Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 146: An Opportuned Solution...

Chapter 146: An Opportuned Solution...

Damian walked into his father’s private chambers without missing a beat. His mind was still filled with thoughts of what had happened in the throne room, and Storm, his wolf, was struggling to remain calm.

The mere idea of Kyle standing there and boldly claiming hismate had ignited a rage in him that he had never felt before.

He had barely kept his instincts in check back there. And now? Now, he was being summoned like a child, as if they expected him to accept this madness.

As he stepped inside, his sharp silver eyes immediately locked onto his father, King Lucian, seated at the long wooden table. Lord Luther stood to his side, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable.

Damian forced himself to keep his face neutral. "I heard you wanted to speak with me. Alone."

Lucian gave a slow nod, but his gaze flickered toward Luther. "Yes. Though I believe it is necessary for Luther to stay."

Damian exhaled sharply. "Why?"

A calm expression appeared on Lucian’s sharp features as he leaned back in his chair. "Because you respect his counsel, do you not?"

Damian’s jaw tightened. "That depends."

Luther chuckled lightly. "You wound me, Your Highness."

Damian ignored him and turned his full attention to his father. "Let’s not waste time. What is this about?"

Lucian studied him for a long moment before finally speaking. "It’s about the future, Damian. Your future. And the future of Arcadia."

Damian’s fists clenched at his sides. He already knew where this conversation was headed.

Still, he nodded. "I’m listening."

Lucian leaned back slightly. "Then listen now."

Damian crossed his arms, waiting.

"You know what needs to be done, Damian," Lucian began. "Your engagement to Selene is what’s best for Arcadia. Her family’s influence, the wealth it brings, the stability of our alliances—it all relies on this."

Damian’s shoulders tensed.

"We can’t afford to sever ties with her family," Lucian continued. "Not over a woman whose very presence in this court has done nothing but bring trouble."

Damian’s fingers curled into fists. "Her presence didn’t bring trouble. Your court did."

Luther chuckled softly. "You see, Your Majesty? This is what I mean."

He turned to Damian, his voice deceptively smooth.

"The prince refuses to see reason. Lady Evelina—" he sighed, shaking his head as if what he was about to say physically pained him, "—has proven herself... unpredictable. Reckless. A woman whose name has been entangled with poisonings, betrayals, and conflicts. And now, with Prince Kyle’s sudden interest, we have a solution."

Damian’s jaw ticked. "A solution?"

Lucian nodded. "Yes. If she marries Kyle, the alliance with OakenShaw is sealed. She will be pardoned for every crime she has been accused of."

Damian’s breath left him in a slow, dangerous exhale.

So that was their plan.

Trade Evelina away like a bargaining chip, seal an alliance, and rid Arcadia of its biggest inconvenience all in one move.

His voice was quiet but sharp. "And why does this look like it was all planned from the beginning?"

Lucian’s brows lifted slightly.

Damian took a step forward. "What if you and OakenShaw orchestrated this from the start?" His silver eyes flashed red briefly. "You get what you want—a political bond with OakenShaw—and Kyle gets what he wants—Evelina."

Luther let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Paranoia does not suit you, Your Highness."

Damian ignored him, his gaze never leaving his father’s.

Lucian studied him for a moment before speaking. "This is the best course of action for everyone, Damian. For you. For Arcadia." He exhaled. "You and Selene—"

"Selene means nothing to me," Damian cut in.

Lucian’s expression didn’t change. "She doesn’t have to. She brings power, influence, security."

"I don’t care," Damian growled.

Lucian’s voice remained level. "You should."

Damian clenched his jaw. "I’ve already marked and claimed Evelina. I won’t stand by and watch someone else lay a finger on her."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Luther sighed dramatically. "You say you’ve claimed her, but does that truly matter? Fated or not, choices can be made." His lips curved into something close to a smirk. "Do not let an attachment cloud your vision, Your Highness."

Damian’s patience snapped. "You do not speak to me about vision, Luther." His voice was low, controlled, but filled with unmistakable warning.

Luther tilted his head, amused.

Lucian inhaled deeply, as if restraining himself. Then, his gaze hardened.

"You’re being reckless," he said.

"No," Damian countered. "I’m being right."

Lucian’s expression flickered. "You sound just like your mother."

Damian’s entire body went rigid.

Lucian leaned forward slightly. "She was stubborn, too. Always too willing to follow her heart rather than what was best for the kingdom." His silver eyes gleamed. "And look what it got her."

Damian’s breath came slow and sharp, his fists trembling at his sides.

A tense silence filled the air.

Luther, ever the opportunist, took the moment to speak. "Your mother was a remarkable woman," he said softly. "But she lacked the discipline to rule as she should have. You, however, have the chance to be better. To make the right decision."

Damian exhaled, a slow, controlled breath.

Then he took a step back.

He had heard enough.

His voice was quiet but unshakable. "I am not my mother."

Lucian’s expression didn’t change.

"But I am also not you."

With that, Damian turned and strode out the door.

Luther watched him go, then glanced at Lucian. "That could’ve gone worse."

Lucian exhaled deeply, pressing two fingers to his temple. "That boy..." His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Luther, ever the composed one, let out a low chuckle. "You expected him to submit?" He shook his head. "Your son has never been the kind to simply obey, Your Majesty."

Lucian’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the wooden armrest of his chair. His silver eyes remained fixed on the door Damian had stormed out of.

"He’s too much like her," Lucian murmured. "Like his mother."

Luther inclined his head slightly. "That’s not entirely a bad thing now, your Majesty, or is it?"