Chapter 6 – A Wedding Soaked in Blood

"A wedding is meant to unite—

but in the Snake's Den, unity is just another word for entrapment."

Nest of Serpents

by E.S. Mare

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We had been enemies of the Lions for as long as memory could stretch.

It wasn’t the first time they had crossed into our lands, but for them to appear today—on the very day the divided Snake Kingdoms were to begin their fragile reunion, even if only in part? That could not be mere chance. Their intentions were clear, unmistakable. And yet… how had King Siles failed to foresee this? How had he allowed himself to be so thoroughly caught off guard?

“Still,” the king continued, his voice carrying more steel now, “I wish for my people to feel entirely safe. The wedding ceremony will follow after the meal and entertainment.”

From the expression on the Black Snake King’s face, it was obvious he was displeased. You’d have to be blind not to see the suspicion building in his eyes. A trap—yes, that was what they feared most. Though the nobles were clearly unsettled, guided by the servants led them toward the dining hall. A large door separated the two chambers.

But the royal families did not move. Neither the White Snake King and Queen nor the Black Snake rulers left their places. Their children stood just as still.

Only Drassa stepped forward at King Siles’s subtle signal. King Siles leaned in, whispering into his favored son's ear. Drassa clenched his jaw, then gave a stiff nod and withdrew. Under the watchful eyes of the Black Snake royalty, she turned and walked out, too.

The White Snake soldiers began to accompany the nobles, likely to ease their nerves in the dining hall. But the Black Snake soldiers held their ground. That was why, as we began to move with the nobles—carefully, silently, so as not to draw attention— the Queen of the White Snakes signaled us to remain. My instincts flared. For a moment, I thought my mother might be scheming again. But a dozen White Snake soldiers surrounded us. Surely they would never have allowed their king and queen to remain unguarded among the Black Snakes. We were fewer—perhaps a deliberate choice not to alarm the other side—but we were far from defenseless.

King Siles approached the Black Snake King.

“My queen will accompany you. Once I am certain the matter outside has been dealt with, I will return and join you myself...”

“Where is my son?” the Black Snake King interrupted, his voice thunderous.

The temperature in the hall seemed to plummet. A storm had arrived. Of course they were worried. The crown prince was still missing. And the timing of the Lions’ appearance made it easy to believe this was all a distraction.

“I’m here!”

The prince strode into the hall, his black cloak billowing behind him, flanked by two soldiers. The king visibly relaxed, and the Black Snake Queen’s relief was even more palpable.

My gaze returned to the prince. It was clear who he was, even without a crown or cloak. He shared his brothers’ blood, but carried it with greater weight— his shoulders were broader, his presence darker. His face was carved in sharper lines. As though time had chiseled him more harshly. Smoke-colored hair fell past his shoulders, soft as shadow. And upon his brow rested a crown gleaming coldly, cruelly bright against the muted black of his cloak.

Alissa had said he was twenty-one, yet the man approaching the throne now, fury burning in his eyes, looked older.

He halted at the foot of the stairs and drew his sword.

Before the nobles could fully witness the unfolding tension, two guards flung close the doors to the dining hall. If they had seen what we had just witnessed, would’ve erupted into panic. Both Black and White Snake nobles were gathered in that hall. A single spark could ignite chaos.

The White Snake soldiers unsheathed their swords. I was one of them. As my hand closed around the hilt, the snake carved into the metal stirred—its head coiled around my knuckles and pressed tight. It melded with my armor so seamlessly it was almost invisible. Without it, they might have seen I was no ordinary soldier.

The Black Snake soldiers mirrored our motion, lining up opposite us along the far wall.

“What is the meaning of this?” King Siles demanded, his voice low and furious.

King Evenos turned toward his men. “Lower your weapons!” Then to his son: “You too, Adrastis. Explain yourself.”

“The princess has escaped!” Crown Prince Adrastis growled.

The sword trembled in my grip. A rustle of dread swept through the hall like a chilling wind.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” he snarled, “but this will not go unanswered..”

