{Third Person}
The mont Zarek stepped into his residence, the doors slamd shut behind him with a force that made the servants flinch.
His jaw tightened.
Before anyone could react, a vase flew across the room and shattered violently against the wall. The crack echoed like thunder.
Zarek’s chest rose and fell sharply, his temper snapping loose all at once. "That arrogant bastard..." he muttered under his breath.
He still felt humiliated by Alexander’s actions in front of his guards. His eyes darkened.
Another sweep of his arm, and a table overturned, everything on it crashing to the floor.
The room descended into chaos as servants dropped to their knees, trembling, their heads pressed low to the ground. No one dared to breathe
A maid, frozen with fear, reacted a second too late. Instantly, Zarek’s gaze fell on her. "You."
Her entire body went stiff.
"Take her out and kill her," he said coldly.
The maid’s face drained of colour as she was dragged away, her pleas barely forming before they were cut off.
Julia stood to the side, watching. This was not new. She had seen it too many tis. Still, her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
"Zarek," she said carefully as she stepped forward. "This is unnecessary. You’re letting him—"
"Don’t." The warning ca sharply.
She paused, but didn’t retreat completely. "You’re letting him get to you," she continued softly. "That’s exactly what he wants—"
Zarek moved fast. His hand shot out and wrapped around her throat, cutting her words off instantly.
Julia’s eyes widened slightly as he forced her back a step, his grip tightening just enough to make breathing difficult.
"You think I don’t know the reason you followed there?" he said, his voice low and seething. "You think I don’t know you just wanted to see him?" His grip tightened.
Julia swallowed against his hold, forcing her voice out despite the pressure. "You are imagining things..."
The words barely left her lips before his expression darkened further.
"Imagining?" he repeated.
The accusation rely enraged him further. Then he forcefully pushed her away.
Julia staggered back, barely catching herself before she fell. She coughed, one hand flying to her throat as she struggled to steady her breathing. The faint imprint of his fingers was already beginning to show against her skin.
Zarek jabbed a finger at her, his gaze icy and rciless. "Rember this," he said. "The day I prove you still have feelings for him..."
His voice dropped into sothing final. "That’s the day you stop existing."
The threat hung heavily in the air. Without another word, he turned and stord out, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
The room fell into silence.
Julia’s chest rose and fell unevenly. Then slowly, she closed her eyes and released a quiet breath.
***
Two days later, the Werewolf Imperial Palace received a formal response from the Human Parliant.
The sealed docunts were delivered directly into King Sebastian’s hands.
He sat in the council hall, the weight of authority evident in his posture as he broke the seal and began going through the contents one by one.
DNA test results, official family registry records, and inheritance docuntation. Photographs—dated and verified—of Amara Caldwell from infancy to adulthood, standing beside Anthony and Matilda Caldwell at each stage of her life.
The evidence was thorough, deliberate and difficult to dispute.
Once he was done, King Sebastian signalled for his officials and ministers to step forward. They gathered around, each taking turns to examine the docunts.
Low murmurs soon filled the hall.
"This is... quite comprehensive."
"The Parliant’s seal is present on every docunt."
"There is no inconsistency."
At last, the Minister of War stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Your Majesty," he said, "this is sufficient proof. The political bride’s identity as a Caldwell is legitimate."
Several other ministers nodded in agreent.
"The evidence is sound."
"There is no basis for further suspicion."
King Sebastian gave a slow nod. "Then it is settled," he said. "The political bride has been wronged. It is only right that she is properly placated."
At this, the Minister of Rights stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, I suggest a formal welco banquet be held in her honour," he said. "And invitations should be extended to the Human Parliant to nd the misunderstanding between both kingdoms."
A ripple of agreent followed.
"That would restore balance."
"It would also reaffirm the treaty."
Another minister added, "Given her current condition, perhaps the banquet should be held in two weeks’ ti, to allow her to recover."
King Sebastian considered briefly, then nodded. "Very well. It will be done."
---
The Alpha Prince’s residence~
A few hours later, three royal carriages rolled in through the gates, bearing the King’s insignia.
Guards dismounted swiftly, moving with precision as they began unloading large trunks—finely crafted, sealed, and clearly valuable.
Servants gathered imdiately, careful and attentive to help carry them inside the house.
Inside the residence, the middle-aged female servant, whom Amara discovered three days ago was the Alpha Prince’s housekeeper, entered her room with a scroll in her hands.
The servant bowed slightly. "Lady Amara," she said, "this is His Majesty’s verdict."
Amara shifted her gaze towards her. The servant unfurled the scroll and started to read.
"By order of His Majesty, King Sebastian of the Werewolf Kingdom..." Her voice was steady and formal.
"Following the review of evidence submitted by the Human Parliant, it has been confird that Lady Amara Caldwell is the legitimate daughter of the Caldwell family, and the rightful political bride sent under the peace treaty."
Amara’s fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.
"Her identity stands verified beyond dispute. The allegations brought against her are deed false. Thus, Lady Amara Caldwell is hereby cleared of all suspicion and wrongdoing."
Amara exhaled slowly in relief, the evidence clear that her father had taken care of things from his own end.
"At the sa ti," the servant continued, "His Majesty acknowledges that Lady Amara Caldwell has suffered undue hardship during the course of this investigation."
Amara’s gaze flickered slightly.
"Therefore, a formal welco banquet shall be held in her honour two weeks from this day. Invitations will be extended to the Human Parliant, as a gesture of reconciliation between both kingdoms."
The housekeeper paused for a mont to breathe, then continued, "The Imperial Palace will oversee all preparations necessary to ensure the event is conducted with the highest honour befitting her status."
Then, she finally lowered the scroll slightly. "That is all."
Silence lingered for a mont. Amara stared ahead, processing everything, then she glanced at the housekeeper.
"Are you done reading?" she asked. "Is that all?"
The servant nodded. "Yes."
A slight frown appeared on Amara’s face. The servant noticed imdiately and asked carefully, "Is sothing wrong, Lady Amara? Were you expecting sothing else?"
Amara held her gaze for a second. "Is there no apology from the King?"
The servant blinked, clearly taken aback. For a brief mont, she didn’t respond. Then she composed herself.
"The Imperial family does not offer verbal apologies, worth more the King," she said.
Amara’s brows drew together. "So I’m just anyone?" she asked quietly. "I was locked in a dungeon, beaten and treated like a criminal."
Her voice didn’t rise, but the weight behind it was clear. "And now that I’ve been proven innocent, I don’t even get an apology?"
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