我洗碗时在厨房要了我

Chapter 132  A Prisoner

"Maribelle!" Ophelia perked up at the familiar sight of the tall and proud woman.

Maribelle turned, finishing her conversation with one of the packmen. She rushed over with a bright grin on her face. "Do you smell what's for dinner? I bet it's my favorite stew! You must eat beside me today, I can show you how to best eat it."

Ophelia laughed at Maribelle's excitement. Out of all the things to talk about, food was her priority. Something about Maribelle always seemed to cheer Ophelia up. Maribelle linked their arms together, taking them straight to the dining hall.

"W-where is Killorn?" Ophelia asked, unable to see him all day. "In a meeting," Maribelle huffed. "I saw the royal family's raven flying towards his window. I bet there's urgent news."

Ophelia stopped. She could hear loud chatter and laughter creep from the dining hall doors. People were beginning to get their supper, but her husband was still preoccupied. That was fine, for he always made sure his people were fed before he was. But that wasn't the most startling news. The royal family was communicating with Killorn? Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"I know that look," Maribelle mused. "I was just going to suggest the perfect plan!"

Ophelia nervously smiled. "W-was it that obvious?"

Maribelle snorted. "Great minds think alike. So, let's go!"

"G-go where?" Ophelia feigned ignorance.

Maribelle snickered, revealing a large, mischievous smile that reached her shimmering eyes. Under the flicker of the lanterns and torches, she appeared even more wicked. "To eavesdrop on the conversation, of course!" she whispered, whisking the two of them upstairs.

Ophelia was burdened with their actions, but excited by the idea of a secret between them. She didn't have a lot of friends growing up. The idea of inside jokes and secrets fluttered through her chest. Her steps grew light, her heart skipping the closer they got to his study. She felt like the heroine in her favorite books, daring and adventurous.

"Shh," Maribelle placed a finger on her lip when they approached the door. They remained by the side, not wanting anything to be detectable. Maribelle placed her ears against the door's surface, but her brows scrunched together.

Ophelia knew eavesdropping on them would be impossible. These walls were thicker than needed. Killorn must've fortified his study to ensure no one would ever be able to listen inside. Especially with his outbursts lately. Ophelia wouldn't be surprised if he enlisted in Reagan's help.

And sure enough, Maribelle turned back to Ophelia with a dejected pout. If Maribelle's werewolf senses couldn't pick up on the conversation, then nothing would. Then, an idea came to Ophelia's mind.

Ophelia wasn't sure it'd work, but she hoped so. She placed her palm upon the wooden surface, realizing that if it was magic that Reagan used, then maybe, there was a way to counter it. She knew her novice magic would never be able to budge Reagan's ancient spells, but a part of her was hopeful.

"Hmm…" Maribelle observed curiously. Ophelia closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but she pictured herself being able to hear them. Pictured her consciousness slipping through the thick doors. She imagined Killorn's voices seeping through the cracks. She saw herself cutting an opening in Reagan's powerful spells.

Then, Ophelia heard it.

Low, barely tolerable whispers.

"...hand her over."

Ophelia concentrated harder, feeling herself break out in a sweat. From behind, she heard Maribelle's sharp intake. Heat rolled from her body, as she focused entirely on the voices inside.

"--all magicians have marked property of the royal family, and considering Ophelia's performance the night of the ambush, they've deemed her a witch. They believe she is royal property."

Was that… Gerald?

Ophelia could picture Gerald's frustrated and troubled expression. She could even see his silhouette, legs spread and arms crossed in defense.

"Like hell she is," Killorn snarled, startling Ophelia. "You think I'd let the royal f*ckards decide her fate, marking her for death or life as they deem fit?"

"Uhm, I'm right here, you know."

Everest…?

Ophelia tensed, wondering how he was able to come here. What was happening? She didn't even know he was present. "It's not my choice," Everest sighed, his presence proud as usual, but with a hint of defeat and irritation. "The King will issue that degree soon. And he will order a hunt to get back his possession."

"And I'll behead anyone that sets foot on Mavez lands," Killorn wagered. "Take your pick. I do not care."

"You still don't understand!" Everest growled, throwing his hands up. "Your display at the empire has sparked a civil war! Murdering your own and then ripping the heads off of vampire lords, how have you not realized what you've done?"

Ophelia gulped.

"And not to mention Ophelia!" Everest shouted, losing his patience. "A mere human girl killing vampires and werewolves? Do you know what people are calling? There are protests inside the capitol! They're demanding her death. Many households have come together to put an astronomical bounty on her head. It won't be long before they come knocking at your doors. And trust me, no one in this entire Dukedom will be able to protect her more than the royal family can."

Silence engulfed the entire hallway and room.

Everest was nowhere near done. "Word has already traveled far and wide about Ophelia's magic. Many are preparing to attack your castle. They won't give her a merciful death. And if it is not death they grant her, then it is torture. Foreign delegates arrived at the castle doors this morning. Ophelia will either be kidnapped, tortured, drained, or murdered."

Killorn laughed. The cruelest of sounds. Devoid of life and warmth. Twisted was his expression, haunted was his gaze. He bore the expression of a man ready to take on the world for a single woman. Ready to slay and slaughter anyone who'd cross his path.

"There is only one way to end this madness," Everest reasoned. "Hand her to us. We will plead on her behalf. We will tell the people that the royal family can control her. She will never run amok again, she—"

"She will be a prisoner within your walls," Killorn finished.

"She will be safe," Everest corrected. "And she should be consulted in this matter." Ophelia threw the doors open, revealing her furious expression. How dare they decide her fate for her?