Serpent Emperor's Bride Chapter 198: Half-Bowed Loyalty

[Imperial Encampnt — Council Tent — Later]

The council tent stood more quietly than the rest of the imperial encampnt. No knights speaking loudly and no servants entering carelessly.

Only low blue flas burned around the bronze lanterns while ancient maps of Zahryssar rested across the central table.

And inside, Raviel and Zyvera sat unusually silent, with no arguing and no dramatic complaints. Which sohow made the atmosphere feel stranger. Then the tent curtains opened, and Levin entered quietly. Imdiately, both siblings stood, bowing deeply.

"We greet the Mother of the Empire."

Levin nodded once before walking toward the central table, and then he sat calmly. Silver-blue robes spreading softly beneath dim lantern light. For several monts nobody spoke.

Then finally Levin looked toward them directly as his blue gaze narrowed slightly. "You claid there was sothing important enough to request privacy... What is it?"

The siblings exchanged glances imdiately afterward, not nervous but careful. Then slowly Raviel reached inside his robes and placed sothing upon the council table.

CLINK.

A necklace, a beautiful necklace. Made from pale gold and ancient serpent-crafted silver, at its center rested a massive pink diamond glowing softly beneath the lantern flas.

The mont it touched the table, the atmosphere inside the tent subtly changed because the jewel carried history.

Levin silently stared at it longer than expected because sothing about it felt familiar, ancient, and royal.

Then finally he lifted his gaze toward Raviel. "...is this why you traveled across Eastern Zahryssar? To gift jewelry?"

Imdiately Zyvera looked at him, saying. "This is not ordinary jewelry."

Raviel imdiately pinched her arm under the table. "OW—!"

"Allow to speak properly for once," he whispered furiously.

"You speak as if I commit cris every ti I open my mouth."

"You absolutely do."

Levin quietly watched both siblings argue, and sohow after everything happening recently, their nonsense felt oddly peaceful.

Then finally Raviel cleared his throat dramatically, straightened himself, and looked directly toward Levin, and his expression turned serious again.

"...this necklace is not ordinary, Malika. This necklace once belonged to...Malika Ninsara."

Silence crashed across the council tent instantly.

Levin’s blue eyes slowly narrowed. After all, that is the na no one in Zahryssar will ever forget.

Malika Ninsara. One of the oldest mothers of the empire is recorded within imperial history. A woman was worshipped almost like a saint among the temple archives.

And imdiately Levin understood sothing was deeply wrong. "...that necklace should not exist outside the imperial treasury."

Raviel slowly nodded. "Yes."

The pink diamond flickered softly beneath the lantern flas.

"Which ans..." Levin’s voice lowered. "...soone stole it."

Neither sibling answered imdiately, and sohow their silence itself beca confirmation. Then slowly Raviel leaned slightly forward. His voice is dropping lower, dangerously lower.

"Malika...that is not the most troubling part."

Levin’s expression hardened subtly. "What do you an?"

Imdiately, Zyvera glanced carefully toward the tent entrance. Making certain no guards stood close enough to overhear. Then quietly, almost conspiratorially, she whispered, "This necklace was sold...at the western underground auctions."

Silence.

Levin’s blue eyes narrowed imdiately because Western auctions were infamous across Zahryssar. Not markets, not legal trade halls. But black-market gatherings were forbidden where relics, cursed artifacts, stolen treasures, and sotis even living creatures were sold beneath hidden noble houses.

Then suddenly Zyvera proudly puffed her chest, completely ruining the tension, and a smug smile spread across her face.

"But...it was who stole this valuable necklace and reclaid Malika Ninsara’s treasure."

Levin blinked once. anwhile, Raviel imdiately pinched the bridge of his nose, deeply exhausted. "You truly do not need to sound proud while confessing cris before the Malika."

"I am not confessing cris," Zyvera looked offended. "I am confessing talent."

"That statent is not helping."

