Caspian’s POV
King Osric released a long breath, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the carved armrest of his ornate chair.
“The council of elders will gather within hours,” he stated, his piercing stare fixed on me with calculating intensity.
“Do you wish to attend their session?”
I shifted back in my seat, already prepared with my refusal.
“No,” I responded firmly.
“I must make arrangements for my return to Rainwood at dawn.” My eyes locked with his unwavering gaze.
“However, since you will represent me there, I have words for them to hear.”
Osric’s eyebrow lifted with intrigue.
“Speak your mind.”
“Inform them to cease squandering their efforts on questioning my choice of bride,” I declared with controlled authority.
“My decision stands unshakeable.
Their attention should turn to supervising the Solar Rampart’s construction.
Our people’s protection outweighs any concerns about my marriage.”
A low chuckle escaped Osric’s lips as he shook his head slowly.
“You speak as though you’re teaching them their duties.”
My lips curved into a cold smile.
“Perhaps they require the reminder.”
Osric’s amusement faded into approval as he nodded once.
“Consider your message delivered.”
Content with his agreement, I rose from my chair, straightening my coat with deliberate movements.
“Then I shall depart.”
Osric stood in response, extending a respectful nod.
“May your journey to Rainwood be swift and safe, Alpha Caspian.”
I acknowledged his farewell before turning sharply toward the ornate doors.
Logan stood positioned outside the entrance, hands locked behind his spine in perfect military posture.
Upon seeing me emerge, he snapped to attention.
“All matters resolved?”
“Temporarily,” I replied curtly, already striding past him.
We moved together through the palace corridors, our escort guiding us back to the waiting vehicles.
The journey back to Vanderbilt Estate passed in contemplative silence, only the steady rumble of engines breaking the quiet.
When we finally arrived, twilight was painting the sky in deeper shades.
The moment our convoy came to a halt, the estate’s butler appeared at the grand entrance, positioned with formal precision.
His keen eyes found mine as I exited the vehicle.
“Alpha,” he acknowledged with a practiced bow.
I gave him a brief acknowledgment before he continued, “Your father has requested an audience.”
My brow furrowed slightly.
“Immediately?”
The butler confirmed with a single nod.
“Shall I guide you to him?”
I exhaled through clenched teeth, glancing briefly at Logan before returning my attention to the butler.
“Proceed.”
He led us into the estate’s marble foyer, directing us toward the polished steel elevator.
It carried us smoothly to the third level, where the butler guided us to an elegant balcony lounge overlooking the grounds.
“Beta, please remain here,” the butler instructed Logan with professional courtesy before gesturing for me to continue.
I nodded my understanding and entered the private lounge.
My father occupied a leather armchair, one leg crossed casually over the other, a folded newspaper resting in his grasp.
He didn’t acknowledge my presence immediately.
I approached with measured steps, my voice carrying formal respect.
“Father.”
He took his time folding the newspaper completely before setting it aside, finally raising his eyes to meet mine.
“Caspian.” His tone held calm authority mixed with curiosity.
“Word reached me of King Osric’s summons.”
I selected the chair opposite him, reaching for the crystal pitcher of chilled margarita centered on the glass table and pouring myself a generous serving.
“He required my presence,” I confirmed without elaboration.
My father observed my movements with calculating attention, his next question revealing his deeper interest.
“What business did he have with you?”
I took a measured sip, deliberately omitting any mention of Talia or the council’s concerns.
“We addressed matters concerning the Solar Rampart.” I placed the glass down with controlled precision before settling back.
“The unsolved murders plaguing Rainwood demand immediate attention, and securing Frosthaven becomes critical before the situation deteriorates further.”
I drew a deep breath before adding, “King Osric shares my suspicion that something beyond ordinary criminal activity drives these killings.”
My father’s expression darkened as he exhaled heavily.
“I have entertained similar theories,” he admitted with reluctance.
“Yet I chose to dismiss them.
Historical shadows should remain buried.”
I chose not to pursue that line of discussion.
Too many secrets from previous generations lingered in darkness, subjects my father rarely addressed directly.
Instead, I redirected our conversation toward my strategic plans, explaining how I intended to secure cooperation from Rainwood’s human government in the investigation.
Father listened intently, though his expression remained grave throughout.
“Exercise extreme caution in trusting humans, Caspian.
They possess the cunning to orchestrate such murders while maintaining complete deniability.”
I drained my second glass of margarita, setting it down with a soft crystalline ring before standing.
“I will remember your counsel, father.”
Father rose as well, lifting his own glass.
As I turned toward the exit, his voice halted my departure.
“Will you visit your mother before returning to Rainwood?”
My entire body tensed, jaw muscles tightening involuntarily.
He pressed gently, his tone softening with paternal concern.
“You avoided seeing her during your last visit.
The time has come.”
I stood frozen, weighing the emotional cost.
Facing my mother had never brought anything but pain.
Yet she remained my mother, regardless of everything else.
Finally, I released a slow, controlled breath.
“I will see her now.”
Logan’s surprise was evident when I returned to the living area and announced our destination.
However, he recovered quickly, responding with professional composure.
“Of course, Alpha.”
We descended in the elevator to the first underground level, the temperature dropping noticeably as we traversed the lengthy corridor.
At its end, we turned left and approached a formidable iron door.
Logan knocked twice before stepping back respectfully.
I inhaled deeply, wondering what state I would find my mother in today.
Moments passed before the door’s locks disengaged from within, revealing a middle-aged woman in servant’s attire.
Recognition flashed in her eyes as she immediately stepped aside and bowed deeply.
“Alpha,” she greeted with reverence, then nodded politely toward Logan.
We entered together.
The living space maintained pristine cleanliness and carried the soothing scents of chamomile, fresh mint, and lavender.
Carefully arranged flower bouquets decorated the room, while an ornate incense burner sat prominently on the central table beside one of the vases.
I slipped my hands into my pockets, surveying the familiar space before addressing the servant.
“Is she resting?”
The woman smiled warmly.
“No, Alpha.
She completed her meal recently and is currently in her bedroom.”
My gaze shifted to the closed bedroom door.
Without further words, I walked toward it purposefully.
Logan remained in the living area as I withdrew my hands from my pockets and knocked softly before pushing the door open.
The chamomile fragrance intensified immediately.
My eyes located my mother sitting at her bed’s foot, her back turned toward me.
Her lustrous black hair cascaded down her spine, reaching her narrow waist.
She stared fixedly at the room’s single small window, the only source of natural light in this subterranean space.
It offered merely a limited glimpse of the world above.
I moved forward quietly, stopping directly in front of her position.
She wore a sleeveless floral dress, its delicate fabric flowing gracefully around her ankles.
Her skin appeared pale beyond normal human complexion.
Even Talia, despite her fair coloring, could not match my mother’s ghostly pallor.
She projected an aura of serenity yet complete emptiness simultaneously.
For extended moments, I simply observed her in silence.
Then, finally, I lowered myself to her eye level and spoke.
“Mother.”
Gradually, she turned her head.
Her obsidian eyes met mine, studying my features with detached curiosity.
Then, she smiled.
The expression held gentleness and kindness, yet felt completely disconnected from reality.
When she finally spoke, her voice carried an ethereal, dreamlike quality.
“Who are you?”