Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 604: Sit On My Throne — 1

Chapter 604: Sit On My Throne — 1

Aldric’s mind was a labyrinth of intrigue and calculation, a place both fascinating as much as it was unsettling. It wasn’t just the darkness of his thoughts that unnerved Islinda, but the patience and meticulousness with which he planned his every move.

He harbored a grand vision, one that surpassed anything she could imagine, and she couldn’t help but wonder where she fit into it all. What was her role in his intricate schemes? Or had she outlived her usefulness now that he had Valerie cornered? What would become of her in the end, when all was said and done?

The realization that Valerie was like a cornered animal sent a wave of panic coursing through Islinda. She dreaded to imagine the desperate measures Valerie might resort to in order to secure victory. While she couldn’t bear the thought of Valerie meeting his demise, she couldn’t let Aldric die either. If only Aldric had "listened" to her a lot earlier, she wouldn’t find herself trapped in this harrowing predicament. She couldn’t bear the idea of witnessing the two Fae she had loved locked in a deadly duel. By the gods, what had she done, unwittingly setting two brothers against each other in a battle that could only end in tragedy?

The looming dread of the impending fight to the death bore down on Islinda with crushing weight. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was a curse to Valerie, and now Aldric would use her as a pawn in his own downfall. The thought of being instrumental in the demise of the Fae she had once loved weighed heavily on her conscience. It was this realization that had Islinda retreating once again into the protective shell of her own emotions, withdrawing from Aldric as she grappled with the guilt and despair that threatened to consume her.

Aldric sensed Islinda’s inner turmoil but chose to remain silent, his gaze fixed outside. His lips were pressed into a grim line, and his hand gripped his knee so tightly that his veins bulged with tension. He hated this. He despised the way Islinda seemed to perceive him as the villain, despite his every action being driven by the desire to improve the lives of everyone in Astaria. Once he ascended to the throne, he was determined to usher in an era of prosperity and equality, where even the humans would thrive under his rule than they did during Oberon’s.

Aldric knew that Islinda’s thoughts were consumed by Valerie, and a bitter taste formed in his mouth as he realized that his mate was not yet free from her first love, despite what she claimed. The impending duel between him and Valerie would proceed regardless of Islinda’s thoughts on the matter.

Valerie was a necessary sacrifice, an obstacle that Aldric could not allow to stand in the way of his ascension to the throne. Though he knew Islinda’s righteous human sensibilities would never fully accept it, Aldric understood that this was the way of the Fae: only the strongest could rule.

Despite his deep connection to Islinda as his mate, Aldric knew he could not abandon his ambitions for her sake alone. Too much was at stake, with the fate of countless Faeries hanging in the balance. If he faltered now, if Valerie were to ascend, the dark Faeries would face extinction.

Regardless of whether Islinda approved of his relentless pursuit of the throne, Aldric knew he couldn’t afford to waver—not now, not ever. Even if it meant losing his mate, he was committed to seeing his vision through to the end.

The tension between them hung heavy in the air as they rode in silence, the looming presence of the winter palace drawing nearer with each passing moment. Finally, it came into view, nestled amidst a breathtaking landscape of snow-capped mountains and frosted forests.

The palace rose majestically against the wintry scenery, its towering spires and grand façade commanding attention and respect. Like a shimmering jewel amidst the snow, it stood as a formidable fortress, its sparkling walls seemingly carved from the finest ice and enchanted crystal. As they approached, the palace seemed to glow with an otherworldly radiance, the pale light of the dusking winter sun reflecting off its surfaces and casting an ethereal aura over the surrounding landscape

As their carriage approached the palace, they were greeted by a large ornate gate adorned with intricate frost patterns, each detail meticulously crafted by skilled artisans.

Beyond the gates, the grand entrance beckoned, framed by towering columns of ice that seemed to reach towards the sky. Sprawling courtyards and gardens stretched out before them, where frost-covered statues of majestic yet intimidating winter wolves stood guard, their watchful eyes surveying all who entered.

Stepping down from the carriage with the assistance of waiting servants, the crunch of snow beneath their feet echoed through the courtyard. Soon, Aurelia and the others arrived on horseback, their presence adding to the bustling activity that now filled the once-quiet palace as they began to unload their belongings.

Former Lord Karle and Elena stepped out from a carriage together, their presence drawing Islinda’s gaze. She couldn’t help but think sarcastically about how good they looked together. However, her attention was quickly diverted when Karle caught sight of his nephew and hurried over to him.

