The Cursed Alpha Prince's Replacement Bride-Chapter 37: Valeria Langford

{Third Person}

On the other end, the response came immediately, laced with urgency and respect. "My Lord—"

Zarek let out a soft, almost amused breath. "You are an important official of this kingdom," he said, his voice easing into something almost benevolent. "There is no need to be nervous."

A small, awkward chuckle followed from the other end.

Zarek leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. "I assume you witnessed what happened tonight."

There was a small pause from the other end, then, carefully, "Yes... My Lord."

Zarek’s gaze darkened slightly, though his tone remained measured. "Tell me... what do you think of it?"

The hesitation this time was shorter. "It was... inappropriate. The Alpha Prince’s actions this time were extreme."

Zarek smiled faintly. "Extreme?" he repeated. "In front of foreign delegates? At a state banquet?"

He let the words settle before continuing, quieter now. "And yet... His Majesty still shows him leniency."

The bait was set.

On the other end, the official exhaled audibly. "The court is already in an uproar, My Lord. Many are... dissatisfied."

"I would imagine so," Zarek replied lightly. Then his voice dipped, turning sharper beneath the calm. "Because if this continues... what authority will any of you have left?"

Another moment of silence followed before the official spoke. "You are right, My Lord."

Zarek’s smile deepened.

"The court cannot remain silent," the official continued, more firmly now. "This cannot happen again."

"Exactly," Zarek said softly. "Which is why... you should act."

Then, cautiously, the official inquired, "What do you suggest, My Lord?"

Zarek’s fingers stilled. "Rally the others and formally submit your grievances. Write petitions. Make your voices heard by His Majesty by tomorrow morning," he said. "So he knows how serious the Alpha Prince’s crimes are."

The response came without hesitation this time. "It will be done."

"Good," Zarek murmured, then directly ended the call.

For a moment, he remained quiet, then a slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips.

"Let’s see how Father saves you this time... Alexander," he muttered under his breath.

Just then, a soft knock interrupted his thoughts. The door opened gently, and Julia stepped in, carrying a tray with a cup of tea.

Her movements were quiet, composed, but her eyes were sharp as they lifted to meet his. She set the cup of tea down on his desk.

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, after studying his expression, she spoke. "Was that dancer aware... she would be sacrificing her life to do your bidding tonight?"

The room went completely still.

Zarek studied as well, then slowly rose from his seat. He walked toward her, his smile returning, but colder now.

Right then, he stopped just behind her, close enough for his presence to feel suffocating. Leaning slightly, his voice brushed against her ear.

"Now, she knows," he whispered.

Julia’s fingers tightened subtly against the edge of the tray.

Zarek’s hand slid along her arm, his touch light but possessive. He leaned in closer, his lips grazing the edge of her ear not so kindly.

Julia’s eyes narrowed, but she did not move.

Zarek felt her anger and the tension. And it amused him greatly.

With a careless motion, he took the tray from her hands and dropped it onto the table in front of them, the faint clatter breaking the silence.

His attention returned to her, his grip tightening just enough to assert control as he pulled her slightly forward.

Julia’s jaw clenched, but she remained still. He then slowly lifted her dress, revealing her black lace panties.

Without holding back, he undid his belt and ravished her from behind.

—

Elsewhere, in a much quieter part of the palace, King Sebastian stood alone in his chamber.

The anger from earlier had long faded, leaving something far heavier in its place.

In his hand was an old picture frame carefully preserved. Inside it was the image of a young woman—beautiful, regal, her dark hair crowned, her expression soft yet dignified.

She was the former Queen and Alexander’s mother, Valeria Langford.

Sebastian’s thumb brushed lightly against the edge of the frame as his gaze lingered on her face.

"...Did I go too far tonight?" he asked quietly. But there was no answer except silence.

His jaw tightened slightly. "He is still our son," he continued, his voice lower now. "But I—" He paused, then exhaled.

"Will you hold it against me... for disciplining him so harshly?" His eyes softened faintly. "For not being able to love him the way you did?"

The question hung in the air unanswered.

After a long moment, Sebastian sighed deeply and carefully set the frame back in its place, almost reverently.

Meanwhile, in a different part of the palace, Queen Lysandra’s chambers were filled with warmth and gentle luxury.

Steam curled gently through the air as she reclined in a large bath, the water laced with fragrant oils. A servant stood behind her, hands working skillfully to massage her shoulders.

In her hand, Lysandra held a glass of wine. She took a slow sip, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Tonight had gone very well for her. Alexander had disgraced himself before the Humans, and the court was definitely in upheaval. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

And most importantly, the King had punished him harshly.

Lysandra’s fingers traced lightly along the rim of the glass as she leaned back further, closing her eyes in contentment.

For once, everything was moving exactly as she wanted.

"This is indeed a good night," she murmured softly to herself.

---

The Alpha Prince’s residence was finally enveloped in an unusual calm.

Amara had already curled into bed with Ginger, resting next to her. But things were different for Alexander.

Inside his private chamber, the air was heavy with the sharp scent of medicine.

Alexander sat on the edge of his bed, his upper body bare, his back exposed. The once white shirt he had worn earlier lay discarded, soaked through with blood.

The wounds beneath told their own story—deep, torn lashes crossing over one another, some still fresh, some already swelling.

They were severe, even for someone like him.

A male physician stood behind him, sleeves rolled, hands steady as he worked. A bowl of warm water sat nearby, now tinged faintly red.