The grand doors of the Throne Room suddenly creaked open. Every conversation and flicker of movement stopped. A familiar silhouette stepped into view. Vastarael Richinaria, the Dynasty Monarch of Richinaria, stood beneath the massive doorway. Everyone except his siblings instinctively bowed their heads.
Vastarael wore a deep dark turtleneck that clung neatly to his frame and white sweatpants. His long white hair, now slightly disheveled from a recent flight across continents, somehow looked natural to him. The moment he stepped in, one could feel the Enlightenment on him.
It was the Second Enlightenment Divinity.
Vastarael lowered himself into his throne. His legs crossed loosely, his arm resting on the carved crystal of the throne's edge. His gaze scanned the room once more, now with a trace of irritation playing at the corner of his mouth.
"So, this is the emergency Milliania said was urgent?"
The House leaders shifted in their seats, some awkwardly and others humbly. House Landle cleared his throat but said nothing. Alexis Sarphie, who had looked nearly crushed beneath the judgment of Anamorsia a moment ago, now looked like someone who had seen a ghost. Even Hipel lowered his eyes, the weight of his kneeling earlier made heavier by the unexpected arrival. Still seated, Vastarael exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers once on the throne's arm.
"I thought we were dealing with a breach or another financial issue. But no, it's just old blood trying to crawl back into a house it abandoned."
The quiet was suffocating. Everyone felt his disappointment. And yet strangely, his presence also offered order. He was not like Anamorsia, who ruled with razor-sharp verdicts. He ruled with understanding but that didn't mean mercy. As he leaned slightly back, his eyes still on those who had once turned their backs on Richinaria, every soul in the room knew the dynamic had shifted. Anamorsia may have held court but Vastarael was the court now. The Four House leaders were relieved because no matter what he decided, one truth remained solid as the throne beneath him. Vastarael Richinaria had taken his time out of training to deal with this issue. The room had never felt safer... or more judged.
He scoffed.
"Well, well, if it isn't Alexis Sarphie. Hey there. Elyonari hates you so much, you know this right?"
Vastarael shifted his gaze, landing on the man beside Alexis. His voice was still quiet, but it slashed through the hall.
"Hipel Sarphie, why did you come back?"
The entire throne room turned their heads toward the Patriarch of House Sarphie, who was now standing upright, stiff as if pierced by ice. His lips parted but words stumbled on his tongue.
"I—I..."
Vastarael raised a single gloved hand. A small sapphire shard formed around his fingertips.
"Lie and I will kill your wife and child in front of you. I will do it so slowly that will make every second of your betrayal echo for generations in Sarphie blood."
Gasps rang out from the gallery but none dared interfere. Not when the Dynasty Monarch was serious. Hipel's face collapsed into agony as he dropped to his knees.
"We… have nowhere else to go. We were exiled by the Elves, stripped of land, title, dignity—"
"And that's supposed to be my problem?"
Vastarael cut in coldly, leaning forward on one armrest of his throne. His tone didn't rise in anger. It lowered into a disgust so serene it turned his voice into poison.
"You betrayed the family. Your ancestors served Richinaria for millennia. They died with the Richinaria emblem etched into their bones and what did you do? You threw it all away for love, wasn't it?"
He gave a breath of a scoff, his lip curling.
"You left because you believed love meant turning your back on honor. And now that you've been spat out by those elven elitists, now you want to return?"
Hipel kept silent. There was nothing he could say. Vastarael leaned back against the throne. He clasped his hands together.
"You're lucky. Your ancestors were strong. Sarphie wasn't just a healer. He was the most powerful mortal healer. He was the only man who could regenerate flesh from ash. He was valuable and you? All I see is rusted blood and wasted name. In my eyes, you're as useless a a Fourth Star Healing Circle. And that's saying a lot since all mages in Levenees are at the Seventh Star and above."
He paused before he tilted his head toward the floor at his right.
"Teyali."
At once, a soft but swift presence stepped forward. The Fox Therianthrope who he had taken as his wife, her nine tails tucked respectfully low, her fur-lined robes flowing around her graceful frame came to kneel before the Monarch without hesitation.
"Esteeed Highness."
Vastarael looked down at her not cruelly, but with a kind of distance that felt colder than disdain.
"Did you know?"
She lifted her golden gaze toward his with full honesty. "Yes. I did."
"And?"
She lowered her head slightly. "I didn't like it but I believed that all Dynasties were the same. That bloodlines must remain pure, and that hybrids were not… honored."
A single chuckle left him.
"My father has three wives. One is Hydroborn, two who were once human. My beloveds are of different races too. One is an Aeterium. Another is a Celestial descendant. One more has elven blood in her veins."
He rose slowly, his stature looming despite the simple clothes he wore.
"And everyone in the world knows this. The Richinarias were the first to sanction love between races. They were the first to make hybrids acceptable. We taught other Dynasties that love transcends biology. We are the reason you can even say the word 'hybrid' without being executed."
His tone darkened.
"I am a hybrid. My siblings are hybrids. And yet you ran from this house in the name of love, knowing we are the only Dynasty that honors love more than blood."
He took a step forward.
"So I ask you again, Patriarch Hipel Sarphie, why did you leave?"