Aldric watched as recognition dawned on Queen Maeve's face, the horrifying realization that he knew the truth, the secret she had kept buried for so long.
For a moment, the room was deathly still, as if time itself paused to mark the weight of her fear.
Then Aldric's malevolent grin spread wider, a twisted expression that made him look not like a mere Fae prince, but something far darker, a vengeful angel, ready to deliver judgment.
His smile was chilling.
Where others would have been consumed by rage, their faces twisted in fury, Aldric smiled through it all. He smiled through pain, through anger, through hatred.
Through the betrayal.
And now, he smiled in a way that made Maeve's blood run cold. His expression was one of pure, unfiltered madness, the kind that told her he was beyond reason. She had known Aldric for centuries, but this—this terrifying creature before her—was something else entirely.
