly swells with a forbidden heir?"
"No!" I shouted, chest burning. "This is Jethro's child!"
"Liar," Lydia sneered, turning to the Council. "She protects Tristan because he is hers and she disgraces our king with her betrayal, you'll see that right?"
"That's enough!" Tristan snarled, breaking one guard's grip. He stepped forward, fury in every line of his body. "You twist her words, you venomous snake."
"Careful, outcast," Lydia hissed, eyes gleaming. "Hit me again, and the Council will tear you limb from limb. Perhaps Serah would like to lick your blood from the floor this time."
"Lydia!" I screamed, lunging against my chain. My ankle burned where iron cut my flesh. "Leave him alone! If you lay a hand on him…"
My words cut my throat as soon as I heard them. The Council froze, then exploded into howls.
"She defends him!"
"She admits it!"
"They're having affair!"
Jethro's aura slammed into me, suffocating. His crimson eyes glowed like fire. "You dare?"
I shook my head frantically. "No, Jethro, no! I didn't mean— I only wanted—"
"To save him," Lydia finished sweetly. "Always save him."
Jethro turned slowly toward Tristan. His voice was low, dangerous. "You strike my queen and seduce my wife. You corrupt what is mine. Tell me, Tristan, why I shouldn't rip your heart from your chest."
"Because you'd lose more than you gain," Tristan spat, gold eyes burning. "And because deep down, you know she's still yours. No matter how you break her, she belongs to you."
I gasped. "Tristan—"
The guards forced him back and one slashed his arm with a silver blade. Blood welled instantly, the scent flooding the hall.
The Council hissed, fangs flashing and one lunged forward, but Jethro's power snapped like a whip, freezing them in place.
"Enough," he growled.
My gaze locked on the droplets of Tristan's blood spattering across the marble. My throat burned and my fangs ached. The hunger gnawed so sharp I swayed.
I wanted it the blood in my mouth, gods help me, I wanted to taste him.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching my belly. "No… I won't."
Lydia tilted her head, watching with cruel delight. "Look at her, Jethro, she's trembling for his blood. She can't hide it even now, she craves him more than you."
"That's not true!" I shouted, but the words sounded hollow, weak which makes Jethro's eyes narrowed and suspicious.
I forced myself forward, dragging the chain, collapsing at his feet. "Jethro, please… believe me, thi is your child, I am still yours."
Jethro looked down at me, jaw tight, hands curled into fists as the Council waited, restless, Lydia smirked and Tristan bled. My child kicked inside me.
Finally, Jethro spoke, his voice colder than death.
"Then prove it because whatever fate awaits Tristan… you will share it."
The hall erupted in roars and the guards dragged Tristan toward the center. My chain yanked tight as I was pulled beside him and as the Council bared their fangs, bloodlust shimmering like fire in their eyes, I realized my reckless words had damned me.