"Welcome to the palace, your highness," Karle greeted Aldric warmly.

Aldric barely acknowledged the greeting, his attention already shifting to Islinda as he moved to reach for her waist. However, he caught himself at the last minute, abruptly halting his movement. Instead, he addressed her directly.

"Let’s go," he said tersely, his tone betraying the underlying tension that still simmered between them.

Islinda nodded her head, relived yet at a total loss as well that he didn’t touch her. Karle looked totally downcast when Aldric walked ahead with her instead of him. But Islinda did not care at all. She did not come here to start a competition over Aldric’s affection. Not to mention, she was still pissed over him.

As they walked, Islinda couldn’t help but notice Elena’s apparent neglect, which oddly pleased her. Islinda wondered about the state of Aldric’s relationship with Elena and how he seemed to have forgotten about her presence entirely. Weren’t they friends, or at least acquaintances? Islinda shook her head at the thought, turning away from Elena’s glaring gaze with a scoff

They walked into the palace, its inside proving to be opulence and an architectural splendor, with grand halls adorned with intricate ice sculptures and crystal chandeliers hanging from vaulted ceilings, casting a soft, radiant glow over the gleaming marble floors below.

The halls and chambers of the palace were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of winter landscapes and mythical creatures of ice and snow. The floors, paved with glistening ice, seemed to ripple like water beneath one’s feet, creating an ethereal atmosphere throughout. Everywhere Islinda looked, she was surrounded by the beauty of ice, a winter wonderland that left her jaw gaping open in awe.

Aldric seemed to take pleasure in her reaction, his pride evident as he boomed, "Wait till you see the throne room."

Eagerly, he led Islinda through the palace corridors until they reached their destination.

The throne room was located in the heart of the palace where the High Lord would hold court and dispense justice to his subjects. In there, towering pillars of ice rose to meet a vaulted ceiling embellished with shimmering icicles, while the throne itself was carved from a single, massive glacier, its surface designed with elaborate frost patterns.

"What in the Fae...." Islinda was simply breathless as she stared at the throne. Although she had not visited other courts, she knew at once the winter realm had the most breathtaking artistry. There was something just so dazzling and beautifully majestic about winter.

Laughter bubbled out of Islinda’s throat as she moved through the room with a childlike curiosity, admiring each element with eagerness.

"This is beautiful," Islinda gasped, touching the delicate frost patterns etched into the walls, the towering pillars of ice and the glacial throne with a sense of wonder.

Meanwhile, Aldric watched her with quiet satisfaction, his anger long forgotten, his gaze now alight with pride as he witnessed the delight reflected in Islinda’s eyes. He relished the sight of her exploring the throne — his throne — with such unabashed enthusiasm, her pure laughter sounding like music to his ears. It brought him a sense of warmth and contentment knowing he brought his mate even the smallest happiness.

Islinda was so engrossed in admiring the opulent throne that she didn’t hear Aldric approach, his footsteps silent as a shadow’s whisper.

Suddenly, a soft voice broke through her thoughts, causing Islinda to nearly jump out of her skin. "You can sit on it if you like it," Aldric murmured, his voice a velvet caress that sent shivers down Islinda’s spine

Startled, Islinda turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest as she registered their close proximity.

"What?" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with surprise.

Aldric’s gaze held her captive, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

With deliberate slowness, Aldric’s hand slid up Islinda’s arm, his touch sending a wave of heat coursing through her veins. With tantalizing grace, he removed her coat, each movement deliberate and calculated to heighten her anticipation. Islinda’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the fabric slip from her shoulders, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable under Aldric’s intense gaze. Almost as if she was naked. Even though she wasn’t.

"You don’t need this anymore," He said with a husky voice that made her core throb with desire.

At that moment, Islinda realized she had been terribly wrong to assume that Aldric needed physical contact to seduce her. No, she had been completely mistaken. His smoldering gaze and seductive voice alone were enough to have her sex weeping for his attention.

"Behave!" Islinda mentally chided herself, determined to regain control over her traitorous body. She was trying to move past this allure of Aldric, not succumb to it further. Only the gods could aid her on this challenging journey.

Islinda took a deep breath and composed herself. Her expression was completely impossible to read when she said to Aldric, "What’s next?"

Aldric simply smirked and gestured towards the throne. "What’s next is that you sit on my throne," he said, taking her by the shoulder and guiding her onto the imposing seat of power.