Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 800: Sacrificial Lamb

"W-what?" Lord Omani croaked, his voice trembling as his tongue felt heavy, nearly paralyzed with fear.

His eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for support from the other ministers, silently begging them to back him up. But now that Lord Omani’s sins had been exposed, the others were unwilling to risk becoming the next target of King Oberon’s ire. Recognizing the king’s tactics, they had no intention of aligning themselves with Omani, who was now the unfortunate scapegoat.

King Oberon wasn’t done with him. His icy gaze locked onto Omani as he asked, "Tell me minster Omani, what is the penalty for attacking a royal?"

Omani’s nerves were frayed, and he hesitated as fear held him in a tight vice. The look in Oberon’s eyes warned him that stalling would only bring more suffering. With a dry swallow, he stammered, "D-death, Your Majesty."

The king’s smirk was cruel, his eyes glinting with a predatory satisfaction. "So why then," Oberon drawled, "are you insisting on using my son as a sacrificial lamb? Or have you forgotten that so easily?"

The ministers shifted uncomfortably, their earlier bravado evaporating in the face of the king’s wrath. None dared to protest that Aldric had stopped the barrier from being planted, which had resulted in more Faeries being killed. They all knew that, but to speak it now would only incur Oberon’s ire. It was clear to everyone in the room that, despite their grievances, the king still held the superior power here. And none of them were foolish enough to challenge that openly.

King Oberon let his gaze sweep over the room, making sure his point would be thoroughly driven home. "I will be the one to punish my son, and it will not be by the whims of the masses.Nor will I allow this council to be ruled by fear. You will come up with other ways to appease the people and bring back normalcy to Astaria."

Minister Barin, eager to redeem himself after his earlier misstep, quickly spoke up. "I will order soldiers to the places of riots to subdue the crowds," he offered.

But his suggestion was met with groans and facepalms from the other ministers. Even King Oberon’s cold demeanor cracked slightly as he raised an eyebrow at the man’s ineptitude. At such a critical time, sending soldiers to suppress already angry crowds would only further aggravate the situation.

Seeing an opportunity to regain some favor, Lord Omani stepped forward once more. "Resources should be sent to the bereaved families and the injured," he proposed, his voice steadying as he spoke. "We should also monitor and control the rioting Faeries while subtly shifting the unmerited blame from Prince Aldric. We could also investigate the vagabonds who started the fight in the arena."

King Oberon nodded in approval, and Lord Omani breathed a silent sigh of relief. It seemed he had managed to claw his way back into the king’s good graces. The other ministers, seeing the king’s positive response, quickly followed suit, each offering their own suggestions for how to address the disaster in Astaria.

One by one, the other ministers began to propose their own solutions, eager to show their loyalty and usefulness. Some suggested organizing public ceremonies to honor the fallen, others spoke of offering incentives to calm the more influential families who had lost members in the chaos. They all sought to shift the narrative away from Prince Aldric’s involvement, instead painting the incident as the work of external agitators who had exploited the tensions between the Summer and Winter Courts.

Finally, when all had spoken, King Oberon asked, "Is there anything else that needs to be addressed?"

The ministers exchanged awkward glances, clearing their throats and avoiding eye contact. They had come to the throne room with the intent of condemning Prince Aldric, only to find their plans backfiring spectacularly. Now, with nothing else to bring forward, they remained silent.

King Oberon regarded them with a final, piercing look before dismissing them. "Then get to work immediately," he ordered, his voice brooking no dissent. "And have a pleasant day."

As the ministers filed out of the throne room, King Oberon strode purposefully toward the exit, his entourage following closely behind. Outside the chamber, the tension still hung in the air like a dark cloud.

The king had barely taken a few steps when the general approached him, his face set in a grim expression. "Your Majesty," the general began, his voice low, "With all due respect but you and I know that you can only delay this for so long, but in the end, Prince Aldric will have to be dealt with."

King Oberon’s face darkened, his jaw tightening as he turned to face the general. "Are you threatening me, General?" he snarled, his tone as dangerous as a drawn blade.

The general swallowed nervously but stood his ground. "No, Your Majesty. But the reality is that Aldric’s very existence is a threat. You executed all the other dark faeries, but you allowed your son to live. It’s only a matter of time before he reproduces, before the dark fae rise again. Then, all the efforts we’ve made to eradicate them will have been for nothing.The dark Faeries are an abomination that should not be allowed to resurrect!"

King Oberon’s face twisted with rage, and he stepped aggressively toward the general. "You should be grateful, General, that you are valuable to me," he hissed. "Otherwise, you would be dead where you stand. I will hear no more of this. Do not bring up this matter again unless you have a death wish."

The general paled, understanding the gravity of the king’s warning. He bowed his head in submission. "As you command, Your Majesty."

King Oberon’s patience was running thin, and any further mention of Aldric’s fate would push the king beyond the point of no return. So he bowed his head in submission.

Without another word, King Oberon turned on his heel and strode away, his entourage scrambling to keep up with his furious pace.

Yet Oberon was troubled. The burden of ruling was one thing, but the burden of protecting his son from a world that wanted him dead was another entirely. King Oberon clenched his fists, his mind racing with the terrible choices that lay ahead.

He knew that the day of reckoning would come, and when it did, he would have to make a choice—between the love for his son and the safety of his kingdom.