Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate-Chapter 303: The Burden of Legacy

The demon had grown even more relentless—ten more vampires had been slaughtered in just a week. King Valentin could hardly catch his breath. He pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to ease the pounding headache that refused to subside.

"Have you found Maris?"

It had been days since he first noticed his mistress’s absence from the royal palace. The missing gowns from her wardrobe confirmed his suspicions that she had left of her own accord—neither forced nor taken.

She was chasing something. Or someone. And he had no doubt it had everything to do with Florian and the demon.

He cursed himself for realizing it too late. Then again, there had been too much on his shoulders—more than usual. Maris had slipped away while he was drowning in matters of the court, blood-soaked reports, and sleepless nights.

Even Lisbeth’s persistent whispers about Florian had barely registered. His mind had been fraying at the edges, exhaustion dulling his once-sharp instincts.

King Valentin prided himself on being a ruler who saw everything, who anticipated threats before they took root. But this—this thing inside Florian—had consumed too much of his attention, too much of his strength. The demon had turned his kingdom into a battlefield, his people into prey.

And yet, he hesitated.

Florian was the last remnant of the previous queen—the only proof that she had ever walked these halls. Killing him, as Lisbeth urged, would erase that trace completely. But keeping him alive was a risk they could no longer afford.

Without its host, the demon would perish. It was a simple truth.

Maris had carried the guilt of sparing the demon when it was still weak—when killing it would have been easy. But time had made things complicated.

She had grown attached to the boy who had become its host, watching him grow, caring for him as if he were something more than a vessel for destruction. So, of course, she had opposed Lisbeth’s plan. And that, too, had made the king hesitate.

King Valentin did not want to break his mistress’s heart.

Maris’s sudden departure spoke volumes. She was desperate—desperate to save the kingdom without condemning the boy. Without forcing the king to make the decision he kept putting off.

But was such a thing even possible?

"She has gone to find Riona, Your Majesty," Margrave Boris reported. The information had arrived earlier, but he had chosen to wait.

The king’s state had been unpredictable as of late—some days he worked for hours without pause, others he could barely keep his focus for minutes before exhaustion dragged him under. And sometimes, he wasn’t present at all, lost in his own mind.

Margrave Boris cared for the king’s well-being. He understood that knowing his mistress was safe might provide some relief. But a kingdom could not run on sentiment.

Lady Maris was, at the end of the day, just a mistress. She held no real standing in court, no political weight in the kingdom. The king, however, was indispensable. His duties came first. His grief—his heartache—would have to wait.

And if King Valentin couldn’t set aside personal attachments to do what needed to be done... then Margrave Boris would have to find a way to make him.

He pressed his fingers against his temple. "And Lisbeth?"

Margrave Boris hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Actually..." He launched into a detailed account of the princess’s disappearance—how she had been gone for longer than anyone realized.

It wasn’t unusual for Lisbeth to sleep elsewhere. She often dozed off in the training hall after extended sparring sessions. Sometimes, she would spend days away, training with her comrades. No one questioned it. It was only when her friends came searching for her that Margrave Boris discovered the truth.

"She was found unconscious. Badly wounded," he said grimly. "The physician detected traces of poison in her blood." He paused, then added, "But she’s recovering well. She hasn’t woken yet, but her wounds are healing."

King Valentin exhaled sharply.

She had been found in the northern tower.

He had assigned her the task of bringing meals to Florian—not out of cruelty, but because no other servant would do it. The few who had been forced into the job either quit or ended up dead.

But Lisbeth was strong. He had trusted her to handle herself. Even though Florian was a vessel for a demon, he was still just a young vampire—one with no real combat experience. Lisbeth, on the other hand, had trained since childhood, had fought in real battles, had even faced the elders without faltering.

And yet, she had nearly died.

Valentin sighed, a deep, weary breath. "This is my fault," he murmured.

It wasn’t a matter of Lisbeth’s strength. It wasn’t about whether she had been capable.

No—he had placed too much on her shoulders. He had burdened her with the consequences of his own choices. It was his decision to accept Florian. His decision to lock him in the northern tower. And now, his daughter had paid the price.

"Boris, tell me honestly—you want Florian dead too, don’t you?"

The question hit like a blade, sharp and unyielding. The margrave stiffened. The king had always been perceptive, but this time, his words cut too close. Boris cleared his throat, preparing to answer—

A sharp knock at the door interrupted him.

"Your Majesty!" A knight burst into the office, barely waiting for permission to enter. Urgency bled into his voice. "Lady Maris has returned." He took a breath before adding, "His Majesty the Emperor is with her, and he’s requesting to meet with Florian."

***

King Valentin had little regard for the emperor.

Emperor Kaan had long abandoned courtesy, acting as he pleased under the guise of diplomacy. Sending the Imperial Army to Eira in the name of protection—a protection King Valentin had never requested—was nothing short of a power play. A blatant disregard for boundaries.

So if he chose to return the favor now—making the emperor wait while he tended to his mistress first—then so be it. Kaan had no right to complain.

The moment Maris stepped into the room, Valentin pulled her into a long, heartfelt embrace. He felt the tension in his shoulders ease. His expression brightened, though fatigue still lingered in the creases of his face. He refused to let go of her hand as he guided her to the sofa.

"You have a lot to tell me," he murmured.

Maris nodded, her gaze steady. "Yes, Your Majesty. Please forgive me for making decisions without your permission. But this was urgent—I had to act." She hesitated, then added, "I’m responsible for this too. I saved the demon once... so I can’t stand by while others suffer for it."

King Valentin brushed his thumb gently over the back of her hand. "I wish you would rely on me more. Am I so unreliable?"

Her eyes widened. "That’s not what I meant!" she protested. "I just... I know what you’re going through. I didn’t want to add to your burdens."

The warmth between them lingered for only a moment before Maris brought the conversation back to its most pressing point.

"The emperor claims he knows a way to save Florian from the demon."

A pause. Then, she added with quiet certainty—

"But I don’t trust him."