So it was a diversion, then—the Lions were never the real threat. Alissa had escaped.

But how?

I glanced at Vilas. The shock on his face mirrored my own.

“She escaped!” the prince roared again. My gaze snapped back to him.

“King Siles,” said King Evenos, voice laced with menace, “I demand an explanation.”

Siles drew a long breath. “My men are searching for her. Her servants are being questioned as we speak.”

“There is no harm in conducting the interrogations in our presence, is there?” Evenos said, voice cold and formal. So much for diplomacy— the fragile peace was already unraveling.

I turned to Queen Kalissia. Her face, too, was stricken with surprise. But whether it was at Alissa’s daring escape or the ceremony collapsing into war, I could not tell.

The king’s sharp command snapped my attention back to him.

“Bring Princess Alissa’s servants!”

Within minutes, four soldiers dragged two servants into the hall and threw them to the ground. They were questioned swiftly, but neither knew anything. They had prepared the princess, as she had asked. Alissa had told them she wished to be alone until the prince arrived. The prince had agreed—yet when he entered, he declared that Alissa was not there.

She had escaped.

Through the secret passage hidden in her room.

The king had realized it, no doubt, but he could not speak of it aloud. Instead, he accused the maids of betrayal. Their pleas echoed in vain. They were dragged out of the hall, bound for the dungeons—and from there, toward death.

They were innocent. But who cared?

King Siles clenched his jaw, turning to the other king with heavy breath. No path lay open to him now.

“Princess Alissa will be found,” he said, His voice was a murmur, firm yet laced with resolve. It was a vow offered to the Black Snake King. “The wedding will proceed as planned.”

“There will be no wedding!” the crown prince erupted. “I will not wed a traitor. To do so would dishonor both myself and my kingdom.”

Even though the man he addressed was his father, the outburst shocked me. The Black Snake King was clearly displeased, but he said nothing.

The only person who seemed pleased was the young The Black Snake Queen. Since her arrival, the young queen’s gaze had never left the prince’s face. She tried to hide her expression, but I saw it—a fleeting, satisfied smile.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

A surge of revulsion coiled within me.

I couldn’t be certain Alissa had made the right choice by escaping, especially alone. But for a brief moment, I found solace in knowing she would not be bound to a man who had once lain with her father’s wife.

I had to find her.

And I would.

But not now.

Right now, I was a White Snake soldier. Every move I made was under the Black Snakes' gaze. One step, even one twitch, could draw blades.

I could not move.

“Princess Alissa will be executed the moment she is found,” the prince continued.

My fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword.

“This is treason,” he said coldly, “and treason must be punished.”

My uncle Masslon stepped forward, fury in his voice. “Is it your son who speaks in your stead, Your Majesty? Then tell him quickly—before it is too late—that defying a king is no small matter.”

The Black Snake King inhaled deeply and stepped down from the dais, resting a hand on his son's shoulder.

“Calm yourself, my son. Of course…” He turned to King Siles. “The White Snake King will not let this betrayal go unanswered. Unless,” his eyes narrowed, “he seeks another war.”

King Siles’s face hardened. Still, he nodded. “I swear to you, my daughter will be punished. But not with death. There must be a path we can both walk.”

“No,” Prince Adrastis interjected, again. I couldn’t decide whether to admire his courage or blame his ignorance. But the sharpness in his eyes told me he was no fool.

King Siles was clearly seeking another way. To cancel the wedding meant the alliance would collapse before it even began. King Evenos must have shared the same fear, for he stepped in.

“We can still find a middle path,” he said, eyes locked on the White Snake King. “Given the circumstances, perhaps you might allow my son to choose his bride.”

Under other circumstances, King Siles would never have handed such power to the Black Snakes. But now? Now, he had no better choice. He allowed it—chose to ignore their pride, their arrogance, in favor of peace.

“Of course,” he said, voice calm. “No bride has yet been formally declared. Even if they believe Princess Alissa will marry Prince Adrastis, we can say that she didn’t attend the ceremony due to her illness.”

