Chapter 22
It didn't take long for them to arrive. They made sure to blend in by hiding their scent and acting like normal citizens—if anyone realized they were vampires, it could be disastrous.
Rhydian kept asking for directions until he was led to the witches' queen's palace. Surprisingly, the palace had little to no guards. She must have been confident in her strength.
He approached the guard standing by the palace doors and requested entrance, but the man refused, repeatedly asking for a pass. Not wanting to waste any more time, Rhydian knocked him out with one swift move.
"Your Majesty, you need to stop. What if this only makes them angrier?" Edmund asked, his tone both judgmental and scolding.
"I have a feeling it won't," Rhydian brushed off his worry nonchalantly and pushed open the brooding doors of the queen's palace.
"To what do I owe a visit from the vampire king?" A feminine voice echoed in the hall as soon as he stepped in, Edmund following cautiously behind him.
"I see, so you knew I was coming?" Rhydian asked with a smirk, though his eyes remained unreadable. Without waiting for him to say another word, the queen sent a powerful spell hurtling his way.
His smirk deepened as he dodged it swiftly. Edmund tried to step in to protect him, but Rhydian gestured for him to stay back. It was him she was after—he had to let her know he meant no harm.
Before he could regain his balance, she sent another spell toward him. He tried to dodge, but his legs wouldn't budge—they were stuck to the floor. Glancing down, he realized her earlier attack had trapped him. So that was her plan all along—make him think he needed to dodge, only to catch him off guard by rooting him in place.
When he looked back up, she had a smug smirk plastered on her face, clearly pleased with herself as her next spell came speeding toward him. Letting out a deep sigh, he raised his hand and swatted it away effortlessly, deflecting it like it was nothing.
Her smirk vanished in an instant, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief. She couldn't fathom how he had deflected her spell so easily. Panicked, she quickly launched another attack, but this time, he didn't wait. Exhaling slowly, he braced himself—and in one swift motion, he was by her side before she could even react.
Thanks to his speed, the spell that had locked his feet in place was forcibly broken, freeing his legs. She gasped, clearly startled by how quickly he moved. As she prepared to launch another attack, he grabbed her wrist mid-motion. In one swift move, he pinned her against the wall, holding her hands above her head to keep her in place.
She struggled against his grip, her glare searing into him. "Let me go, you bloodsucker!" she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.
His smirk returned—this fiery temper clearly ran in the family.
"Queen Freya," Rhydian said, his voice calm but dangerously low, "we need to have a real conversation. So, what's it going to be? Keep wasting your energy attacking me, or calm down so we can talk? Your choice. By now, you should realize you're no match for me." His cold, emotionless gaze bore into hers as he waited for her response.
She sighed and finally stopped struggling. "You can let me go. I won't attack you," she said quietly. His eyes narrowed, growing even colder, and he noticed the way his cold expression made her shoulders tense.
"Don't try anything," he warned, his voice cold and firm. "I don't have much patience."
Reluctantly, he let her go. She huffed in annoyance but didn't retaliate. Instead, she turned around, her movements steady and majestic as she walked toward her throne. With a dramatic toss of her robe, she sat down. Her piercing gaze returned to him, sharp and unyielding.
"Well," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "what do you want? You definitely didn't come all the way here just for some petty chat, did you?"
His smirk returned as he recalled Sera. He couldn't wait to see this stubborn side of her—these two sisters were definitely two peas in a pod.
He exhaled deeply. "I know you sent your sister to kill me," he said calmly.
Her eyes flared with anger. "What did you do to Sera? Don't you dare hurt my sister, I swear—"
"Relax," he interrupted. "She's fine. I said I knew, not that I was angry about it."
Her brows knit in confusion as she tried to make sense of his words.
"Look, I don't blame you witches for hating vampires," he continued, his tone steady. "My father hunted your kind for centuries during his reign. I'll tell you this—I was never in support of that madness."
"Yeah, right," she snapped, glaring at him with pure hatred. "Like I'd ever believe that."
"It's your choice whether to believe me or not," he said evenly. "But hear me out. This feud started 400 years ago, back when my father was king..."
It took some time to explain everything to her, and even then, he didn't expect her to fully grasp it right away. Her hatred was still evident in the way her eyes burned with rage, like embers refusing to die out.
"Do you know how our parents died?" Freya asked suddenly, her grip on her staff tightening as she glared at him, visible tears welling up in her eyes.
"They died protecting us from you damned bloodsuckers!" she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and pain. "And now you expect me to just understand? To forgive you? Never. I could never forget what your kind did to them." Her grip on her staff tightened even more, her knuckles turning white as her eyes burned with raw hatred.
"Queen Freya," Rhydian said quietly, his tone controlled. "I won't pretend to understand or sympathize with your pain, but I do know what it feels like to lose your parents to the enemy. The man you want revenge on is long gone. His blood runs through my veins, but holding onto hatred isn't the solution here." He paused, the weight of his words sinking in. He never thought this day would come—the day when he'd be the one asking for validation.
"Killing you is the best answer, Vampire King. That's the only way our parents can rest in peace," she shot back, standing up abruptly from her throne. He swallowed hard, his eyes narrowing. Now she wasn't just mad—she was furious.