Levin silently watched both siblings for several monts, and honestly, after witchcraft, resurrected emperors, corrupted monsters, and imperial conspiracies, their nonsense barely affected him anymore.

Instead, his gaze slowly returned toward the necklace. "...it looks ordinary. Why would soone steal this specifically?"

The pink diamond flickered faintly beneath the lantern light, almost alive.

"And more importantly..." Levin’s gaze darkened slightly. "...why did it suddenly appear now?"

Neither sibling answered imdiately because, clearly, they had been asking themselves the sa question.

Then Levin finally sighed softly. "I shall discuss this matter with Malik Zerat."

And naturally he reached toward the necklace, but imdiately Raviel placed his hand over it first.

SMACK.

Then smiled brightly like the most shaless con artist in Eastern Zahryssar. "Hahaha... I apologize, Malika."

Levin slowly looked up, expression flat. "...what are you doing?"

Raviel coughed awkwardly, still keeping his hand over the necklace protectively. "You cannot take it."

Then Levin stared at him in complete disbelief. "What? This is imperial treasure. It belongs within Silthara Palace."

"I absolutely agree, Malika." Zyvera nodded seriously, then imdiately ruined everything again as she crossed her arms proudly. "However...it was stolen centuries ago. And WE found it."

Raviel added quickly. "So technically...it belongs to us right now."

Levin slowly rubbed his forehead, clearly developing exhaustion. "You two are openly negotiating with the imperial family."

"Yes."

"Before the Malika."

"...yes."

"In the imperial council tent."

Raviel smiled weakly. "When you repeat it like that...it sounds dangerous."

"It IS dangerous."

Zyvera imdiately whispered toward Raviel, "I told you we might die today."

Levin exhaled deeply afterward and then calmly said, "Very well."

Imdiately, both siblings straightened, interested.

"You shall receive several gold pouches..." Levin spoke smoothly. "...alongside diamonds from the imperial treasury."

But before he could continue, Raviel slowly shook his head. "That is not what we desire, Malika."

Levin visibly paused as his blue eyes narrowed. "...then what exactly do you want?"

For once, both siblings fell completely serious, with no laughter and no dramatic complaints. Only careful silence. Then Raviel and Zyvera exchanged glances.

As though silently confirming sothing. Finally, Raviel spoke quietly and carefully. "We desire...a noble title and...a position beside the Malika."

Silence crashed across the council tent because, suddenly, this was no longer about a necklace, no longer about treasure, and no longer about gold.

This was ambition. Political ambition, and for the first ti since eting the siblings, Levin realized sothing important. These two were not rely thieves; they were survivors trying to climb inside the imperial family.

***

[Later — Afternoon — Imperial Encampnt]

Afternoon sunlight spread across Eastern Zahryssar in dull gold. The imperial encampnt had begun preparing for departure already.

Servants moved between tents. Imperial knights secured supplies. Mage circles extinguished one by one beneath the desert winds.

And near the center of the encampnt inside the imperial command pavilion, Zerat stood near the war table silently. Silver robes are dark beneath afternoon shadows, and golden eyes are unreadable.

Then the pavilion curtains opened, and imdiately three figures entered together.

Captain Varesh, Raevahn, and Arkhazunn. All three bowed deeply at once. "We greet the malik."

Zerat glanced toward them briefly, then calmly asked, "What of Sah’qir village?"

Varesh imdiately answered. "The corruption has been fully cleansed, Malik."

Arkhazunn stepped forward afterward. "The healing barriers shall remain active for several weeks. The ration caravans have already been dispatched."

Raevahn added quietly: "The surviving villagers are being relocated toward safer settlents."

Zerat nodded once slowly as his voice remained calm, cold, and controlled. "Good. Prepare the imperial departure."

All three imdiately bowed again. "As Malik commands."

And just as Varesh turned, a familiar voice echoed from the entrance, soft, elegant, and beautifully dangerous. "...are we finally leaving Eastern Zahryssar?"