“That will not stop the whispers, my dear husband,” said Queen Kalissia, finally breaking her silence. Her face gave nothing away. “All the princesses but Alissa stood with us at the ceremony.”

“They will whisper for a time,” King Siles said indifferently, “But in time, like all whispers, it will be lost to the wind.”

He moved aside, offering the prince a clear view of his daughters.

And then I saw her. Young Miless, her small hands clutching Teressa’s gown. Rage surged through me.

She was among the prince’s choices.

She was so young.

And if that filthy reptile laid a hand on her, there would be no power—mortal or divine—that could keep me from drawing blood.

The prince said nothing, surveying the line of girls as though picking from slaves. Vilas’s arm brushed against mine, a brief, wordless warning.

“Stop fidgeting. And loosen your grip on your sword. He’ll probably choose Teressa.”

His voice was taut, laced with unspoken tension. He knew—just as I did—that Teressa was out of the question. The Black Snakes would never stain their name with a daughter born of forbidden blood. That left the others. Aslemis. Erissa. Sisla...

Aslemis was the eldest—yet still only fifteen.

Far too young—all of them.

Children trapped in a game they could never win.

Prince Adrastis’s gaze paused on little Miless.

Had Vilas not seized my wrist,

I might have driven my blade into that wretch’s throat.

“If he makes the wrong choice,” I muttered, “You know what must follow.”

“I know,” Vilas replied.

“And you know what I intend.”

“I’ve always known.”

The prince raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the princesses once more—slowly, deliberately.

King Siles swallowed his pride and said nothing. There was nothing he could say. Nothing he could do.

Queen Kalissia remained still, unmoved. Even now, she didn’t glance once at her youngest daughter. She didn’t care.

I had loathed her once.

But never with such fire.

Finally, the prince turned to King Siles. Everyone waited, breath held, for his decision. But instead, he said something else. “Queen Kalissia is right. This will cause unrest. The nobles will whisper. The people will spread rumors. And if the heir to the Black Snake throne turns a blind eye and chooses another bride, his honor will be forever stained.”

He turned to his father.

“Surely, Your Majesty, you agree.”

At that moment, I understood something new about the crown prince. However he had done it, he held immense power over his father. His outbursts weren’t just theatrics; he was certain the king wouldn’t dare oppose him. I had seen the king’s discomfort, yet he hadn’t said a word. In truth, the crown prince had already become king. Only the people hadn’t realized it yet.

King Verenos nodded again in approval. “Of course, my son. The last thing I would wish is for my kingdom to be remembered for scandal and shame.”

King Siles’s brow tightened. He was clearly unsettled. Yet beneath my iron helm, I couldn’t help but smile. This farce smelled like the last strand of peace fraying apart. Siles was no fool—he was already searching for an escape. You could almost hear the hissing calculations behind his silence. Even so, he still cast a furious glance at the queen for not keeping silent.

Watching him cornered stirred something dark and gleeful inside me. The wounds on my back still burned, and the hand that had carved them now trembled, unable to wipe the sweat from its brow. I almost laughed—but the prince's next words ripped all amusement from me.

“If I’m not mistaken, Your Majesty... you have another daughter.”

I froze.

So did Vilas.

Steady. Not a twitch. Not a breath.

Even King Siles looked caught off guard. “Yes, I have another daughter. But she is ill. That is why she was not present at the ceremony.”

“I want to see her.”

My stomach knotted, bile burning at the back of my throat. I struggled not to collapse to my knees and empty whatever food remained in me.

I hadn’t stood among the other princesses.

I could have been chosen.

I could have been that bride.

My eyes slid shut, the darkness behind my lids a refuge.

No—it could never have been me.

As the king said, I was sick.

He would never have chosen me.

Praise be to the Sovereign of the Soil, for sparing me from such a fate.

“As I mentioned, Prince Adrastis,” the king repeated, “she is ill. In fact, she suffers from contagious Lymph disease. She is not in any state you’d wish to see. And certainly not worthy of being your bride.”

“Steady,” Vilas murmured beside me.

