Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 184

Mordred's POV

With an effort that left me shaking, I forced the beast back down, forced my body to remain human, forced my breathing to slow. When I spoke again, my voice was deadly calm.

"Lord Sebastian. Are you questioning your king?"

He met my gaze without flinching, and I had to admire his courage even as I wanted to kill him. "I'm merely stating facts, Your Majesty. Your absence has thrown the kingdom into chaos. If that's not a matter for concern, I don't know what is."

I could feel every lord's eyes on me, could sense them weighing my response, judging whether I was still strong enough to rule. Sebastian had backed me into a corner—if I admitted he was right, I showed weakness; if I dismissed his concerns, I appeared tyrannical and out of touch.

"Where I go and what I do is not subject to your approval," I said, each word carefully measured. "I am your king, and I will not be questioned like some errant child."

"Then perhaps Your Majesty could enlighten us," Sebastian pressed. "Could you at least tell the council where you were? What was so important that it required two days of complete absence?"

The question hung in the air. I knew that whatever I said next would shape how the lords viewed me. I could tell them the truth. But that would only confirm Sebastian's accusations, would make me look weak and distracted.

Or I could refuse to answer, assert my authority and make it clear that I owed them no explanations. But that would feed into the narrative of a king who'd lost touch with his duties, who cared more for his own pleasures than the welfare of his realm.

In the end, I chose the latter. "This council is dismissed," I said coldly. "All of you, out. Now."

For a moment, no one moved. But then Fergus stood, bowing slightly, and the other lords began to follow suit, filing out with backward glances and whispered conversations.

Sebastian was the last to leave, pausing at the door to look back at me with an expression that was equal parts triumph and contempt. "Your Majesty," he said, the title dripping with mockery, before he turned and walked out.

The door closed with a heavy thud, and I was alone in the great hall, hands still gripping the throne's arms hard enough to leave claw marks in the stone. The confrontation had gone worse than I'd expected. Sebastian had scored a significant victory. The seeds of doubt had been planted in the minds of the lesser lords, and it would take time and effort to root them out.

But even as I contemplated the political damage, my mind kept drifting back to her. To the way she'd felt in my arms, the way she'd looked at me with those trusting eyes, the way my beast had settled in her presence. Whatever was happening between us, it was powerful enough to distract me even now, when I should have been focused entirely on salvaging my authority.

And that, more than anything Sebastian had said, truly frightened me.

--

Private Counsel

"Your Majesty."

Fergus's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to find him standing in the doorway of my private study, expression grave. I'd retreated here after dismissing the council, needing space to think, to plan my next move.

"Come in," I said, gesturing to the chair across from my desk. "And close the door."

He did as I asked, settling into the chair with a heavy sigh. For a long moment, we simply looked at each other, and I could see the worry in his mismatched eyes, the weight of concern he carried for me.

"That was a disaster," he said finally, voice blunt. "Sebastian played you perfectly."

I couldn't argue. "He's been planning this for a while, hasn't he? This wasn't just opportunistic—he knew exactly what he was doing."

"He's been building toward it for months," Fergus confirmed. "Ever since you regained your sanity, he's been working to undermine you, to convince the lesser lords that you're still too unstable to rule effectively. Your disappearance gave him the perfect opening."

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing a hand over my face. "How bad is it? Honestly."

Fergus's expression grew even more somber. "Bad, Your Majesty. Very bad." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Let me lay it out plainly. Of the twenty-three lesser lords, I'd say only five or six are firmly in your camp. Most rule small territories with limited military strength—maybe five thousand soldiers total, if we're generous."

The number hit me like a blow. Five thousand. Against what Sebastian could muster, it was nothing.

"And Sebastian?" I asked, though I already knew the answer would be worse.

"Sebastian has the loyalty of at least fifteen of the lesser lords," Fergus said grimly. "Including some of the most powerful ones—Lord Aldric, Lord Theron. Between them and Sebastian's own forces, we're looking at upwards of fifteen thousand soldiers. Maybe more."

My jaw clenched. "And Gregor?"

"Officially neutral," Fergus said. "But his neutrality leans heavily toward Sebastian. He won't openly oppose you, but he won't support you either. And if it comes to open conflict, I'd wager he throws in with Sebastian."

The picture he was painting was bleak. Sebastian had spent years building his power base while I'd been lost in madness, and now he had the numbers to back up his ambitions. If it came to war, we would be hopelessly outmatched.

"What about the royal guard?" I asked, grasping at straws.

Fergus's expression turned grimmer. "That's perhaps the worst news of all, Your Majesty. The guard is a shadow of what it once was. During your... illness, it was allowed to deteriorate. Of the thousand soldiers who should be protecting you, maybe half are truly loyal. The rest are either too old to fight effectively, or they've been bought by Sebastian."

I closed my eyes, feeling my kingdom crumbling around me.

"So what you're telling me," I said slowly, "is that if Sebastian decides to move against me, we're fucked."

"In a word, yes." Fergus leaned forward, voice urgent. "Your Majesty, we need to act quickly. We need to rebuild the guard, shore up our alliances, find something we can use against Sebastian to undermine his support."

"And if he moves before we're ready?"

Fergus's silence was answer enough.