His Queen To Claim (Book Two)✔️

30. Chapter Thirty.

Epilogue.

King Liam's Pov

Two months later.

Frozen in a state of numbing paralysis, I found myself immobilized, a captive to an indescribable weight that held me in its suffocating grip.

Silence enveloped me, a haunting symphony of stillness, broken only by the ominous creaking of a door, swinging open and then abruptly shutting, as if sealing my fate within its echoing confines.

Suddenly, a voice pierced the quietude, resonating with a chilling familiarity that sent shivers cascading down my spine. It was the voice of my beloved wife, her tone laced with a sinister edge, each word dripping with malice.

"There you are," she declared with an unsettling certainty, her footsteps drawing nearer, a calculated cadence growing louder with each passing moment.

In that harrowing instant, suddenly all my memories came back to me like a bolt of lightning illuminating the darkest corners of my consciousness.

My wife, the one sitting right next to me, the one who I had trusted implicitly, had masterminded a sinister plot, a meticulously orchestrated scheme to eliminate me, paving her path to ascend the throne and secure her position as the unchallenged ruler.

Her laughter shattered any remaining illusions of safety. It sent a chill through my veins, as vivid memories of recent events surged through my mind, replaying themselves like a sinister montage.

As the events replayed, I could feel the tendrils of fear winding tighter around my heart, threatening to squeeze the life out of me.

The depth of her deception, the audacity of her plan, it all became painfully clear. The trust I had once held sacred now lay shattered, leaving only a bitter residue of betrayal in its wake.

In this moment of paralyzing revelation, I became acutely aware of the precariousness of my existence. The world that once seemed familiar and secure now felt like a treacherous labyrinth, with my wife, the very embodiment of danger, lurking in its darkest recesses.

"I think I've given you more than enough time to ensure that your death appears entirely innocent," she taunted.

The sound of her sinister laughter echoed through the room, causing a chill to crawl up my spine. Memories of recent events flooded my mind, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal I had suffered.

It was a devastating blow when my maid confessed her wicked ways, admitting to the unspeakable harm she had inflicted upon my daughter.

I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of shame and failure as a father. I had let Layla down, unable to protect her from the clutches of evil.

My horrid wife continued to unveil her twisted plan. "Once you're out of the picture, I'll eliminate your daughter as well. That way, my own child will be the only princess," she hissed, her words laced with venom. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

Layla, my own flesh and blood, possessed the same royal bloodline as me. She was destined to be a leader, revered by our people. The maid, lacking any royal lineage, sought to remove Layla from the equation, believing that her own child would then rise unopposed.

Her whispers, filled with darkness and malice, resonated in my ears. The notion of Layla's life being in such grave danger stirred an intense surge of protectiveness within me.

I refused to let this evil plot succeed. The love I held for my daughter burned brightly, fueling my determination to defy the odds and shield her from harm.