Silence, an absolute silence. Every serpent inside the pavilion froze instantly; then slowly they turned, and standing beneath fluttering imperial curtains was Slyvarakh.

Alive, smiling, and breathing.

Varesh’s eyes widened imdiately. "...Malik...slyvarakh."

Raevahn visibly stepped backward, disbelief completely overtaking his expression. Even Arkhazunn—the High Mage of Zahryssar—froze in complete silence because years ago all three of them had witnessed his funeral pyre themselves.

Yet now the dead crown prince stood before them, smiling casually in afternoon sunlight. As though death itself had failed to keep him.

anwhile, Slyvarakh calmly looked between them. His silver eyes glead with amusent. Then softly he smiled wider as a quiet chuckle escaped him.

"Oh...long ti no see."

The atmosphere inside the pavilion instantly beca suffocating because his voice remained exactly the sa. The sa elegant tone, the sa terrifying calmness, and sohow that familiarity made the resurrection even worse.

Varesh’s breathing visibly tightened. "...How co he is..."

The words escaped instinctively and automatically like an old mory. Imdiately afterward, all three instinctively lowered themselves halfway, not fully, not properly, but enough to reveal hesitation.

Ancient habit and an ancient loyalty, and the mont they did, silence crashed violently across the pavilion because everyone realized what had just happened.

Their bodies rembered Slyvarakh before their minds could reject him. anwhile, Zerat stood completely still, watching and silent.

Golden eyes unreadable. Then suddenly Varesh visibly stiffened because reality finally returned.

Slyvarakh was not emperor...never emperor.

Only acting emperor. And standing before them now was the true Malik of Zahryssar. Imdiately Varesh lowered himself completely toward Zerat instead.

"We apologize, Malik."

Raevahn and Arkhazunn imdiately followed. This ti fully, without hesitation, but even then, the atmosphere remained deeply tense.

Because everyone understood the truth now. The empire itself still rembered Slyvarakh. anwhile, Slyvarakh quietly watched the entire scene and smiled in amusent.

Then slowly he stepped further into the pavilion. The black-and-silver scales near his throat were shifting faintly beneath the lantern light.

Rotten, cracked, and unnatural.

anwhile, Zerat remained completely expressionless, golden eyes cold and unmoving. Then finally the emperor spoke.

"Prepare for departure." Silence lingered briefly afterward. Then Zerat added: "We shall not delay further."

Imdiately Varesh, Raevahn, and Arkhazunn bowed deeply again.

"As Malik commands."

And one by one they began leaving the pavilion. Though each of them glanced toward Slyvarakh at least once while passing, not openly, not boldly, but instinctively because no matter how much they denied it, the empire still rembered him.

anwhile Slyvarakh quietly watched everything unfold, and slowly...very slowly a smile spread across his face because, unlike everyone else inside the pavilion, he was not tense. His silver eyes drifted toward the pavilion entrance.

Toward the imperial road stretching westward, toward Silthara and the heart of Zahryssar.

And sowhere deep inside his thoughts sothing dark began stirring, sothing ancient and sothing wicked.

’The journey toward Silthara...is going to beco truly entertaining.’

The corrupted scales near his throat cracked further, and for one horrifying mont the lantern flas around the pavilion dimd. As though the darkness inside Slyvarakh itself had briefly awakened.

anwhile outside across the imperial encampnt, the departure preparations continued normally.

Knights securing weapons. Servants loading carriages. Imperial banners rising beneath desert winds. Yet none of them realized the true danger traveling toward Silthara was not corrupted beasts, hidden enemies, or political conspiracies.

It was the silver-eyed serpent smiling quietly inside the pavilion. The prince who returned from death. The acting emperor once ruled Zahryssar like sunlight.

And the monster is now planning sothing far more terrifying than war because Slyvarakh did not rely want the throne anymore.

No.

He wanted the empire, the crown, the history, and perhaps worst of all, the person standing beside Zerat.