Chapter 236: March Of The Foreign Army
Ivan noticed immediately and prompted him, "Speak freely, Alex. What is it?"
Alex took a deep breath before answering, "When Your Highness was under the dark influence, a report was sent to King Iskara informing him of the crisis. No one knew what would happen next, especially with Princess Evelyn making a deal with the wicked queen to marry her son, and with Lord Damien, Lady Cece, and Lord Edward imprisoned in the dungeon. Things were....very uncertain, to say the least, so we had to request backup."
He paused briefly before continuing, "And it seems, Your Highness, that he has arrived with that backup....only the backup happens to be most of the royal army of Versailles."
At his words, everyone’s eyes widened, and they were once again stunned into silence.
Alex then added, like very much the icing on the cake, "And he seems extremely angry. In fact, I have never seen him like this before."
It was only then that Damien let out a low whistle. "Oh dear....did I just jinx our peace?"
Ivan pressed the bridge of his nose, knowing all too well that his father would not calm down unless he saw him alive and unharmed. And given the extent of his rage, there was no telling whether he had already waged war and would refuse to listen to anyone but him.
Ivan released a tired sigh and asked, "Where is he now, Alex?"
"He is at the border of Demos, Your Highness. With such a large army, I’m surprised he managed to enter without being stopped all the way to the capital," Alex replied swiftly.
"Hm, you’re right about that," Ivan murmured, his thoughts already turning inward. He wondered how the army of Dartmouth had allowed such a massive force from another kingdom to pass without resistance.
He was still considering how to handle the situation, needing to meet his father while being unable to leave Eve alone, when another knock interrupted his thoughts.
This time, Alex opened the door to find Caleb standing outside, looking more stressed than anyone inside the room. As Caleb stepped in, Damien muttered dryly, "Oh dear....what’s next?"
"Your Highness," Caleb said quickly, "King Alaric requests an audience with you."
Guessing it must be about the current situation, Ivan gave a slight nod. "Send him in."
Caleb bowed and hurried off to summon the king.
A few minutes later, King Alaric stepped into the chamber, where Ivan stood by the window. Turning towards him, Alaric bowed and said, "Your Highness, I believe you have already been informed that King Iskara has arrived with the Versailles army."
Ivan waited silently for him to continue.
"I had anticipated something like this," Alaric went on, "so I gave orders in advance to allow them passage without any resistance from our forces."
Ivan regarded the man in silence for a moment before replying, "Are you not afraid that the army of Versailles might take over your kingdom? Not to mention, your people may not take kindly to another kingdom’s army marching so freely into their capital. Some might even think their king has abandoned them, which could lead to civil unrest."
Alaric nodded in agreement before answering, "You are not wrong in anything you’ve said, Your Highness." A guilt-laden smile touched his lips as he continued, "But truthfully, I believe the consequences of the grave sins committed by my family deserve far more."
His pale green eyes dropped in shame. "I cannot begin to express how deeply sorry I am for the atrocities committed by my own wife and son." His hands clenched into fists. "It is tragic that this kingdom must bear the consequences of those sins in whatever form they may take, so choosing not to resist is the least we can do in repentance."
Ivan and everyone else in the room fell silent, each of them able to feel the immense guilt given off by King Alaric.
After a few seconds, Ivan finally broke the silence. "Raise your head, King Alaric."
Alaric’s eyes widened slightly as Ivan continued, "Tell me....were you involved in your wife’s deeds, or in what your son did? Did you cover up their crimes, or shy away from delivering justice to the victims and their families?"
When Alaric remained silent, still staring at him, Ivan went on, his voice steady. "If the answer is ’no’ to every one of those questions, then you have nothing to be ashamed of, nor any reason to abandon your kingdom like this. You are a king....a descendant of a dear friend of mine....and he was never a man who accepted defeat so easily. He was one of the most righteous men whose valour was spoken of for years, long after the war had ended."
"So, King Alaric Kaine, descendant of King Zevran Kaine....you carry the weight of that legacy. Do not look so defeated. Hold your head high if you have done nothing wrong."
Alaric’s eyes brimmed with tears at Ivan’s words. He bowed his head once more and whispered, his voice filled with raw emotions, "Yes, Your Highness."
Cece’s, Damien’s, and Edward’s expressions softened at the exchange, and pity stirred within them for the old king who had endured so much, only to be betrayed by his own wife and son in such a cruel manner.
It was then that Ivan spoke again. "I will speak to my father once he arrives. Inform your people not to panic, and make sure the civilians are reassured as well."
"I thank you, Your Highness, for the generosity you have shown to a kingdom where you yourself suffered so greatly," Alaric replied, his voice filled with gratitude.
"Don’t mention it," Ivan said calmly. "As I told you, you did nothing wrong. You were a victim of their vile deeds yourself, and they have already been punished for it."
With that, Alaric departed to carry out everything Ivan had instructed.
As the hours passed and the moon rose to its peak, the magnificent army of Versailles marched through the capital’s streets. Though the civilians had already been told not to panic at the sight of the vast vampire army, many still held their breath as they heard the thunder of hooves and the rhythmic stomp of boots, the clink of armour echoing through the silent night.
People hid inside their homes, peeking through the narrow gaps of slightly parted windows as they watched the grand spectacle unfold, a powerful foreign army from one of the strongest kingdoms on the continent marching through their capital as though it already belonged to them. Goosebumps rose on their skin at the terrifying thought of what might happen should they be attacked now.
Even after being reassured by the royal army of Dartmouth that there was no need to panic and that the situation was under control, fear still crept up their spines as they imagined the chilling possibilities.
Soon, the army passed through the city and reached the gates of the Palace of Demos. Without encountering any resistance, they entered the grounds and came to a halt at the palace entrance.
At their head stood King Iskara, clad from head to toe in golden armour, a red cloak billowing behind him in the wind, bearing the royal crest of Versailles in gold.
His rage-filled, dark red eyes swept over the gathered figures, daring them to either greet him or crumble beneath his gaze. All but two of the familiar faces failed to so much as flinch under his scrutiny.
He dismounted his powerful black steed and strode towards King Alaric, who stood before him with a composed, almost demure posture to his own surprise.
"King Alaric," Iskara’s calm yet unmistakably authoritative voice echoed through the space. "Where is my son?"
And though King Alaric was a king in his own right, and despite the words Ivan had given him to steel his resolve, a cold sweat still broke out along his spine under the sheer force of Iskara’s presence.
He had believed only Ivan possessed such an overwhelming aura, but how foolish that thought now seemed. The man standing before him was Ivan’s father, after all.
"Your Majesty, I welcome you to the Kingdom of Dartmouth," King Alaric began, but Iskara had no patience for courtesies.
"You haven’t answered me," his eyes flaring a bright red as his voice dropped to a glacial tone, "Where. Is. My. Son?"
Alaric swallowed hard yet maintained a calm facade, though the same could not be said for the officials lined up behind him. They looked on the verge of fainting beneath Iskara’s overwhelming presence, especially with the sight of the massive army stationed behind him, and the towering man standing close at his side. That man was none other than Amond Greymark, the king’s shield and the commander of the royal knights of Versailles.
Damien and Cece could feel the fury exuding from their uncle, and they had to admit they had never seen him like this before....never this angry. Watching his presence paralyse the people of Dartmouth and leave them utterly tongue-tied, Damien decided to step in before Iskara’s barely restrained rage finally exploded.
