Chapter 72: The Announcement
Aveloria waited until the last healer stepped out of Evander’s chamber before she let out a slow breath. The room smelled of incense and herbs. Evander was asleep, his breathing steady after the wound on his chest was cleaned, stitched, and sealed. She had ordered the guards to repair the mess left by the attack—broken glass, overturned furniture, blood smears on the floor. Everything was put back into place, neat and organized, almost as if nothing had happened. Only the extra guards at the door made it clear that something was wrong.
She stood by Evander’s bedside for one more moment. He looked pale, but stable. She pulled the blanket at the edge of his bed to cover him, then stepped out.
Galen walked behind her without a sound. He had stayed with her the entire time, giving orders when needed, keeping everyone calm, and keeping Aveloria steady without trying to take over. She felt his presence like a constant shadow. She didn’t mind it. He was helpful, quiet, and patient.
But her anger was still running hot. She had held it in when speaking to the healers, when watching Evander bleed, and when trying to make sure the princesses were safe. Now it was crawling up her throat.
They walked through the long hallway in silence. When she took a sharp turn, Galen finally spoke from a few steps behind her.
"Aveloria," he said. "Where are you going?"
"To see my father," she answered without slowing.
Galen frowned. "Aveloria, maybe not today."
"I don’t have time to tiptoe around anyone," she snapped. "Someone attacked Evander. If a wanderer has been in this palace, I need answers."
"I understand," Galen said calmly. "But you and the king have not settled anything between you. Walking in angry won’t help."
"I’m not going there to fight. I’m going there to talk." She said.
Galen didn’t reply. He followed her anyway.
They reached the king’s study. Two guards stood outside. Aveloria pushed the door open without waiting for anyone to announce her.
Her father, King Alaric, sat behind his desk with several documents spread out. Eirene sat in the chair beside him, comfortably close. She looked relaxed until she saw Aveloria. Then her posture straightened, her chin lifted slightly, and her lips curved into a smug smirk that she didn’t bother to hide.
Aveloria’s anger deepened. She kept her expression steady, but the heat behind her eyes sharpened.
Alaric didn’t even hide his irritation.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I’m not in the mood to talk to you."
Eirene’s smirk widened.
Aveloria ignored her. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Galen moved in quietly and stood near the wall, letting her go forward alone.
"I’m here because something important happened," Aveloria said. "Something you need to know."
Alaric sighed loudly. "Say it quickly."
"Evander was attacked," she said. "He almost died."
Alaric froze. Eirene’s expression dropped for a second before she masked it again.
"What?" the king demanded, rising to his feet. "How? When? Is he stable? Where is he?"
Aveloria kept her voice firm. "He’s in his chamber. The healers stopped the bleeding. He is resting."
Alaric’s shoulders dropped slightly in relief. It was noticeable, and Eirene clearly noticed it too because she looked irritated again.
Aveloria continued. "Evander managed to describe the attacker. He said the man smelled like rot. That’s a sign of a wanderer."
Eirene stood abruptly. "That’s impossible. No wanderer could get inside the palace."
Aveloria looked at her. "Unless someone let them in."
Eirene stiffened. "You’re accusing people without proof."
"I am not—"
Alaric gestured sharply. "Aveloria, enough. Wanderers cannot enter these grounds. Our wards would alert us."
"It’s possible," Aveloria insisted. "Our wards are not perfect, and there have been breaches before—"
Her father cut her off again with a wave of his hand. "If you came here to throw baseless claims around, then you can leave. I have no patience for this, not after the nonsense that happened with you letting Lucien into the palace."
The familiar frustration hit her instantly.
"Of course," Aveloria muttered. "You don’t believe anything I say. Not since Lucien."
Alaric straightened. "Watch your tone."
"No," Aveloria said plainly. "I’m tired of pretending things are fine between us. But I didn’t come here to argue. I came here to tell you something important."
Alaric frowned. Eirene folded her arms. Galen moved a step closer, observing.
Aveloria inhaled deeply. "I’m ready to accept my mates."
The room went silent.
Eirene gasped loudly. Alaric stared at her as if she had spoken a foreign language. Even Galen blinked once, stunned.
Alaric finally spoke. "Are you sure? This is not something you say lightly."
"I am sure," Aveloria said. "And I have an announcement to make. I want all my mates present in the court in three days."
"You want all of them," Alaric repeated slowly. "All four?"
"Yes," she said clearly. "All four."
Alaric hesitated. His hand tapped the desk once. His expression was unreadable, but he was thinking, weighing, calculating.
"I will speak with Trovald," he said at last. "We will handle the arrangements. Invitations will be sent."
Eirene’s mouth fell open in disbelief. "Your Majesty—"
Alaric cut her off without even looking at her. "The decision is made."
Aveloria nodded. "Thank you."
She turned and headed for the door. Galen followed her out quietly, closing the door behind them. She almost walked several steps down the hallway before stopping. She leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly. Her body felt heavy from the long day, the worry, the confrontation. Galen watched her, waiting to see if she needed support.
Before he could ask anything, voices seeped through the door of the study. Aveloria stilled and gestured for Galen to remain silent.
Eirene spoke first. Her voice was sharp and angry.
"If you know what is right, you won’t allow this," she told the king. "Do you remember what happened last time all her mates were here? It was chaos."
Alaric’s voice followed, firmer than earlier. "Eirene, that’s enough."
"You cannot let her—"
"I said enough."
The room fell quiet.
Aveloria didn’t wait for more. She pushed herself away from the wall and walked on, her expression steady but her heart beating hard. Whatever came in three days would change everything—her position, her mates, the palace, the realm.
But she had made her decision. And she would stand by it.
