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The conqueror queen: chronicles of Sylvanoria

"Liora, come out of the room," Maximus ordered, his tone commanding.  "How dare you call me by name? I am your queen," she shouted defiantly.  "You are not a queen but a witch using black magic," he sneered, his laughter echoing through the tense air, matched by his men's amusement.  Queen Liora seethed with anger, while Elara signaled negatively and further fortified the door. "You are a coward hiding behind the door like your husband," he taunted, reveling in the psychological warfare.  "Don't dare mention my husband's name," she snapped, signing for Elara to cease and her shadow guard to be on high alert. She bravely strolled out, her anger palpable, her determination unwavering. "Leave me alone. Don't you dare disrespect me," she warned as they reluctantly backed away, allowing her space. Maximus circled her, his presence oppressive.  "You are truly beautiful, just as the first time Adrian brought you here," he commented, reaching out to touch her cheek. In a swift act of defiance, she bit him, her teeth sinking into his flesh. "Ouch! Hold her down," he barked, incensed by her resistance, as the confrontation escalated into a dangerous dance of power and will within the fortified room. In the mystical realm of Sylvanoria, P Queen Liora navigates a kingdom on the brink of chaos after her husband's murder. Seeking solace, she encounters the mysterious Saraphim, unraveling a complex illusion with Raven, the demon prince. As reality blurs, Liora is torn between past love and Saraphim's allure. Set in Saraphim's opulent room, illusions intensify with Raven's appearance, resembling Liora's late husband. Passion and romance intertwine, testing Liora's resolve. However, Saraphim's revelation unveils a web of secrets—a half-witch on a mission to manipulate the emperor and plunge the kingdom into war. The emotional saga unfolds with Saraphim casting a spell, turning invisible to Raven. Liora grapples with love, loss, and impending chaos in Sylvanoria. "Veiled Realms of Sylvanoria" is a tale of deception, love, and intertwining destinies, where illusions shape reality and choices echo across veiled realms.

Goldenheart001 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
62 Chs

chapter 19 "Whispers of Deception"

In the opulent confines of her royal chamber, Queen Liora stood by the window, her thoughts a tempestuous sea. The imperial palace seemed shrouded in secrecy and she could not shake off the growing unease that gnawed at her like relentless waves against the shore.

"Have you received any word about the king?" she inquired, her eyes reflecting worry, addressing her loyal maid.

"No, Your Majesty. No one has seen him. He's barricaded himself away," the maid responded, concern etched across her face.

Anxiety coiled within the queen like a tightening knot. The absence of her husband for several hours now weighed heavily on her heart. Determination surged through her; she could wait no longer. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness swept over her, causing her to stagger. Overwhelmed, she hurriedly made her way towards the washroom, battling to keep her composure.

"Her Majesty..." the maid trailed off, rushing to her side, alarmed by the sudden turn of events. "Are you alright?"

As Queen Liora knelt, attempting to regain her balance, she felt a profound sense of relief and elation. Amidst the turmoil, there was a spark of joy she hadn't anticipated.

"You're pregnant," the maid announced, a smile lighting up her features, revealing the joyous revelation.

"Truly?" the queen gasped, her eyes shimmering with tears of happiness.

"Certainly," the maid affirmed.

"Keep this news between us," Queen Liora instructed, her voice a gentle plea, a secret to be cherished for now.

In a stark chamber, the youngest prince faced a grueling interrogation. The minister of interrogation, cold and relentless, bore down on him, demanding an explanation for the unthinkable.

"Your highness," the minister pressed, his voice a blade of accusation, "tell us the truth. Why would you attempt to harm your elder brother?"

"I didn't have a choice. It was self-defense," the youngest prince vehemently declared, his voice echoing through the chamber.

The minister remained unyielding, convinced it was a fabricated tale. Signals were exchanged, and a member of his entourage stepped forward. With a swift, cruel motion, the prince's finger was pricked, a drop of blood falling ominously.

"Confess!" the minister demanded, his patience wearing thin, cruelty dripping from every word. The prince's cry of pain tore through the air."But you claimed to have placed it in your chamber," the Minister of Crimes questioned.

"I've told the truth now!" the prince pleaded, his eyes desperate.

In the depths of agony and despair, the prince endured the torment inflicted upon him. The minister's face was a mask of callousness, unmoved by the suffering before him. Water was poured, and the prince struggled to breathe, the sensation of drowning consuming him.

The agony of the prince's ordeal echoed through the cold walls, the palace seemingly oblivious to the suffering within its very heart.

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