Morning inside the Crimson Church felt like waking up inside a threat politely disguised as architecture.
White marble.
Silver sunlight.
Holy silence.
And somewhere beyond those expensive walls—
People were still deciding whether I deserved to exist.
Honestly?
Rude.
I stood on the balcony outside the guest chamber, adjusting my cuffs while the city stretched beyond the cathedral grounds like a promise pretending to be peaceful.
Last night had changed something.
Not politics.
Not the trial.
Something quieter.
More dangerous.
I had stopped resisting.
The blood bond with my queens no longer felt like chains.
It felt like home.
Terrifying realisation. It
Very inconvenient.
Behind me—
soft footsteps.
Not one.
Four.
Of course.
Because apparently, privacy was still a myth blessed by Heaven itself.
Valeria arrived first, carrying coffee and bad intentions.
Seraphina followed with elegant judgement.
Selene brought moonlight and silent criticism.
Lilith entered last because queens believed timing was a weapon.
Reasonable.
Very reasonable.
Valeria handed me coffee.
"I considered poisoning this."
I accepted it.
"Love is beautiful."
She smiled.
"I know."
Seraphina stood beside me and looked at the sunrise.
"The tribunal reconvenes in one hour."
There it was.
Back to war.
Selene crossed her arms.
"The old priest is already trying to force execution."
Predictable.
People who lacked imagination always loved execution.
Lilith leaned against the doorway.
Royal calm.
"He is afraid."
I looked at her.
"Of me?"
She shook her head.
"No."
A pause.
"Of being wrong."
That—
was much more dangerous.
Because fear of monsters created hunters.
Fear of doubt created fanatics.
Father had been right.
Righteous men were exhausting.
I sipped the coffee.
Good.
Strong.
Suspiciously peaceful.
"I assume the plan is still not 'burn the cathedral immediately'."
Valeria looked offended.
"I offered that plan sincerely."
Seraphina answered before anyone else could encourage her.
"After the trial."
Fair compromise.
I appreciated maturity.
Then—
The mark near my neck pulsed.
Once.
Hard.
Not from my wives.
Something else.
Ancient.
Calling.
The throne.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I closed my eyes.
And felt it.
Deep beneath the cathedral.
Below the Church.
Below the holy lies.
Something old.
Waiting.
Watching.
Hungry.
I opened my eyes slowly.
Lilith noticed immediately.
"What is it?"
I looked toward the cathedral floor.
"There's something beneath this place."
Silence.
Even Valeria stopped smiling.
Good sign.
Probably.
Elena's voice came from the doorway behind us.
"Yes."
Of course.
Because apparently dramatic entrances were contagious.
We turned.
She stood there in white and crimson, no longer only a saint but a woman carrying history like a second spine.
Her crimson eyes met mine.
"The original throne chamber."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Seraphina's expression hardened.
"The Church built over it?"
Elena nodded once.
"Not to honour it."
Her voice lowered.
"To imprison it."
That felt accurate.
Humans did love putting dangerous truths underground and calling it safety.
I folded my arms.
"And today was going too well."
Elena stepped closer.
"The tribunal will not decide your fate upstairs."
She looked directly into my eyes.
"The real judgement happens below."
There it was.
The true trial.
Not politics.
Blood.
Recognition.
Legacy.
Perfect.
I smiled faintly.
"Wonderful. I was worried this would be emotionally manageable."
Valeria looked delighted.
"I love when he gets like this."
Of course she did.
Elena continued.
"The old priest wants public execution."
"The tribunal wants control."
"But the throne…"
She paused.
"It remembers kings."
Her gaze sharpened.
"And it decides."
Selene's voice remained calm.
"If it rejects him?"
Silence.
Bad sign.
Elena answered honestly.
"He dies."
Excellent.
Very motivating.
I nodded slowly.
"So success remains emotionally expensive."
Lilith stepped forward.
"No."
Her crimson eyes held mine.
"You are not going alone."
Elena shook her head.
"The throne chamber allows only the claimant."
Seraphina immediately looked like she was preparing for religious destruction.
"No."
Simple.
Elegant.
Violently clear.
Elena met her gaze.
"It is older than clan law."
Valeria crossed her arms.
"I dislike ancient rules."
Selene added softly—
"I dislike all rules that inconvenience me."
Amazing women.
Perfect.
I almost felt bad for Heaven.
Almost.
I looked at them.
At the queens who had somehow become the centre of every decision I made.
And I understood something important.
Lucian had chosen sacrifice.
Maybe because he thought kings were supposed to stand alone.
I would not repeat that mistake.
Not exactly.
I stepped toward Seraphina first.
Touched her hand.
The bond pulsed.
Warm.
Alive.
Then Selene.
Moonlight stands steady beneath quiet fear.
Then Lilith.
Royal calm hiding something much softer.
Then Valeria.
Fire pretending not to care.
I looked at all four of them.
And said—
"If I go below…"
My voice lowered.
"…I go carrying all of you with me."
Not metaphor.
Truth.
The bond answered instantly.
All four marks burnt.
Recognition.
Power.
Connection.
The air itself changed.
Even Elena stepped back slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Lilith whispered—
"The throne feels it."
Seraphina's voice was softer.
Rare.
"Then come back."
Not a request.
Prayer disguised as a command.
Selene added—
"Preferably alive."
Valeria smirked.
"And preferably still attractive."
Priorities.
Excellent.
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
Because somehow—
This was absurd.
Holy trials.
Ancient thrones.
Reincarnated kings.
And the only thing that mattered was returning to the people waiting upstairs.
Good.
That felt right.
Then the cathedral bells rang.
Deep.
Heavy.
Judgement.
Elena straightened.
"It is time."
Of course it was.
I adjusted my jacket.
Checked Father's blade.
Breathed once.
And followed her through the white halls of Heaven.
Not toward trial.
Toward memory.
Toward the place where kings were either crowned
or buried.
At the end of the final corridor—
massive silver doors.
Ancient symbols.
Blood older than language.
The old priest waited there, already looking disappointed by my continued existence.
Wonderful.
He spoke coldly.
"If the throne rejects you, history ends here."
I smiled politely.
"If the throne accepts me, I assume your day gets worse."
His silence was satisfying.
The doors opened.
Darkness waited below.
Stone stairs descending into history.
Into blood.
Into the heart of everything.
I stepped forward.
No fear.
Only certainty.
Because for the first time—
I understood what the throne would hear.
Not ambition.
Not hunger.
Not power.
A heartbeat.
A king's heartbeat.
And it was not beating for a crown.
It was beating for home.
Let Heaven hear that.
Let history judge it.
I was done apologising for wanting both love and power.
If that made me dangerous—
good.
Kings should be.
And somewhere beneath the cathedral—
Something ancient smiled.