CHAPTER 104: FAKE MARRIAGE 3

I knew she recognized me. My illusionary disguise, the small horns and the crimson eyebrows, it was a flimsy, superficial thing against the sharp, intelligent gaze of a monarch like her. She hadn’t done anything yet, hadn’t called me out or summoned her guards, so for now, she didn’t pose a threat. But I knew, with a chilling certainty, that she would attend this sham of a wedding. The marriage of the Knight Commander’s son was a political event of the highest order, one that even a Queen could not ignore. And that was why I had come up with this desperate, reckless plan. She was my ace in the hole, the single, unpredictable variable in a game that was stacked against me.

The low, murmuring discussion of the assembled nobles came to a halt as the wedding ceremony officially began. A high priest, his face a mask of serene, pious authority, stepped onto the grand, obsidian altar. He called upon the groom, and Leon, the Knight Commander’s son, a man whose arrogance was matched only by his cruelty, strode forward, flanked by a retinue of his own personal guards. He was a handsome man, in a cold, brutal sort of way, his own draconic features a testament to his powerful, and very pure, bloodline.

Then, the pope called upon the bride. I looked around, my own heart a heavy, reluctant drum in my chest. And then I saw her. She was making her way toward the stage, her movements slow, deliberate, as if she were walking to her own execution. She reached the altar, and Leon, his own face a mask of possessive, triumphant glee, grabbed her hand. "You look beautiful today, my dear," he said, his voice a low, proprietary purr.

Leon’s wife, a pale, beautiful woman with the sad, empty eyes of a caged bird, watched from the front row, her own face a mask of shame and a quiet, desperate sorrow.

The high priest began the ceremony, his voice a monotonous drone as he recited the ancient, binding vows of the Dragon Kingdom. I stood from my seat, my own movements a silent, deliberate counterpoint to the sacred, hollow ritual unfolding before me, and made my way toward the Queen.

All eyes were on me. I could feel their stares, a physical weight on my back. Even Christina, who had been staring at the floor, her own face a mask of pale, grim resignation, looked up, a flicker of something that might have been hope in her sky-blue eyes.

I stopped before the Queen’s throne and offered a slight, respectful bow. "Your Majesty," I said, my voice a low, quiet murmur that was for her alone.

"Ashen Crimson," she replied, her own voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "You are either very brave, or very foolish, to approach me so openly."

"I have a proposal," I said, my voice a low, urgent murmur. "Or a trade, you could say."

She, who had been leaning back in her chair, a look of bored indifference on her face, was suddenly attentive. "Go on," she said, her crimson eyes sharp and focused. "I’m listening."

"We can’t talk about it here," I said, my gaze flickering to the guards who stood a few feet away. "And I don’t have much time. So we need to make this quick."

"As you can see," she said, a note of amusement in her voice, "I am currently attending a wedding. If I leave suddenly, it will be seen as a grave insult to the Knight Commander."

I leaned in, my own voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Even if I tell you the truth about your parents’ death?"

There was a moment of profound, absolute silence. Her amusement vanished, replaced by a cold, hard shock that was quickly followed by a new, more dangerous emotion. Anger.

"If you are lying to me," she said, her voice a low, dangerous growl that was filled with a barely suppressed, volcanic fury, "I will kill you with my own hands."

"Enough of the explanations and the oath-taking," I said, my own voice a low, urgent murmur. "Just make it private."

She stood from her seat, her own face a mask of cold, regal fury, and said, her voice ringing with a clear, commanding authority, "Follow me."

I followed her into a small, secluded antechamber, the heavy, sound-proofed door closing behind us with a soft, final thud. The room was simple, its walls carved from the same dark, volcanic stone as the rest of the cathedral. A single, glowing firecrystal cast a warm, golden light on the two of us, a silent, unwilling witness to the dangerous, and potentially fatal, conversation that was about to unfold.

"Begin," she said, her voice a low, commanding whisper. "How much do you know? And how did you know it? And what, exactly, do you want in return for this... information?"

"Just hold on," I said, my own voice a low, steadying murmur. "You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be." I looked at her then, my own gaze unwavering. "Yes, I know who killed your father. And I also know that you are their next target."

She clenched her fists, her knuckles white. "What are you saying?"

"Let me complete my explanation," I said, my own voice a low, urgent murmur. "But before I do, let me take a mana oath."

A mana oath was a sacred, and very dangerous, thing. It was a ritual that bound a person’s soul to their mana, a binding that could be seen and felt by anyone with even a rudimentary magical sensitivity. And if the person who had sworn the oath were to lie, their own soul would break the bond, leaving them a manaless, broken shell of a person for the rest of their days. It was the ultimate lie detector, a tool that was used only in the most dire of circumstances.

I began the ritual, my hands moving in a slow, deliberate dance as I drew upon the raw, untamed power of my own mana, weaving it into a complex, binding spell around my own soul.

"I, Ashen Crimson," I said, my own voice a low, resonant thing that seemed to echo in the small, silent chamber, "do solemnly swear upon my soul and my mana, that for the next hour, every word I speak to you, Queen Lilith of the Dragon Kingdom, will be the absolute, unadulterated truth."

A brilliant, golden light, the physical manifestation of the oath, enveloped my body for a moment, and then settled, a faint, shimmering aura that was visible even to the naked eye.

"Now," I said, my own voice a low, serious murmur as I met her gaze. "Let’s start from the beginning."