Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 98

Adelaide

"Your Majesty! Forgive the interruption, but there's been a serious incident at the border. Your immediate attention is required."

The guard's urgent words through the heavy door sent ice through my veins. Lycanthar and I exchanged a single, loaded glance—both understanding that whatever peace we'd been discussing had just become infinitely more complicated.

"Enter," Lycanthar commanded, his voice carrying the unmistakable authority of a king, though his protective grip on my shoulders never wavered.

A guard burst through the door, his face flushed from running and streaked with what looked like dried blood. He dropped to one knee immediately, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Your Majesty, forgive the intrusion, but there's been a massacre at the border. Three human villages... they're gone."

The blood drained from my face. I felt Lycanthar's grip tighten almost imperceptibly, but his expression remained controlled.

"Report," Lycanthar said, his voice deadly calm.

"The three villages were attacked during the night. The scene... it's covered in werewolf claw marks and bite wounds." The guard swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he spoke. "A few survivors have fled toward Eldoria Kingdom's border posts. Word is already spreading—they're telling everyone that the werewolves have declared war on humanity."

My stomach clenched with dread. "How many dead?" I whispered, though I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"Sixty-seven confirmed, my lady. Men, women, children... all of them torn apart," the guard's voice cracked.

The crown suddenly felt like it was burning against my scalp. My hands flew to Lycanthar's, seeking anchor in the storm of implications swirling through my mind.

"Summon Draven, Garrick, and Vespera immediately," Lycanthar ordered. "Tell them to meet me in the council chamber within the hour. And send word to all border patrols—no one enters or leaves our territory without my express permission."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The guard bowed again and hurried from the room.

The silence that followed was deafening. Lycanthar turned to face me fully, his hands cupping my face as his eyes searched mine.

"Adelaide," he said quietly, "I need you to understand something. I did not order these attacks. I would never authorize the slaughter of innocents, human or otherwise."

"I know," I said immediately, covering his hands with mine. "I know you didn't. But Lycanthar, if humans believe you did..."

"Then we may be facing a war whether we want one or not." His jaw clenched. "The question is whether someone orchestrated this to force exactly that outcome."

A chill ran down my spine. "You think this was planned?"

"Three villages, attacked simultaneously, with evidence pointing directly at us? Yes, I think this was very much planned." He stepped back, his expression hardening into the mask of the Wolf King. "The question is by whom."

He moved toward the door, then paused and looked back at me. "Stay here, Adelaide. I need to handle this council session, and..." He hesitated. "If this situation escalates, I need to know you're safe."

"But I could help—"

"You've already helped more than you know," he said softly. "Your perspective on humans could be valuable, but right now, I need to deal with my commanders as their king. Some of the things that might be said... it's better if you're not there."

I nodded reluctantly, understanding the delicate political balance he needed to maintain. As he left, closing the door firmly behind him, I sank into the chair by the window, the ancestral crown heavy in my hands. Whatever was happening at the border, I feared it was only the beginning.

---

Lycanthar

The council chamber felt smaller than usual as I strode through its doors alone. The great stone table dominated the room, its surface already covered with hastily drawn maps marking the destroyed villages. The scent of tension and barely controlled anger hung heavy in the air.

Draven stood near the eastern wall, his expression grim as he studied intelligence reports. Garrick paced near the windows, his movements restless and agitated—though something about his anger felt theatrical, as if he were performing for an audience. Vespera sat quietly in his chair, but I could see the worry lines etched deep around his eyes. Several tribal elders had also gathered, their faces reflecting various degrees of shock and concern.

I took my place at the head of the table, the weight of leadership settling on my shoulders like a familiar burden.

"Report," I commanded, my voice cutting through the murmured conversations.

Draven stepped forward, a scroll clutched in his hand. "Three human settlements were attacked between midnight and dawn. Greymill, Thornwick, and Riverside—all border communities with populations between twenty and thirty souls each. The attacks were swift, brutal, and coordinated."

"Coordinated how?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.

"All three villages were hit within a two-hour window. The attack patterns are identical—initial strikes at the watchposts, then systematic killing from house to house. No attempt at capture or taking slaves. Pure extermination."

Garrick slammed his fist on the table with excessive force, making several of the elders jump. "Finally! The humans have given us the perfect excuse to finish what they started three hundred years ago!" His voice carried a triumphant note that struck me as oddly inappropriate for the situation. "Let them taste the same medicine they fed us when they allied with those blood-sucking parasites!"

"Garrick," I said sharply, studying his face carefully, "I did not order these attacks. Did you?"

Garrick's expression shifted through what looked like carefully rehearsed surprise. "No, Your Majesty, of course not. But perhaps some of our younger warriors finally grew tired of your... restraint regarding the humans." There was something calculated in his tone, as if he were testing the waters.

Vespera leaned forward, his voice soft but carrying clearly through the chamber. "There's something else troubling about this. These villages have been relatively peaceful toward us for months. They've even traded surplus grain for some of our crafted goods. Why would they suddenly become targets?"

Elder Grimjaw, the oldest of the tribal representatives, raised his gnarled hand. "In my five hundred years, I've seen humans attempt many tricks. But slaughtering their own children to frame us? Even they aren't that desperate."

"Because someone wants to provoke us into a war," I said, the pieces clicking together in my mind. "The question is who has both the capability to orchestrate such an attack and the motivation to see our peoples destroying each other."

My gaze shifted to Garrick. His arrogance, so blatant in a time of crisis, felt like a declaration in itself. This entire provocation... it reeked of his particular brand of ambition.

I stood, placing both hands flat on the table as I addressed the assembled leaders. "Draven, take a full investigative team to the attack sites. I want to know everything—scent trails, weapon marks, timing, everything. Look for anything that doesn't fit the pattern of a werewolf assault."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Draven replied.

I turned to Garrick, holding his gaze steadily. "Garrick, since you're so eager for action, you'll strengthen all fortress defenses. If this is a trap designed to draw us into conflict, we need to be ready for whatever comes next."

"And our response to the humans?" Garrick pressed, his voice carrying an edge of frustration. "They'll be organizing militias, sending word to their allies. Every moment we hesitate makes us look weak!"

"We do nothing that could be construed as escalation," I said firmly. "But we also don't allow ourselves to be caught unprepared. Vespera, I need you to coordinate with all pack leaders. Full readiness, but no aggressive actions without my direct authorization."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Vespera replied.

When the council session finally ended and the various leaders dispersed to their duties, I remained at the table alone. Outside, storm clouds were gathering on the horizon. Whatever enemy we faced, they had just declared war not with armies, but with innocent blood and calculated deception.

And I was beginning to suspect that enemy might be closer than I'd ever imagined.