Chapter 49: The One-Week Wedding Countdown
Seraphel
"This is Seraphel. Your official Crown Princess.’’My heart jumped violently inside my chest. It wasn’t just the audacity of the announcement that terrified me, it was the fact that he had declared it directly in front of the Grand Council—the most ruthless, scheming villains in this entire novel.
I turned to look at him, the desperate worry written clearly across my features, but his gaze remained fixed ahead, completely ignoring me.
I wanted to scream, to make him realize that I was dying inside. With a single sentence, he had just signed my death warrant.
They were all going to kill me. Every single one of them. The venomous, predatory looks they were throwing my way made it abundantly clear that I was already a corpse in their eyes.
In that exact moment, I desperately wished he could still read my mind just so he could feel the absolute panic drowning me.
"The wedding will take place in exactly one week!" Azriel added effortlessly.
What? A week? Did my ears just malfunction?
Ignoring the sudden outburst of outraged murmurs from the council, I whipped my head toward him, my eyes wide with disbelief.
Luckily, he chose that exact moment to look down at me. "One w... wee... week?" I stammered.
He grinned, casually winding his arm around my waist and pulling my body tight against his chest. "Yes, little lotus. In one week, you will officially be the Crown Princess of the Katula Kingdom. Isn’t that ecstatic?"
Ecstatic? It’s a literal execution!
"You are sending me to an early grave," I hissed under my breath, my teeth gritted in pure fury. "I am going to die because of your arrogance, and this baby won’t even exist because of you."
Azriel’s crimson eyes widened slightly, a sudden spark of dark fascination lighting up their depths at the mention of the child. Yet, his wicked smile never wavered. He remained completely unfazed by my warning.
Before I could say another word, he turned his attention back to the ministers, who were still fiercely whispering among themselves.
"Your loud noise is distressing my dear, sweet omega," Azriel said.
He raised a hand, pointing a single, elegant finger toward the crowd. "If any of you have something to say, speak it clearly now, or forever hold your tongue so that I do not have to cut it out." He spoke in his signature soft, melodious voice, but even though the threat wasn’t directed at me, it made my blood run entirely cold, sending a violent shiver straight down my spine.
He then glanced down at me, his expression softening instantly. "Calm down, Seraphel. I can hear your rapid heartbeat and feel your terror vibrating through the bond. You have absolutely no need to be afraid. I will protect you."
The heavy assurance in his tone sounded remarkably genuine, but how could I believe him when he was the one actively throwing me into the viper’s nest?
If he really wanted to protect me, why couldn’t he just hide me away in a secluded tower until the wedding was over? Why did I have to suffer the consequences of his dramatic whims?
"I am going to die because of you," I whispered back bitterly.
"Your Highness," a prominent minister stepped forward, offering a shallow, tightly strained bow.
When he raised his head, his dark eyes locked directly onto me, burning with absolute hatred. I couldn’t help but gulp hard, my hands clenching into shaking fists against my sides.
This was the literal look of death, and it was entirely Azriel’s fault.
"Do you have something to share with the court, Lord Vaust?" Azriel asked politely.
But before Lord Vaust could even utter a single syllable, Azriel casually raised his hand, silencing him entirely. "Wait. I surely cannot be expected to listen to your grievances while standing, can I?"
"No... no, of course not, Your Highness. That would be entirely rude of me. Please, take your time to sit," Lord Vaust replied, forced to swallow his anger.
Azriel chuckled darkly. He gripped my hand, gently guiding me up the dais toward the massive crimson throne.
I automatically assumed he was going to take his seat, but instead, he firmly placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me down onto the cushions.
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. This was completely insane. I was currently sitting on Azriel’s sacred crimson throne—a seat of absolute power meant strictly for the ruler of Katula.
No one else was permitted to touch it, let alone sit upon it, yet here I was, a supposedly useless omega, occupying the highest seat in the kingdom.
"Your Highness... what the hell are you doing?" I panicked.
"I figured your legs might be aching after standing so long, and since you finished your feast only a short while ago, you need to relax for the sake of your health, little lotus," he replied smoothly.
I frowned, thoroughly bewildered. Azriel was talking like this? Since when did a literal Demon Prince become so soft and doting?
There was no way this was real. I had to be dreaming, or he was putting on an incredibly elaborate act for the court. But looking at his face, he didn’t seem to be acting at all. His smile was genuine, his crimson eyes assuring me over and over that he had everything under control.
The intensity of his actions made my heart race—not out of fear this time, but out of pure curiosity.
What did he actually want from me?
"And besides," Azriel added, his voice dropping to a low purr, "we must ensure our baby is kept perfectly comfortable."
Hearing that, the pieces of the puzzle instantly clicked together in my mind. A cold wave of reality washed over me. Of course. He was only doing all of this for the sake of the prophecy and the heir. How could a creature born from pure, unadulterated sin ever genuinely care about me?
"Your Highness! That is the sacred Crimson Throne!" Lord Vaust roared, finally snapping as he pointed an accusing finger at me. "No one is permitted to sit upon it, let alone a common omega!" The surrounding ministers quickly murmured in aggressive agreement.
"Furthermore, there is absolutely no universe in which a nameless omega should be elevated to Crown Princess!" a woman shouted, stepping forward confidently.
She was dressed in flashy, extravagant green robes adorned with heavy gold accessories. "Even if Your Highness desired an omega by your side, Concubine Eiren has faithfully served you for years. He is the one who should be standing on that dais, not this peasant!"
Another minister stepped forward, bowing deeply. "I agree entirely with Lord Vaust and Lady Mireth! This omega is completely unfit to be our Crown Princess, and he dares to desecrate your throne. We must launch a full investigation, Your Highness. He must have used forbidden dark cultivation magic to bewitch your mind!"
Dark magic?
I shifted uncomfortably on the massive, cold throne, glaring heavily at the furious crowd.
A sudden realization hit me—the names Vaust and Mireth sounded incredibly familiar. I had definitely read about Azriel’s high ministers in the original novel, but I couldn’t quite remember their exact roles in the plot yet.
Throughout the entire onslaught of insults, Azriel didn’t react. He simply stood beside the throne, watching them coldly as they hurled their complaints. He was entirely too quiet for a man of his chaotic nature, and a sinking feeling in my stomach told me he was scheming something deadly.
"Please, Your Highness! A nameless, low-born omega cannot become the face of our empire. It is an absolute disgrace to the Kingdom of Katula, which has stood proudly for millennia!" Lord Vaust barked, bowing his head once more.
The two women who had stepped forward immediately lowered their heads in unison, followed by every single minister in the grand hall.
"Your Highness, the omega cannot become the Crown Princess!" they began to chant, their voices echoing off the walls in a deafening, unified protest.