Chapter 82: After the Massacre
Six hours had passed since the chaos in the throne hall. The screams had stopped. The bodies had been removed. The blood on the floor had been scrubbed until only faint stains remained. The hall smelled of herbs used to mask the stench of death, but nothing could entirely hide it. The kingdom had survived, but the weight of what happened hung over the room and over everyone inside it.
Aveloria stood in the middle of the hall with Theron, Lucien, and Galen close by. Torvald stood farther off with the king, Alaric, and a few elders. The atmosphere was tense. Everyone looked tired. Everyone looked shaken. They had fought for hours, and even though most of the Wanderers had been killed, the fear they left behind still lingered.
Torvald looked exhausted. His eyes were red, as if he hadn’t blinked in a long time. He held his hands behind his back, but the slight tremble in them was visible whenever he shifted his weight.
King Alaric was the worst of them all. His face looked hollow. The shock from realizing Eirene had not only betrayed the kingdom but had been a Wanderer in disguise still sat heavily in his expression. His anger had been boiling since the moment the fighting ended.
Now it erupted. He rounded on Aveloria like a man who had reached his limit.
"You were careless!" he shouted, pointing at her. "You should have told me what you planned. You should have brought this to me before acting on your own."
Aveloria stood her ground. She didn’t look away. She didn’t flinch. She breathed in slowly and replied, "You were bewitched, Father. You refused to listen to me. You avoided every conversation I tried to bring to you. I did what I had to do to protect this kingdom."
"I was not avoiding you," Alaric snapped. "I was—"
"You were under her influence," Aveloria cut in. "You didn’t look me in the eye or listen to me like you used to before the confinement. You dismissed every concern I raised. She has so much evil that you know nothing about. You would not have helped me expose her."
Alaric’s jaw tightened. He didn’t deny it.
"I did not know," he said, his voice dropping. "I had no idea she had something planned. You should have told me there would be powder involved, that it would expose Wanderers, that it could cause chaos. You put the entire hall at risk."
Aveloria stared at him with controlled frustration. "I had no idea there were so many Wanderers in the hall. Elder Thalos only explained that the powder would reveal Eirene’s true identity. I thought it would be about her telling the truth, like, compulsively or something. I did not expect her to be a wanderer or even the dozens of reactions."
Alaric took a step toward her. "What did you expect from someone with such evil in her heart? You knew she was dangerous. You knew she was hiding something. You should have kept me informed."
Aveloria’s tone hardened. "Would you have listened?"
Silence.
Everyone in the hall knew the answer. Alaric had been entirely under Eirene’s spell. He had dismissed every warning. He had defended Eirene at every turn. If Aveloria had told him her plans, he likely would have stopped her.
Alaric turned to the three mates standing behind Aveloria.
"Did any of you know?" he demanded.
Theron, Lucien, and Galen exchanged glances. None of them spoke.
Galen stepped forward slightly. "We did not know. She didn’t involve us."
Alaric’s frustration grew. "So you acted alone? Without the knowledge of your mates? How could neither of you know about her plans? Even Galen?"
No one responded. There was nothing they could say that wouldn’t make things more tense.
The elders spoke next, trying to shift the conversation toward solutions.
"We must focus on how to curtail the situation," one said.
"We need to purge the kingdom of hidden Wanderers."
Another added, "The powder worked. If Elder Thalos can create more—"
"No," Alaric said sharply. "We cannot throw the kingdom into another frenzy. We need structure."
"I suggest we deploy troupes for cleansing within and beyond the palace walls," Trovald suggested.
But Alaric wasn’t really listening to the elders. He was overwhelmed. His mind was scattered. He kept replaying the image of Eirene transforming into a Wanderer. He kept hearing her shrieks. He kept feeling the weight of betrayal pressing against his chest.
He sank onto the nearest chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"She was my queen," he said quietly. "She was my wife. And all this time...She was the greatest enemy in my own bed."
His voice broke slightly. No one spoke.
"I slept beside her," he continued. "I confided in her. I shared my table with her. And she was feeding off the kingdom like a parasite." He paused, looking sick.
"I feel dirty. I feel like a fool." He admitted.
Aveloria softened slightly. "Father—"
He cut her off. "No. Let me speak." He swallowed hard. "I did not protect this kingdom. I failed it. I failed all of you."
His gaze swept across the hall, landing on the elders, the mates, and then on Aveloria.
"You risked your life to expose her. You defended the people. Meanwhile, I defended a monster." He said to Aveloria. Alaric covered his face with his hands.
The elders fell silent. The weight of his guilt filled the room.
After a long pause, he asked, his voice hoarse, "Is she alive?"
Aveloria nodded. "The healers treated her. She is in the dungeon along with some captured Wanderers."
Alaric let out a breath that sounded like it hurt him. "Good. She will be dealt with. Properly." He stood again, regaining a bit of his authority.
"Your majesty, what do we do about the people?" An elder asked.
"Compensate anyone who lost a family member today," he ordered. "Arrange care for the injured. Strengthen the guards at the city gates. And prepare the halls for the mourning ceremonies."
He began dismissing the court with a tired wave of his hand.
But Aveloria spoke again before anyone could leave.
"There is something else," she said. "You need to dispose of every gift she gave you. Anything she disguised as a charm. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, pendants. Burn them all. And you need to visit the temple. You must do a soul cleansing. If there is any bewitchment left on you, it must be removed."
The king looked at her for a long moment. He didn’t argue. He didn’t deny it. He nodded.
The court emptied slowly. The elders filed out silently. Theron, Lucien, and Galen followed Aveloria. Torvald stayed behind with Alaric.
