Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 805: Your Blessings

For the first time in his life, King Oberon wished he had daughters rather than sons. Perhaps then, he wouldn’t be dealing with this bewildering situation.

"What did you say again?" King Oberon asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he stared at his son.

Prince Andre of the Autumn Court and Islinda knelt before the king, who sat on his throne with the most befuddled expression one could ever see on a leader.

Prince Andre responded firmly, "Islinda and I have decided to get married."

King Oberon opened his mouth to say something, but words failed him. He tried again, lifting his hand this time, yet he was completely speechless. What in the Fae was he supposed to say? He had gone from dealing with the whims of the council and the kingdom to this? At this rate, Oberon was sure that his children intended to kill him before his time.

He finally managed to ask, his question targeted at Islinda. "Is this true? You want to marry Andre? Not..." His words trailed off, heavy with implication. The silence that followed was thick with tension, both of them knowing exactly whom he meant without needing to say it.

Islinda looked away, unable to meet his gaze. She felt the weight of his unspoken question pressing down on her, the slight hope in his eyes cutting through her resolve.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I have made up my mind," she answered, her voice steady but lacking conviction.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air growing heavy with the gravity of the moment. However, Andre looked at Islinda with a smile that said he was satisfied with her answer. He was tempted to reach out and pat her head with the words, "Well done."

King Oberon’s deep frown only deepened. He was not a powerful king for nothing, and right now, he could smell Islinda’s bullshit from miles away. However, everything was confusing. He couldn’t accuse Andre of blackmailing Islinda—it didn’t make sense. Andre wasn’t that kind of person. Moreover, why would he do that? Oberon had this nagging feeling that there was something going on between them that he wasn’t aware of.

So he said to Islinda, "If you wouldn’t mind, Islinda, I want to speak to my son."

Although he was polite, Islinda knew that he wasn’t asking. She bowed her head and stood to leave, only for Andre to grab her hand. She lifted a questioning brow, but Andre caressed the top of her palm and then brought it to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss. "I’ll be there with you shortly," he said.

Islinda saw the act for what it was—Andre putting on a show to convince his father that they had somehow fallen for each other.

Utter bullshit. Islinda felt sick to her stomach, and it took everything in her not to snatch her hand away and prove to the king how annoyed she was with this arrangement. Unfortunately, she had agreed to this.

It was her own carelessness. She had trusted Andre, and he had just thrown it in her face. Islinda had considered going to Aldric so many times in her head, but she couldn’t. It would only make everything worse. Aldric couldn’t know that she was getting married; that was the only way for Andre to live.

Although she hated Andre right now, it didn’t mean she wanted him dead. It was laughable, though—moments ago, she would have jumped at the opportunity to escape Aldric; now it seemed like a death sentence had been placed on her.

What had changed? She had completely and maddeningly fallen for the dark Fae prince. Although she would marry Andre, it was obvious that Aldric would have her heart for as long as she lived. frёewebnoѵēl.com

Once the door closed behind Islinda with a thudding finality, whatever warmth Oberon exuded moments ago vanished. He gave his beloved Andre a frigid look that could have frozen him on the spot.

"What in the Fae is going on with you? Tell me you’re joking right now."

"I’m not joking, Father," Andre lifted his gaze with a ferocity in his eyes. "Why would you think that I would be joking?"

"You—!" Oberon’s anger flared, his face reddening, veins bulging on his forehead. "Islinda belongs to your brother, Aldric!" He shouted, just in case Andre didn’t get it.

"She’s Aldric’s property, and you of all people should know how possessive he gets. Do you really want to start a fight with Aldric of all people? I already have my hands full with him and Valerie, and now you intend to add to the fray? I thought you were the smarter of them all, Andre." King Oberon was disappointed, to say the least.

"Contrary to your expectations, Father, I’m helping you out here."

"What?"

"The issues between Valerie and Aldric that you speak of—who do you think is the catalyst?"

The name "Islinda" was right on King Oberon’s tongue, but he held back, wanting to hear what Andre had to offer.

Andre continued at his father’s silence, "Islinda is the reason for the death duel in the first place, and look how that turned out. However, if I marry Islinda, that would put an end to their animosity."

King Oberon shook his head. "You’re playing with fire, Andre. Aldric would not stand for this."

"He wouldn’t have to—not when he doesn’t have a chance," Andre finally stood up to drive his point home. "I know what you’re afraid of, but Aldric wouldn’t kill me. Not when he knows that would hurt Islinda and make her a widow."

"Contrary to your thought, I believe Aldric would be more than delighted to make her a widow," King Oberon hinted at the fact Aldric would roast him alive.

Irritation flashed across Andre’s face, and he said, "All I need you to do, Father, is to hold back Aldric until the marriage ceremony is over. Afterward, I’ll leave Astaria with Islinda, and he won’t be able to find us. Nor would you be bothered about my safety."

King Oberon frowned deeply. "I am not in support of this, Andre."

"Why?" Andre sneered, "Because it’s Aldric, your beloved son?"

"Andre!" King Oberon warned, his voice on edge. He would not tolerate such insolence, even from his son.

But Andre was undeterred, his determination etched in every line of his face. King Oberon knew then that this wasn’t just a whim or a play for power—this was personal. And that, more than anything, worried him.

"All these years, I have been your faithful son," he began, his tone full of bitterness and resolve. "I never once contended for the throne, though I knew I could have been a worthy contender. I slaved away for my brothers and this kingdom, content with what I was given. And yet, when I ask for this one favor, you deny me?"

King Oberon’s gaze was sharp as he leaned forward, hands gripping the arms of his throne. "Andre," he said, his voice low and controlled, "do not try to manipulate me. I’m trying to save your life here. Aldric won’t take this lightly. You know what he’s capable of."

Andre’s eyes flashed with a determination that bordered on desperation. "The only good thing you could do for me now is to approve my marriage," he insisted. "But even if you don’t, I will go ahead and marry her. I wanted your blessing, your approval—nothing more. And, if you still care about my life, I need your help in imprisoning Aldric until the marriage is done tomorrow morning."

King Oberon’s stern facade finally cracked, his brow furrowing deeply as Andre’s words hung in the air between them. "Andre, this is madness."

But Andre had already made up his mind. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving his father alone with his thoughts.

As the door closed behind his son, King Oberon slumped back in his throne, running a hand through his graying hair. family. He was torn between his duty as a king and his love as a father.

His heart was heavier than ever, burdened by the impossible choice before him. He had always known Andre was strong-willed, but this—this was something else. Andre had never demanded anything for himself, had never shown ambition for the throne or for anything beyond what was asked of him. And now, the one thing he wanted threatened to tear their family apart.

His mind raced, searching for a way out of this mess, but nothing came. The thought of imprisoning Aldric was unthinkable—dangerous even. Aldric’s fury could be catastrophic, not just for the family, but for the entire kingdom. Yet, not letting Andre go through with this marriage could be equally disastrous.

Outside the throne room, Andre’s heart pounded in his chest as he saw Islinda waiting for him. For a moment, a small, hopeful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Despite everything, he was still drawn to her, his heart unwilling to let go of the decision he had made.

But Islinda’s gaze was cold, her lips set in a hard line. She didn’t wait for him to speak. Instead, she turned sharply on her heel and walked away, leaving him standing there, the smile fading from his face.

Andre’s jaw tightened as he watched her go, the sting of her rejection piercing deeper than he expected. But he said nothing. He understood her anger, her confusion. She would come around, he was certain of it. Once they were married, everything would change. It was only a matter of time.