Chapter 312: Whispers, Wondering, and the Play That No One Asked For
Chapter 312: Whispers, Wondering, and the Play That No One Asked For
Elyn’s POV
I just looked at Velira.
For a long moment, I didn’t say anything. I simply stared at her.
Then I gave a suffocated nod.
It was the best I could manage. My throat felt tight, my brain was still processing the absurdity of everything that had happened in the past few minutes, and I honestly didn’t trust myself to speak without saying something stupid like, "Oh, you forging Seraphielle’s stamp is so brilliant. Why don’t you teach me to do it also?"
Yeah... it was better I kept quiet.
Velira beamed.
She moved closer to me, her small feet padding against the floor, and then she gestured for me to lean down. Her expression had shifted from proud to conspiratorial, like she was about to share a secret that would change everything.
I frowned.
What exactly was this child about to tell me?
But despite my better judgment, despite every instinct that was screaming at me to maintain my distance, I was curious. I always had been. It was one of my many flaws.
So I leaned down.
Velira’s breath was warm against my ear as she whispered, "Perhaps now you will give my mother a chance?"
I pulled back, frowning.
"What do you mean?" I asked her in a whisper too.
Velira’s smile widened.
"The seal," she said, gesturing at her pocket where the parchment now rested. "It shows just how powerful my mama is. Even with it being forged, I can use these establishments freely. Doesn’t that prove that you should give her a chance?" She paused. "You’ll be able to enjoy this freely. All of it. If you give her a chance."
I stared at her.
The logic didn’t quite track. The seal didn’t prove anything about Seraphielle’s character — only her power. And the seal was forged. It was a fake. A very good fake, but a fake nonetheless.
But at least I could put aside any doubt that Velira had another hidden motive.
She genuinely wanted me to give her mother a chance. And just remembering how Seraphielle licked her lips whenever she saw me... I shuddered. I could not give that demon a chance at all, especially not romantically.
"The document is forged," I said instead.
Velira nodded.
"Even with it being forged, it has power," she said. "That’s what matters."
I shook my head.
Then I straightened and decided not to answer her.
I didn’t have the energy to explain why her logic was flawed, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that a forged document wouldn’t make me fall for her mother.
I turned to Aziren, who was currently tugging at my dress.
"What is it?" I asked him.
He looked up at me with an expression of genuine concern.
"Where is His Majesty?" he asked.
I exhaled.
That was a good question.
I had been so caught up in the chaos of finding the children that I had almost forgotten about Zorathys.
He was still missing.
"We’re going to find him," I said.
I turned to the bracelet on my wrist, expecting the familiar light to pulse and guide me. But nothing happened. The gems were dark, the bracelet still and silent.
I frowned.
Perhaps the bracelet only worked when I was in range of the person I was looking for? Even as I thought it, I doubted that explanation. Zorathys had said the bracelet would show me where everyone was. He hadn’t mentioned any limitations.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on it.
I picked Aziren up, settling him on my hip, and turned to the other children.
"We have to leave," I said. "We need to go find the King."
The children beamed.
All except Azerion, of course. He was frowning again, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression carrying that familiar note of defiance.
But he didn’t argue.
We walked out of the establishment together, and I was surprised to see that the line of demons that had been gathered outside was gone. The street was quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the occasional shout from somewhere far away.
I turned to the bracelet again.
Still nothing.
I frowned, but I pushed the thought aside. We would find him. Eventually.
"While we search for the King," I said, looking at the children, "we can enjoy the night. But only if you behave."
The children’s eyes lit up. They made excited noises, their bodies practically vibrating with anticipation.
"If you do not behave," I continued, "then no one is going to the palace again. And no one will see the King."
Azerion muttered something under his breath.
"I don’t want to see the King anyway," he said.
I turned to him.
"No snacks," I said.
He pouted, his lower lip jutting out, but he didn’t argue.
The children stuck close to me as we walked, their small bodies pressing against my sides, their eyes darting around the streets with curiosity and wonder. They were behaving, for once.
We walked for a few minutes, the sounds of the city growing louder around us, when Aziren pointed at something.
"That looks interesting," he said.
I frowned and turned to look at what he was pointing at.
There was a stage set up in the middle of a square, illuminated by glowing lanterns that cast warm light across the space. Demons were gathered around it, their bodies pressed together, their faces turned toward the stage with expressions of anticipation.
And on the stage, performers were moving.
It was a play... about me and Zorathys.
I recognized the costumes immediately — the red hair, the blue eyes, the gown I had worn to the introductory ball.
"I don’t want to watch this," I said.
The children ignored me.
"We want to watch," Zayrion said, his voice carrying that note of excitement.
"Please," Brixton added.
"Please, please, please," Retheris and Thalira chanted.
Azerion even nodded, his earlier defiance forgotten.
I looked at them — at their bright eyes, their eager expressions, their small bodies practically vibrating with anticipation.
And then I sighed. Let it be known I sacrificed a lot for these children.
"Fine," I said.