The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride-Chapter 255: The Fae Crown Prince and His Concubines.

After the exchange of formal greetings, so annoyingly ritualistic and cold, Ren took her place beside Kai. Her gaze wandered briefly over the long table where they were expected to dine. They set the table with ornate silverware, crystal goblets, plates gilded with ancient runes... and seated across them, two Fae women who hadn’t stopped staring at her.

Concubines, she realized. Their beauty was sculpted to flawlessness, but their eyes held nothing but smug curiosity, like she was a rare animal brought in for show.

Discomfort prickled beneath her skin, and she immediately linked her thoughts to Kai.

"This is stupidly awkward. He came to greet us with his concubines."

Kai’s amused voice echoed in her mind.

"It’s nothing compared to how boring he can be."

Ren stifled a snort, lifting her goblet only to hide her expression. Gods, this realm was exhausting.

Just as she leaned toward her husband just a bit to whisper something else in his mind, Lucieth’s voice rang through the tension like a dish dropping on the floor.

"Tell me, King Benkin," he said, his tone silky and deceptively polite, "Why did you let your vampire son live?"

The table froze. The maiden who was helping the King to eat his soup put the spoon down.

All gazes turned toward the old King. Benkin, unfazed, slowly raised his eyes to meet Lucieth’s, his voice was steady.

"Because he is my son," he said simply. "And I didn’t know that. Have you ever seen a father who would gladly put his own child to the sword?"

A strange silence followed. Then, Lucieth smiled. But it was the kind of smile that did not reach the eyes.

"Yes," he replied softly, "My father let me kill his son."

Hector gritted his teeth, the blood in the goblet tasted bitter, and a muscle was ticking in his jaw. He wanted this twisted dinner to end, but something about Lucieth gnawed at him. This man, this crown prince cloaked in elegance and cruelty, looked down on them as if they were filth beneath his boots. Why? What was buried beneath that cold disdain?

King Benkin’s voice broke the silence again, low and resolute.

"Your brother slaughtered Fae riders, butchered dragons, and stole sacred relics. My son has committed no such crimes, at least, not yet. If he does... I trust his sister will judge him, once I am gone."

The words struck Hector with a pang. His sister? Would Ren truly judge him? Still, he couldn’t resist cutting in with a sardonic tone.

"Are we here just to talk about death and the dead?" He chimed in.

Lucieth’s eyes glinted like frozen metal.

"Yes," he replied flatly. "That’s exactly why we’re here."

For a moment, a chilling silence hung like frost in the air. Then, the tension shifted as one of Lucieth’s concubines, the one with midnight-black hair and haunting amber eyes, gently reached for his hand.

"My darling," she said, her voice like the brush of silk across bare skin, melodic and unearthly, "perhaps you should be a little gentler. You’re frightening our guests."

It was no wonder he had chosen her. Even her presence was disarming.

Dinner carried on under a strained silence, the kind that could shatter with a whisper. No one laughed. No one truly spoke. Even the sound of cutlery against porcelain seemed too loud in that hall.

At last, when the final plate had been cleared, the royal butler approached Ren and Kai with a solemn bow.

"Tomorrow will be the judgment day," he said, his voice quiet, and solid.

The moment he walked away, Ren’s heart clenched painfully. Her stomach twisted with dread, and a cold numbness wrapped around her ribs.

So... tomorrow they would kill her father.

In their chamber, Ren couldn’t sit still. Her footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor as she paced, arms folded, breath uneven.

Kai finally caught her arm, halting her restless movement.

"Stop," he said gently but firmly, eyes brimming with concern.

"They’re going to kill my father, and I can’t save him," she burst out, her voice cracking under the weight of helplessness.

Kai cupped her face.

"Wife, we cannot save everyone." He paused, his gaze steady, meeting her eyes.

"Don’t forget how much pain he’s enduring right now. Maybe this is what he wants, a dignified end, not more suffering."

Ren bit her lower lip. It was true. She had seen how frail her once-unbreakable father had become. He had always been the storm, the sword, the sovereign, and now he was withering before her eyes.

But her heart still rebelled.

"Can we meet the Fae King right now? You know where he is. I want to deliver my mother’s message."

Kai nodded. "If it calms you, we’ll find him."

With a flick of his hand, he conjured a shadow portal, fluid and quiet like smoke unraveling in the air. Ren hesitated. The paths of shadow were dangerous, especially when used too often. Lucieth had warned her... and she had ignored him more than once.

Still, her need outweighed her fear. She clutched Kai’s arm, and together they stepped through.

When they emerged, the world changed. The air smelled of lilacs and wild mint. They stood in a garden, not just beautiful, but ethereal, lit by glowing faeries flitting like stars around a crystalline spring. Petals of every color drifted in the air as though time here was slower, or kinder.

"The Fae King lives in this place?" Ren asked in awe.

The building ahead was carved from pale stone, elegant in its simplicity. It gleamed beneath the starlit sky like moonlight made solid.

"These are... fairies," she whispered, enchanted.

Kai chuckled, his voice warm.

"Yes, little wife. You’re in Griffin territory now."

Ren smiled faintly. So this is where Ogain was born. The serenity of the forest, the softness of its breeze, the shimmer of life in every leaf, soothed her nerves like a lullaby.

Before they could knock, the grand door creaked open on its own.

"Come in, my darling. I was expecting you," a calm, ancient voice beckoned from within.

Kai snorted and stepped back.

"You go. I’m not invited."

Ren hesitated, frowning. Part of her longed for Kai’s company. But perhaps... The King simply wished for a private audience, a moment between grandfather and granddaughter.

Still, the unease lingered.

She stepped inside and stopped. Her eyes swept across a room filled not with gold and glory, but books, shelves of ancient tomes, scrolls, and relics. Magical artifacts glinted from polished glass cabinets. An hourglass ticked in reverse. Was this a study?

Or... a sanctuary of memories?