Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 148

The Queen in the Flesh

While the real Miexha journeyed across worlds with Damian—searching for the scattered soul fragments of Liana—her body on Earth was not left hollow.

Inside her fragile vessel now resided the Queen of the Zenips: the Mother of All, the keeper of the curse, and the ancient being who once ruled the entire Zenips race.

To keep Miexha’s body alive, the Queen had to inhabit it fully—living, breathing, walking in her stead. Without her, the body would wither and die. So, the Queen wore her granddaughter’s flesh like a disguise.

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Whispers spread through Wayne Academy.

The once-timid girl who used to tremble under cruel laughter had changed.
The weak, stuttering Miexha Verra now moved with an elegance that silenced entire corridors.
Her eyes—cold, steady, ancient—cut through the air like glass.

Those who once bullied her now avoided even her shadow.

Section 6 no longer treated her as one of their own. They served her.
Miguel and Lorie, her classmates, had somehow become her quiet attendants—preparing her notes, arranging her seat, and even bringing her lunch.
No one dared to ask how or why.

The engagement talks with the Sebastians continued as if nothing had changed—but Miexha ignored them.
When Thyron Sebastian confronted her one afternoon, she looked at him with calm disgust.

“I despise your presence,” she said, her tone almost kind—but her words carried venom that froze him in place.
“Stay away from me.”

Thyron tried to argue, but the sunlight caught her eyes—revealing a faint green glow.
Something ancient stirred within that gaze, and even a Sebastian prince took a step back.

Sarah said nothing.
She only told the Sebastians, “Give her time.”

Only Sarah knew the truth: that the soul inside her daughter’s body wasn’t her daughter’s.
But she stayed silent. She trusted her mother—the Queen—to protect the vessel until the true Miexha returned.

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Months passed.

To most people, Miexha seemed cold but harmless. Yet to those closest to her—Zatariel, Asha, and Jayson—she was… different.

She called them child.

The first time she did, Asha almost snapped. But one look into those unblinking green eyes silenced her.
Somehow, being called child by someone younger didn’t feel wrong. It felt like a truth she wasn’t supposed to question.

The Queen—still wearing Miexha’s face—had a strange fondness for Zatariel. She would summon him during class without reason, whisper his name like a prayer, or gently brush his hair and murmur,

“You never change… still my beloved.”

Zatariel would turn bright red, stammering and running off—completely unaware that the one calling him “beloved” had lived for millennia.

But she never truly touched him. There was always a barrier between them, an invisible wall of power that kept anyone from coming too close.

Jayson noticed it all—the faint glow in her eyes, the cold aura, the absence of warmth.
Deep inside, he knew:

That wasn’t Miexha.

He wanted to ask who—or what—was inside her, but every time he opened his mouth, an unseen force silenced him. Something  warning him not to interfere.