Elysium: Desired by the Cold-hearted Princess [GL]-Chapter 330: Protecting her

Third-person POV

King Vale sat slouched on the high throne with one hand steadily pressing against the side of his head. The pounding headache that had plagued him for days was refusing to ease in the slightest, and no matter how many deep breaths he drew or how tightly he shut his eyes, it only seemed to keep getting worse and worse.

The throne room was quiet, which would typically bring him peace, but at the moment, not even this could bring him any peace. The silence only worsened the storm in his mind.

It had been days since the disaster at the Revernyn tournament, and still he couldn’t believe what had happened. One moment, Electra had been her usual self, composed, sharp-eyed, and too reckless for her own good, but at the same time, still ordinary enough to pass for a normal human who was simply playing a game like her peers.

But then the next minute, right in front of hundreds of people who had visited from across all seven kingdoms, she had changed. Her form had shifted, fire lacing through her skin, markings spreading across her body, and her very presence screaming phoenix.

He could still hear the gasps and the murmurs spreading like wildfire through the stands, as well as the way the entire crowd had leaned forward at once, stunned into utter silence. He could still see Electra collapsing in the middle of it all, her body hitting the ground with a lifeless thud, and then nothing.

She had gone completely cold after changing like that and hadn’t woken up since.

He rubbed his temples harder, trying to calm the ache in his skull. He didn’t understand what had triggered the transformation or why she had fainted immediately after. All he knew was that the daughter he had hidden and the truth he had buried for two decades had been dragged into the open for all the world to see, and just like he had expected, the world was merciless.

The kingdom hasn’t stopped speaking his name since the incident, and if there was one thing that was very consistent with everything that they had said, it was their utter disgust for him. As far as they were concerned, their king had committed the ultimate sin: he had broken the law meant to protect the bloodlines of both humans and deities. He had lain with a phoenix and gotten her pregnant.

Now they were calling him a liar, a traitor to the throne, and worse; they were feeding into the manipulation from Jella, who was trying to make sure that she didn’t go down with him.

He clenched his jaw at the thought, hating how they all believed that he had forced her to raise Electra as her own because she was barren. They thought he had humiliated her, shamed her, and used her as a shield to hide his mistake. He knew Jella well enough to know she was letting the story spread unchecked, playing the victim while twisting the council of elders around her finger. She wanted him weakened and wanted him totally cornered.

The problem wasn’t just that his people were calling for him to step down. The problem was that their cries had turned bloodthirsty, and it had unfortunately gotten to the point where they wanted Electra killed. They called her an abomination, proof that their king had tainted the crown and dirtied the royal bloodline.

Vale’s hand slipped from his temple to his chin, his nails digging faintly into his beard. The headache still pulsed, but anger began to drown it out.

The last thing he would ever do was allow them to kill his child. Never. Electra was his daughter. She was fire born of fire, his flesh, his blood, his mistake, but besides all of that, she was also his legacy. He would not let her die because of him, but protection came with a price.

He could only shield her as long as he was king, because the second he lost his throne, she would be theirs to tear apart, but he would not let that happen. He would not let Jella and her council lapdogs strip him of the crown, not when he still had strength left in him.

His thoughts drifted bitterly to Hunter, his half-brother. Younger, less experienced, and utterly unworthy, and somehow, with how everything had blown up even more over the last couple of days, Jella had managed to strongly and almost permanently cement his name with the elders, painting him as the ideal replacement, the perfect and unstained puppet king. Someone they could control, and someone who would bow to their plans while keeping the crown warm.

Vale’s fists tightened against the throne. Over his dead body would he allow them to have their way with his throne.

The sound of footsteps broke through his spiraling thoughts. The doors to the throne room creaked open, and one of his advisors slipped in, bowing low. Vale didn’t even lift his head at first, as he was already too tired to perform the ceremony of power.

"Your Majesty," the advisor said carefully, his voice tight as he was clearly about to deliver bad news. "The council has gathered again, and they insist you address the people before the week ends. They demand... a decision."

Vale’s teeth ground together. "A decision," he repeated flatly.

"Yes, Your Majesty. They say the people won’t rest until they hear it from your own mouth. Whether you step down... or whether you allow judgment to fall on the girl."

The advisor’s words echoed across the empty chamber, each one a nail in his skull. Step down, or sacrifice his child. Those were the choices the council wanted him boxed into.

Vale slowly raised his head, his eyes cold and stern now. "Tell them neither will happen."

The advisor hesitated. "Sire..."

"Neither," Vale repeated, his voice harder. "I will not step down, and I will not let them touch her. She is under my protection."

The man bowed lower, not bothering to argue any further even though Vale already knew what he was thinking. That the words were bold, but bold words alone couldn’t silence a kingdom full of anger.

Still, Vale would not bend. When the advisor finally left, the room fell back into silence, and Vale leaned back against the throne, the rage in his chest barely contained. His headache still pulsed, but now it was fueled by rage rather than doubt.

He thought of Electra again, lying unconscious somewhere hidden, her body caught between life and death. He knew the moment she woke up, she would have to deal with being permanently ostracized for what she was, and it was all his fault.

His people called her an abomination, but to him, she was his daughter, and he would burn the kingdom to ash before he let them take her from him.