Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 581: Master The Blue Flame

Chapter 581: Master The Blue Flame

Valerie’s eyes snapped open with a startled gasp, his heart racing in his chest. He jostled up to a sitting position, disoriented and breathless, only for gentle hands to reach out, attempting to nudge him back down onto the bed. He looked around with frantic eyes, struggling to make sense of his surroundings.

"Easy, brother. Easy," a familiar voice reassured him, its tone a soothing balm to his disoriented mind.

It was Andre.

"Where am I?" Valerie tossed aside the sheet and sat up, unable to lie down anymore.

"You should calm down first," Andre told him, a concerned look in his eyes.

Yet those warnings were lost on Valerie, whose mind was already beginning to piece things together, "This is your place," Andre affirmed, recognizing his surroundings.

Valerie attempted to make a small movement, only to be met with a sharp pang of pain. He winced. "Why does my body ache? The last thing I remember is..." Valerie trailed off, his muscles tensing as the events of the day came rushing back to him in a flood of memories.

"Oh no..." Valerie’s head snapped towards Andre, a mixture of curiosity and fear flashing in his eyes. "My mother...?" He wanted to know, yet dreaded what he would discover.

Andre’s reply was impassive. "It’s been handled."

"What do you mean by ’it’s been handled’?" Valerie’s voice came out gravelly, his intuition already sensing trouble. He knew his brother well, and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that Andre had likely done something reckless.

Andre remained silent, his eyes hardening with determination instead of offering an explanation. With a resigned sigh, Valerie had no choice but to rise from the bed. Despite having had time to heal from the beating his mother had inflicted, he still throbbed in several places, evidence of the brutality of the encounter with the Fae Queen.

Approaching his brother, Valerie placed both hands firmly on Andre’s shoulders, his grip tightening. "What have you done, Andre?" he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.

"What should have been done in the first place," Andre answered, his voice devoid of emotion.

Valerie locked eyes with his brother, a realization dawning upon him. "You knew."

"If you’re referring to the abuse you endured at the hands of your mother, then yes," Andre confirmed coolly. "As the spymaster, hardly any secrets escape my notice."

Valerie shook his head, a wave of resignation washing over him. "It’s not abuse. Mother was merely disciplining me. It seems I may have made a big mistake this time."

However, Andre’s response was far from sympathetic. He laughed mirthlessly, his scowl directed at Valerie. "Seriously? You consider being beaten almost to stupor as discipline?" He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "Well, you’re nothing but a victim conditioned to defend her. I’m not surprised anyway."

Valerie’s resolve solidified as he asked again, his voice firmer, "What did you exactly do, Andre?"

Despite wracking his brain, he couldn’t recall the events clearly. All he could remember was his father’s voice at the last moment, though it felt distant and hazy, clouded by a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Andre lifted his chin defiantly. "I did nothing but invite our father and the cabinet to witness a spectacular show."

"No, you didn’t..." Valerie rasped, freezing in place as the words sank in. He staggered back, his eyes widening in shock as he stared at his brother.

"Why would you do that?" Valerie questioned in a low tone, so soft that Andre might have missed it had he not been paying attention.

"What?" Andre responded, puzzled.

"Why would you bring the cabinet to witness that moment, knowing it would put my mother in a difficult spot? Not to mention, they saw me in my lowest moment. What would they think of me now, their own crown prince beaten by his own mother for his poor choice?!" Valerie’s voice rose, a mix of anger and pain etched into his words as he shouted at his brother.

"I did it for you!" Andre’s voice boomed back, filled with frustration. "Your mother wields immense power, and this was the only way to expose her crimes. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to witness her mistreatment of you and do nothing? Wake up, Valerie! This wasn’t discipline; it was abuse! Your mother is a bully and a tyrant!"

Closing the distance between them, Andre’s gaze bore into Valerie’s, his tone fierce. "I did what was necessary to protect my brother! My younger brother! What kind of sibling would I be if I couldn’t protect you?"

The raw intensity of Andre’s words left Valerie stunned, his mouth agape as he processed the gravity of his brother’s actions. With emotions swirling inside him, Valerie found himself overcome with gratitude and understanding. Without hesitation, he launched himself into Andre’s arms, embracing his brother tightly, the unspoken bond of brotherhood speaking volumes between them.

