Enslaved by My Forgotten Wife

Chapter 13: White Vial

[Eryk Goatsbane's POV]

I trudged through the winding corridors of the Kythera castle, Sister Amara's soft footsteps echoing beside mine.

We were on our way to meet with Xanna to update her on our frustratingly fruitless efforts to track down Saber. The thought of facing her again, seeing the desperation and fury in those unsettling grey eyes, made my stomach churn.

As we approached Xanna's office, the sound of raised voices caught my attention. I held up a hand, signaling Amara to stop. She cocked her head, listening intently.

"...enough is enough!" The deep, resonant voice of the Archbishop filled the air, his words sharp with frustration. "You've put enough effort into looking for Saber. Do you forget your true cause, hero?"

I exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Amara. We both knew we shouldn't be listening, but curiosity rooted us to the spot.

"You don't even need him anymore," the Archbishop continued, his voice lowering to a harsh whisper. "His purpose was served."

My blood ran cold at those words. What in the hells did that mean? I leaned closer to the heavy oak door, straining to hear Xanna's response.

"You don't understand," Xanna's voice was barely audible, trembling with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "I need him. He's... he's everything."

The Archbishop let out a heavy sigh. "My child, you are the prophesied hero. The fate of our world rests on your shoulders. We cannot afford to waste any more resources on this... distraction."

The Archbishop's voice hardened his words, cutting through the air like a blade. "It was your idea, Xanna. Your plan to treat your own husband like cattle. You even wear that cursed wedding ring you took from him to make it easier for your retainer to milk him dry."

The sound of a fist slamming against wood echoed through the door. "I did what I had to do!" Xanna screamed, her voice raw with anguish and rage. "You don't understand! None of you understand!"

"Child, calm yourself," the Archbishop's tone softened slightly. "The church does not think what you did to your husband was wrong. We understand the necessity of your actions."

The Archbishop's voice took on a soothing tone, like a parent comforting a distraught child. "My dear, please understand. The storerooms beneath the castle are brimming with Saber's... contribution. Vials upon vials of golden and white liquids, each one thrumming with raw magical potential. It's more than enough to fuel our assault on the demon queen's army."

I felt my jaw drop, my mind reeling at the implications. Beside me, Amara's face had gone pale.

There was a moment of heavy silence before he spoke again, his voice softer now. "Once the demon queen is found and defeated, you can refocus all our resources on finding Saber. But for now, we must prioritize the greater good. Surely you can see the wisdom in this?"

The tension in the air was palpable, even through the thick door. When Xanna finally spoke, her voice was low and dangerous, barely more than a whisper.

"Over. My. Dead. Body."

The sound of a chair scraping against stone was followed by a strangled gasp. I exchanged a panicked look with Amara before she burst through the door, me hot on her heels.

The sight that greeted us was shocking. Xanna had the Archbishop pinned against the wall, her slender hands wrapped around his throat. The old man's face was turning an alarming shade of purple, his eyes bulging as he clawed weakly at Xanna's grip.

"Xanna, stop!" Amara cried out, rushing forward.

At the sound of Amara's voice, Xanna seemed to snap out of her rage. She released the Archbishop, who crumpled to the floor, gasping and coughing. Xanna took a step back, her face a mask of cold fury as she glared down at the wheezing priest.