“Silence!” I snapped, the word hissing out like a blade. His endless commands I could endure, but ‘steady’? What did that even mean?

Alissa had run.

My younger brother still trembled behind Teressa.

And now, of all things, the prince wanted to see me.

To his credit, Vilas said nothing more. He knew words would only make it worse.

“I don’t mean to doubt you, King Siles,” the prince said. “But after everything, I must see her for myself. If your words hold true... then I shall risk all and take Teressa as my bride.”

Hold your composure. Let not a single tremor betray you.

The king would find a way, as always.

The prince would marry Teressa, and they would leave this palace.

When the king said, “As you wish, my prince,” a cold bead of sweat snaked its way down my spine. He motioned to two guards, who exited the hall swiftly. Moments later, two maids entered, leading a veiled woman between them. The maids wore black, gloves on their hands, veils covering their mouths. The woman they led in was swathed in gray from crown to heel, her form swallowed in shadow. Not a single feature could be glimpsed.

Of course, the king had prepared for such a situation. On occasion, he would present false princesses to the public and ask them to pray. This woman was one of them. And she played her part so perfectly, it chilled me.

She approached the prince but kept her distance. All eyes turned to her. The prince faced her fully. She dipped into a curtsy, but her knees buckled, and the maids rushed forward, seizing her arms before she crumpled.

The prince took a few steps forward, but his father called out, “Hold your ground, my son!”

This was a humiliation for the White Kingdom, yet no one dared speak.

The prince did not stop. He came to stand directly before her.

“Princess Assra Marian,” he said, bowing his head slightly, “forgive me for summoning you.”

“As you can see,” said King Siles, “she is gravely ill.”

Yes, now go. Take Teressa’s hand and walk out of this cursed hall.

But the prince did not turn.

“Please...” His voice was a low growl in the shadows. “Let me see your face. I wish to pray to the Sovereign of the Soil for your healing.”

Vilas knew there was no ill woman beneath that veil. I saw the flicker of panic in his eyes.

The king would never have risked bringing a truly sick woman into his court. He had once taken that risk with me—and I was still paying the price.

I stared at the king. Sweat clung to my skin. He would never allow the veil to be lifted.

"Prince Adrastis," the king said with tight control, "I cannot allow you to catch her illness. Besides, my daughter needs rest as well.”

The prince pressed his lips together, turned toward the king—and then, just when I dared to breathe—he stepped forward.

“Your Majesty,” he said. He dared far more than any prince should. “I am deeply sorry for your daughter. Our kingdom, too, has been ravaged by this blight. Its horrors are not unknown to me. But...”

He paused, frowning. “I assume your daughter has been ill since birth?”

“Tragically, yes,” the king replied calmly.

“So... she’s battled this disease for years.” The prince stepped closer again. “Then her skin must bear the marks—rotting flesh, no doubt.”

His words cut like a blade. If I had truly been ill, they might have been true—but still, such words were a grave insult. No one dared speak so of a princess, let alone to the king’s face.

And yet, King Siles said nothing.

The prince went on. “But her eyes... her eyes, my king... they appear far too healthy. This disease begins with the eyes.”

Dread coursed through me.

That was his intent.

He had approached her—to see through the veil.

The king fell silent.

Not that the prince expected him to speak.

He drew his sword and swung.

The blade severed the false princess's neck in a single stroke, the steel singing as it buried itself in the stone behind me.

Her severed head tumbled across the stone floor, the veil slipping away to unveil her lifeless face.

Her body crumpled beside it, lifeless.

Her eyes were wide open—clear, unclouded.

Her skin bore no mark of disease. Death had claimed one far too vibrant to wither.

As blood soaked the stones.

My siblings screamed.

But his voice pierced the shrieking.

“Princess Marian! Would you kindly bring me my sword, my lady?”

He turned.

His gaze snared mine.

Eyes as dark and fathomless as the Abyss.

He smiled—like a serpent who’d finally found its prey.

“Or perhaps... I should have called you my honorable wife.”