"I am sorry," Valerie whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "And I’m thankful at the same time."

"I’m sorry too," Andre replied, embracing him back with equal sincerity, their bond as brothers palpable in the moment.

Though born from different mothers, they shared the same blood, a connection that transcended their differences. If only their mothers hadn’t been consumed by their thirst for power, they could have grown up together, united instead of divided by the throne.

They embraced for a while, lost in their shared emotions, until the moment began to feel awkward, prompting them to break apart.

Valerie settled on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, when Andre spoke up. "How do you feel?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.

He sighed. "Fine."

"Good."

"What happened to my mother?" Valerie finally inquired, eager to know.

"In the cold room," Andre replied simply.

"What?" Valerie’s heart clenched painfully at the thought.

The cold room was a dreaded place, meticulously crafted by Oberon, the Winter King, and hardly used except in dire situations. It was rumored that King Oberon reserved it for punishing hardened criminals who dared to challenge his authority.

It lies hidden beneath the palace, a place of icy desolation that stands in stark contrast to the fiery depths of hell. Here, within the frozen hell, temperatures plummets to unimaginable depths, where mere minutes of exposure can inflict severe frostbite upon even the hardiest of Winter Fae. The air is thick with an icy mist that seems to seep into one’s the very soul of anyone who dares to venture within, leaving no refuge from the numbing cold.

For Fae Queen Maeve, a Summer Fae accustomed to warmth and light, the room would be a place of pure agony. Every breath would feel like inhaling shards of ice, and every movement sending waves of excruciating cold coursing through her veins. Despite her resilience as a Fae of the Summer Court, the relentless chill of the room tests her endurance to its limits, threatening to extinguish the very essence of her fiery spirit, draining her strength and vitality.

Queen Maeve would remain ensnared in this never-ending nightmare of icy torment, yearning for the comforting embrace of warmth until the Winter King deemed her punishment sufficient. Trapped within the frigid confines of the hall, she would be denied even the solace of death, as the chamber is meticulously monitored to ensure her survival until her sentence is served in full.

Valerie fell silent, grappling with a tumult of conflicting emotions. Somewhere deep inside him, there was a sense of relief that his mother was finally facing consequences for her actions, but at the same time, she was still his mother, and he couldn’t help but wish for her to be spared from suffering.

"It’s all my fault," he muttered, his hands fidgeting nervously.

"It’s not your fault," Andre countered firmly.

Valerie persisted, his voice tinged with self-blame. "If I hadn’t challenged Aldric to a death duel, she wouldn’t have lost her temper and—"

"Do not make excuses for a bully, Valerie," Andre interrupted sternly. "If it wasn’t for this duel, something else would have triggered her violent tendencies. And speaking of which...what in the Fae were you thinking challenging Aldric to a death duel?!"

Valerie flushed with shame. "The idea seemed feasible at the time. I thought I could secure Islinda’s release, and the duel appeared to be in my favor. Or so it seemed. "

Andre sighed heavily. "You played right into Aldric’s hands."

Valerie smiled confidently. "So my mother says." He glanced at Andre with assurance. "But don’t worry, I will emerge victorious."

Andre raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from surprise to suspicion. "Why do I feel like you’re about to do something foolish?"

Valerie smiled wryly. "I am simply trying to do what’s right."

"Valerie..." Andre’s voice was tinged with anxiety now. "What do you intend to do?"

"I’ll master the blue flame," Valerie declared resolutely.

"What?" Andre was taken aback, his eyes widening with shock. "No," he said firmly, his gaze turning cold. "Not even your mother was able to master the blue flame, and you want to attempt it? And in just one week? That’s suicide for crying out loud!"

"My mother didn’t, but my great-grandfather did, and I know where to find him," Valerie replied, his eyes gleaming with determination.

"Valerie, I can’t support this. You could lose—" Andre began, but Valerie cut him off.

"My mind is already made up, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. However, you can help me in some other way," He insisted.

Andre wanted to protest further, but he knew when his brother’s mind was set. "Fine. What is it?"

"It’s about Islinda..."