Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother Chapter 26

Elara’s POV

For five whole years of dead silence, I had built a new life. Then, the bombardnt began.

Frantic couriers cornered outside the palace gates. Missives arrived at my apartnt, sealed with that familiar crest—the twin serpents coiled around a silver chalice. The house of Valois. A symbol I had buried so deep in my mory it might as well have been a grave.

Why now?

Over the next several days, the missives ca relentlessly. Morning. Afternoon. Evening. While I was filing dispatches. While I was walking Valerius ho from the academy. While I was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that the walls of my small apartnt were thick enough to keep the world out.

They weren’t.

The latest missive held a single, terrifying threat: If you do not answer, I will present myself at the palace.

I pressed my back against the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, holding a communication crystal to finally answer her summons.

I activated the crystal. Her sigil flared instantly, as though she’d been waiting with her hand hovering over it. Hungry. Ready.

“Finally.” The Baroness’s voice crackled through the enchantnt, sharp as broken glass. “Where have you been hiding, you ungrateful little bitch? Do you know how many couriers I sent? Do you have any idea the trouble I’ve gone through to track you down?”

I pressed the crystal so hard my knuckles whitened.

“Baroness.” I kept my voice level. Steady. I would not call her mother. I had not called her that since the night she threw out. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” A laugh—brittle and joyless. “I want to know why my foster daughter disappeared like a thief in the night and never had the decency to send word. I want to know why I had to learn from a market gossip that you’ve been living in the capital like so common washerwoman—”

“You told to leave.” The words ca out harder than I intended. Good. “You chose Isolde. You told to get rid of my child or get out of your house when I was eighteen and pregnant. I got out. I owe you nothing.”

Silence. Brief. Dangerous.

“You listen to carefully, Elara.” The Baroness’s voice dropped. The shrill anger drained away, replaced by a calculated, dangerous calm. The voice she used when she was about to draw blood. “I know exactly where your little riverside district apartnt is. And I know that your son—Valerius Frostfang, four years old—is enrolled at the Royal Primary Academy.”

My blood turned to ice water.

“You are a single commoner mother,” she continued. “I am the wife of Baron de Valois, seated mber of the Imperial Elder Council. If I wished to use my status to file a petition questioning the welfare of a child being raised in such... precarious circumstances...” She let the pause stretch. “Well. You can imagine how that might end.”

I couldn’t breathe. The walls of my kitchen pressed inward. The crystal trembled in my grip.

“What do you want?” My voice cracked. I hated myself for it.

“Co ho this Friday evening. We have matters to discuss.”

“And if I refuse?”

Another pause. Longer this ti.

“If you do not co ho this Friday evening, Elara, your little Valerius will lose his life. The capital is such a dangerous place for small children. Especially ones with no proper family to look after them.”

The threat wasn’t even veiled. It was naked. Exposed. A knife laid on the table between us.

I thought of Valerius. His dark curls bouncing as he ran ahead of on the cobblestones. His gold eyes—his father’s eyes—lighting up when he spotted the bakery window.

My son. My whole world. The panic paralyzed , but my protective instincts roared to life.

“I’ll be there,” I whispered in absolute terror.

“Wonderful.” The Baroness’s voice brightened instantly. Warm. Musical. As though she hadn’t just threatened a four-year-old’s life. “We’ll expect you. Don’t be late, darling.”

The crystal went dark.

I sat on the kitchen floor for a long ti after that. My legs wouldn’t hold . My mind raced through every option, every escape route, every scenario—and each one ended the sa way.

She had .

The Valois estate looked exactly as I rembered.

Neat hedgerows lining the gravel drive. White stone walls scrubbed clean of moss. Iron lanterns glowing amber in the fading light. Everything trimd and polished and proper.

A beautiful cage.

I stood at the gate, my hands balled into fists at my sides. My heart hamred so hard I could feel it in my teeth. Every instinct scread at to turn around. To run. To grab Valerius and disappear into the wilderness.

But I couldn’t run from the wife of an Imperial Elder. Not with my son’s life already held hostage.

The front door opened before I reached it.

And there she stood.

The Baroness de Valois. Immaculate as always—dove-gray gown, pearl earrings, silver hair swept into an elegant chignon. She looked like soone’s beloved grandmother. The kind who baked sweet rolls and told bedti stories.

“Elara, darling!” She spread her arms wide. Her smile was radiant. Warm. Sickeningly fake. “Oh, look at you. All grown up. Co in, co in—you must be exhausted from the journey.”

The shift was so seamless it made my skin crawl. Less than a day ago, she had coldly blackmailed with my son’s life. Now she was playing the doting mother for an audience I couldn’t see.

I stepped inside. The foyer slled of lavender and beeswax. Unchanged.

“This way, this way.” The Baroness ushered into the sitting room, her hand pressing against the small of my back with a familiarity that made my stomach lurch. “There’s soone I’d like you to et.”

The sitting room was warm. A fire crackled in the hearth. Everything staged for comfort.

A man sat in the Baron’s old armchair.

He was a fifty-sothing man, heavyset with a doughy build. His thinning gray hair was slicked back with so much pomade it glead under the lamplight like wet stone. His waistcoat strained across a protruding belly. Thick fingers rested on the armrests.

He looked up when I entered.

His eyes moved over slowly. Deliberately. Starting at my ankles. Traveling upward—hips, waist, chest—lingering in places that made bile rise in my throat. It was a predatory, flesh-appraising gaze. He wasn’t looking at a person. He was appraising livestock.

“Ah.” His voice was oily, arrogant, and self-satisfied. “So this is the girl. You were right, Baroness, she finally saw sense and ca back to her loving family for this generous arrangent.”

He had no idea. The realization hit like a physical blow. He thought this was a natural family reunion. He thought I was a willing participant in whatever this was, completely oblivious to the violent coercion that had dragged here.

“Harold, may I present my foster daughter, Elara.” The Baroness bead. Her hand squeezed my shoulder—a gesture that looked affectionate and felt like a shackle.

Harold heaved himself to his feet. His breath slled of pipe tobacco and sothing sour as he took my hand and pressed his wet lips to my knuckles.

“Charming, Elara,” he murmured, directly using my first na as though he already owned , still holding my hand. His thumb traced a slow circle against my wrist. “Absolutely charming.”

I pulled my hand free, stepping back, my fear obvious.

The Baroness’s smile didn’t waver. She ignored my terror entirely, clasping her hands together.

“Harold has been so very kind to offer to marry you,” the Baroness said, clapping her hands as though she had just announced the most wonderful news in the world. “Isn’t it marvelous? Despite your past mistakes, and despite dragging around that little bastard, he is still willing to give you respectability and a proper ho.”