Chapter 9
Inside Valmont Keep, white candles burned brightly, the atmosphere festive and full of joy.
Lucien sat by the wedding bed, staring at Vivienne’s bashful face beneath her veil, but for some reason, his thoughts kept drifting to another figure—the one who had always knelt at his feet.
“Lucien?” Vivienne called softly, tugging at his sleeve. “Shouldn’t we drink the wedding wine?”
Lucien snapped back to reality and smiled gently.
Hedrank the wine, stood up, preparing to leave.
Vivienne grabbed his sleeve in distress.
“Lucien, where are you going? Tonight is our wedding night!”
Lucien hesitated, unable to understand why he felt the urge to leave.
“I…I need to handle some business in my study.”
Ignoring Vivienne’s tearful expression, Lucien walked briskly out of the room, heading for the study.
He opened the door and instinctively
a familiar corner.
It was empty now, the familla no longer waiting for him.
Lucien moved closer to the spot, almost unconsciously reaching down to touch the floor, as though he could still feel Seraphine’s warmth.
Just then, Vivienne barged in and flung herself into his arms.
“Lucien, I truly love you.”
Lucien, about to push her away, suddenly smelled a strong fragrance
A surge of heat spread through his body.
“What have you put on?”
“Of course, something to drive you wild,” Vivienne whispered, her arms slipping around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.
The night was filled with passion.
The next morning, Lucien awoke in a haze.
“Dammit! How dare you drug me!” he muttered.
Vivienne, lying next to him, immediately burst into tears. “Lucien, I am yours now. Serving you and giving the heirs is what I should do.”
Lucien frowned as he got up and quickly dressed. He then made his way to the study.
“Ge: Frost the gauntlet back here.”
The guard nodded and hurried off.
However, half an hour later, the guard returned, trembling as he knelt before Lucien.
“We couldn’t find Frost the gauntlet.”
Lucien’s heart sank into panic.
“Useless!” he shouted, pushing the guard aside and rushing barefoot to the gauntlet’s Forge.
The leader of the gauntlet knelt on the floor, his forehead pressed to the cold tiles.
“Prince Valmont, Frost left after enduring the Judas Cradle yesterday.”
Lucien’s pupils contracted.
He staggered backward, his gaze landing on the bloodstained fron board in the center of the torture chamber.
The three–meter–long nails still had remnants of flesh hanging from them, and dark red blood trailed all the way to the door
“She left on her own?”
Chapter 9
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“Yes,” the leader replied, his voice trembling. “She was…barely whole.”
Lucien suddenly recalled the figure he had seen at the wedding, moving against the crowd.
It wasn’t a hallucination.
His Sera had truly left.
Three Months Later.
“Have you heard? The new leader of the Shadow Court single–handedly took on the Iron Veil Chapter!”
“They say the woman was dressed in black, her swordplay was strange, and not a single one of the thirty–eight members of the Iron Veil survived!”
In a tavern, a man said.
“If we’re talking about the new leader of the Shadow Court, she’s something else! Three days ago, she stormed the Septem Spire and decapitated the leader to avenge an old blood feud!”
On the second floor, Lucien’s cup cracked loudly in his hands.
“Prince Valmont,” the guard whispered, “We’ve received word that the leader of the Shadow Court resembles Frost the gauntlet.”
“Prepare the horses,” Lucien’s voice was
On top of a cliff, at the Shadow Court.
as cold
ice.
We’re going to the Shadow Court.”
Seraphine stood dressed in black, her dark cloak billowing behind her as she gazed out at the sea of clouds below.
“Master.”
Alistair’s personal guard knelt before her, “We’ve just received word. Prince Valmont is leading soldiers to the Shadow Court.”
A cold smile tugged at Seraph.
“Good.”
As she turned, disciples bowed like wheat before a storm.
In three months, she’d butchered seven clans tied to House Frost’s fall.
The realm now called her the Morrigan’s Blade.
“Fina.” Alistair met her in the hall. “Lucien comes for you.”
“For me?” She laughed. “What right has he?”
Alistair studied her. “Do you truly feel nothing?”
Seraphine drew her sword.
The blade mirrored her frozen eyes.
“Uncle, know what Lucien did as I bled on the Judas Cradle?”
Her fingertip slid along the edge. Blood welled.
“He took his vows”
Chapter 9
