The next evening arrived too quietly.
That usually meant something terrible was waiting.
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the black suit again, while Father leaned against the doorframe with the kind of calm only dangerous men mastered.
He looked at me.
Then, I saw the silver dagger hidden beneath my jacket.
Then back at me.
"Meeting royalty?"
I adjusted the cuff.
"Something worse."
Father nodded like that made perfect sense.
Because somehow, in this house, it did.
Mother was downstairs trying to convince herself that this was a normal business dinner.
Kavya had already declared it either a proposal or a murder invitation.
Riya believed both were equally romantic.
Ananya had stopped asking questions and started preparing legal defence strategies.
Honestly, I appreciated her realism.
Father stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
That meant serious conversation.
Interesting.
He folded his arms.
"House Celestine."
Not a question.
A statement.
I looked at him.
"You know them."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Everyone in the wrong world knows them."
That was not comforting.
He walked to the window.
The city lights reflected in the glass.
"When I was younger, before I met your mother…"
He paused.
"I was invited to stand before Alaric Celestine."
That got my attention.
Father rarely talked about that life.
The former hunter.
The man who had walked through blood and chosen peace.
He continued.
"I was strong enough to survive the invitation."
He looked back at me.
"Not everyone is."
Comforting.
Very comforting.
I smiled faintly.
"Should I be worried?"
Father actually laughed.
"Yes."
Fair.
He reached into his pocket and placed something on the desk.
An old silver ring.
Simple.
Elegant.
Ancient.
The moment I looked at it, I felt power.
Old power.
The kind that waited quietly.
"This belonged to your grandfather."
He said.
"Human grandfather. Not vampire royalty."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You're making an important distinction."
"You'll need it tonight."
He picked up the ring and handed it to me.
"It reminds me of something."
I took it.
"What?"
Father's eyes held mine.
"That a man should know exactly who he is before standing in front of people who think they can define him."
Silence.
Then I nodded.
Good advice.
Dangerously good advice.
I put the ring on.
It fit perfectly.
Father stepped back toward the door.
Then stopped.
Without turning, he said—
"If they ask you to kneel…"
His voice was calm.
Deadly calm.
"Make sure the floor breaks first."
Then he left.
I stood there for a long moment.
Honestly—
I had inherited excellent people and terrible life choices from my parents.
Perfect.
The Celestine estate stood outside the city as something time had forgotten.
Not a mansion.
A kingdom pretending to be a house.
Ancient stone walls.
Black iron gates.
Gardens too perfect to trust.
And silence.
The kind of silence only existed in places where power no longer needed noise.
The driver opened the car door.
I stepped out alone.
No Seraphina.
No Selene.
No Lilith.
This meeting was not for comfort.
It was for judgement.
At the entrance stood rows of servants in perfect stillness.
Not servants.
Observers.
Everything here is watched.
A woman in black approached.
Older.
Elegant.
Her posture could probably intimidate governments.
She bowed slightly.
"Mr Malhotra."
Not warm.
Not cold.
Professional.
"His Lordship is waiting."
His Lordship.
Nice.
Very dramatic.
I followed her through endless halls lined with portraits of people who had definitely caused historical disasters.
The air itself felt old.
Every step reminded me—
This family had ruled long before modern laws existed.
At the end of the final corridor stood two enormous doors.
They opened slowly.
Inside—
a private chamber.
No throne.
Because truly powerful men did not need obvious symbols.
Just one chair near the fireplace.
And one man was sitting there.
Lord Alaric Celestine.
Silver hair touched with age, but not weakness.
Sharp eyes.
Calm posture.
Simple black suit.
No crown.
He did not need one.
Some men wore power so naturally that crowns felt unnecessary.
He looked at me once.
Only once.
And somehow, it felt like being weighed by history itself.
He gestured to the chair across from him.
"Sit."
Of course.
Everyone loved that word.
I sat.
He poured tea.
Not wine.
Interesting.
He handed me a cup.
No shaking hands.
No hesitation.
Good.
His voice was deep.
Quiet.
The kind that made rooms listen.
"My granddaughter likes you."
Straight to the point.
I respected that.
"I'm starting to suspect she enjoys threatening people."
A pause.
Then—
Alaric laughed.
A real laugh.
Unexpected.
Good.
That meant he appreciated honesty.
"She gets that from her grandmother."
That sounded like future danger.
He sipped his tea.
Then his eyes sharpened.
Instantly.
The room changed.
No warmth.
Only pressure.
"You carry old blood."
Not a question.
I answered honestly.
"Yes."
He nodded once.
"And you refuse to kneel."
Also, not a question.
"Yes."
Another nod.
Then silence.
Heavy.
Measured.
He studied me like a general deciding whether I was a weapon or a problem.
Probably both.
Finally, he asked—
"Do you know what House Celestine protects?"
I considered the obvious answers.
Power.
Money.
Influence.
Secrets.
But obvious answers were usually wrong.
So I said—
"Control."
His eyes changed.
Interesting.
Approval.
Slight.
But real.
He set the tea down.
"Civilisation is a thin performance, Aarav."
His voice remained calm.
"Governments change."
"Kings die."
"Empires collapse."
"But monsters…"
His gaze locked onto mine.
"…remain."
The fire beside us cracked softly.
He continued.
"My family does not rule the world."
He paused.
"We prevent worse things from ruling it."
That—
I believed.
Because truly powerful families never described themselves as villains.
They described themselves as necessary.
Sometimes they were both.
Alaric leaned back.
"And now my granddaughter tells me the old king's bloodline has awakened."
His eyes did not blink.
"So tell me."
The real test.
Finally.
His voice lowered.
"When the world burns…"
Silence.
Pure.
Absolute.
"…will you rule it?"
There it was.
Not can you.
Will you?
The question of kings.
I looked at the fire.
At the old monster across from me.
At the path waiting ahead.
And I smiled.
Slowly.
Coldly.
Honestly.
"If the world burns…"
I met his eyes.
"I won't rule the ashes."
His gaze sharpened.
I continued.
"I'll decide what survives the fire."
Silence.
Then—
Lord Alaric Celestine smiled.
Not politely.
Not warmly.
Like a king recognising another one.
"Good."
He stood.
And somehow the room itself felt smaller.
"Because I have no interest in weak men marrying my bloodline."
Well.
That was direct.
I appreciated efficiency.
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Without looking back, he said—
"Tomorrow, you will meet my wife."
A pause.
And for the first time tonight—
I felt actual danger.
Even Alaric sounded respectful.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
He added one final sentence.
"The queen above thrones decides what even kings are allowed to keep."
Then he left.
And for the first time since entering the estate—
I understood something important.
Meeting the King Above Kings…
had only been the easy part.