Deadly Wicked

9 | the truth

"Valen Nox, explain this," a stern voice from a child speared through Mavyn's pounding head as her world flickered back to life. "Did you forget the only law you must follow? The Living must not enter our realm!"

A groan escaped her lips as her hand clutched her forehead. The fire had calmed into a banal warmth. Through the weight dragging her eyelids down, she registered Valen's frame shielding her from the throne's vantage and how his hands settled on her shoulders with such certainty. Her chair had skittered meters away from the rim of the table, and all eyes speared through her. It took her a moment that Valen's Death Matter protection was gone, reverting her elaborate clothing to the muddy and clumpy mourning dress she wore upon arriving.

Valen's hand snaked around her nape, his forehead pressing against hers once more. I'll handle this, he said. Stay silent until I say so. The poison is neutralized, but you are still healing.

Before she could say anything, Valen whipped towards the Monarch who sat on the edge of her throne. Her red eyes glinted like rubies activated by the blood moon. Her fist clenched atop the flat armrest. "I have not, Mother," Valen answered. "But this is the only way for me to convince you to see reason."

Mavyn pieced the information from there. Someone poisoned her drink, and when she was dying, Valen saved her. She sank into herself, analyzing the strands of Death Matter curling around her own magic. They haven't reached her soul, which would boot her out of the Living World, but they flowed through her veins, pulsating under her skin. A Living witch, bearing Death Matter in her system. This was turning more interesting by the second.

But in the process, Valen revealed the truth to their arrangement. Everyone was now aware that she was a fake wife, and she was not of their realm. If not for him, the Monarch would have incinerated Mavyn on the spot. But if not for him, she would have died anyway with such a sweet death coursing through her body.

"See reason?" the Monarch answered. "Are you certain it is I who needs it? Consorting with the Living, bringing danger to our doors—have you lost your mind?"

Valen slammed a hand on the table, making even Prisca jump. "I may be, but this is the only way I can bring to light what has been happening from the shadows," he said, his voice rising a pitch. It was the closest to being human he got. "Someone from our world is tainting your essence, Mother. It wasn't just an illness. It is a slow death an errant soul bestowed upon you."

"We have talked about this, Valen." Roassa shot from her seat and faced her brother. "Is that why you had the mortal ask me about Mother's health?"

Not wife; just mortal. How quickly the Kathari moved forward.

"The only thing that could kill a Kathari is a relic of the Living," Valen said, training his full attention towards the Monarch. Two passive faces with cosmic anger threatening to break through were interesting to watch. "And only a Living soul can discover it."