Chapter 106: The Altar of Lies

Chapter 106: The Altar of Lies "We are already late," I said, my voice a low, urgent murmur that cut through the heavy silence of the antechamber. "It will be time for me to step up soon." Lilith, the Dragon Queen, nodded, her crimson eyes, which had been so full of a cold, righteous fury, now gleaming with a new, dangerous light. "Yes," she agreed, her own voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. "And my absence will backfire on me if I linger too long. I have many enemies behind my back, and they will use any perceived weakness against me." We left the small, silent chamber, the heavy, sound-proofed door closing behind us with a soft, final thud. She returned to her throne with a graceful, regal poise, her expression once again a mask of cool, bored indifference. I, on the other hand, made my way back toward the stage, my own heart a frantic, panicked drum in my chest. The game was afoot. The pieces were in motion. And I was about to make my move. The high priest, his face a mask of serene, pious authority, was just reaching the climax of the ceremony. He announced, his voice a deep, resonant thing that echoed through the vast, silent cathedral, "And now, for the sacred kiss that will bind these two souls for all eternity." Leon, his own face a mask of possessive, triumphant glee, turned to Christina, his hands reaching for her veil. But then, I moved. I pulled Christina up from her kneeling position, my own hand, which had been resting on her shoulder, now a firm, possessive grip. The entire crowd froze, a collective, shocked gasp ripping through the silent chamber. The guards, who had been standing at the edges of the altar, lunged forward, their swords drawn, their faces a mask of furious, protective rage. And then, Lilith spoke. "Everyone," she said, her voice a low, dangerous growl that was filled with a barely suppressed, volcanic fury, "lower your weapons." The guards, their own movements a blur of trained, instinctual obedience, immediately sheathed their swords, their own faces a mixture of confusion and a dawning, unwilling fear. The hall, which had been on the verge of erupting into chaos, fell silent once more. Lilith rose from her throne, her own form a towering, intimidating presence in the dim, flickering firelight. "That boy, right there," she said, her voice a clear, commanding thing that rang with an absolute, unyielding authority, "is the true lover of the bride. And Leon, the son of our esteemed Knight Commander, has done something terrible. He has attempted to snatch away a pure, true love, and has forced this innocent girl to marry him against her will." The hall remained silent, the assembled nobles too shocked, too stunned, to even whisper. "I know," she continued, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, her crimson eyes a mixture of disappointment and a righteous, unyielding fury, "that you all might be wondering why I would believe in this boy, this stranger. So why not ask the girl herself?" She left her place by the throne and slowly, deliberately, walked toward the altar, her every movement a study in regal grace. She stopped before Christina, her own expression softening for a moment into one of gentle, maternal concern. "Tell the people who are present here the truth," she said, her voice a soft, encouraging murmur. Christina was silent, her own small body trembling, her face a mask of pale, terrified indecision. "Don’t worry," Lilith said, her voice a low, fierce whisper that was for Christina alone. "No one will lay a hand on you. I will make sure of it." Her gaze, for a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, flicked to the Knight Commander, a silent, deadly warning in their crimson depths. Christina took a deep, shuddering breath, and then she spoke, her own voice a broken, trembling thing that was filled with a raw, honest pain. "Yes," she whispered, her voice a barely audible breath. "Whatever he has told you... it is the truth. I never wanted this marriage. He forced me. He told me that if I refused, he would make sure that my entire family would be wiped out." She was in tears now, her small body shaking with silent, wracking sobs. Lilith, her own face a mask of cold, righteous fury, turned to the crowd, a devilish, triumphant smile on her face. "And what about the boy here?" she asked, her voice a low, dangerous purr as she turned her gaze to Christina once more. "Do you love him?" Christina hesitated for a moment, her own gaze flickering to me, a silent, pleading question in her sky-blue eyes. Then, with a new, dawning resolve, she said, her own voice a quiet, unwavering whisper, "Yes. I love him." Lilith turned back to the crowd, her own voice a clear, ringing thing that was filled with a righteous, unyielding conviction. "Have you all seen what they have said? Our kingdom is known for its justice, for its kindness, and yet here we are, witnessing a tragedy of the highest order. A lady who has been through hell, and a boy who didn’t care about his own life, who showed up directly in the middle of a royal wedding to save the one he loves. It is tragic, and impressive, at the same time." She turned her gaze to Leon, her own eyes a mixture of disappointment and a cold, hard fury. "So this matter will be solved as it has always been solved in our kingdom, from the time of our ancestors. Justice will be given." She moved toward Leon, her own form a towering, intimidating presence. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" "She is lying!" he spluttered, his own face a mask of pale, desperate denial. "I never did that. And that... that lover of hers... it is all a fabrication. I have seen her connections. There are none which involve him. It is... it is just a plot. They are targeting me." "Is that so?" Lilith said, her own voice a low, dangerous purr. She then looked at me, her own eyes a mixture of amusement and a strange, unreadable curiosity. "Boy," she said, her voice a clear, commanding thing, "you too love her, right?" I nodded, my own face a mask of grim, determined resolve. Then, she smiled, a slow, dangerous, and utterly beautiful expression. "Then why not make it official?" she said, her own voice a low, triumphant purr. "Here, right now, in front of all of these witnesses. Prove to them, and to me, that your love is real." I looked at her then, my own mind a chaotic battlefield of conflicting emotions. Hey, I thought, a silent, desperate plea. What the hell are you doing? That’s not what was in the script. Her expression, however, was a mask of cool, calm, and utter confidence. I am doing, she seemed to say, what needs to be done. The world seemed to slow, the murmuring of the crowd fading to a distant, irrelevant hum. There was only the two of us, standing on a stage of our own making, the unwilling actors in a drama that had just taken a sharp, unexpected, and very dangerous turn. I looked at Christina, at her pale, beautiful face, at the tears that still clung to her long, silvery lashes. And in her eyes, I saw not fear, but a dawning, unwilling trust. And then, I leaned in. The kiss was not a gentle, hesitant thing. It was a desperate, all-consuming fire, a declaration of war against a world that had tried to break us both. Her lips were soft, trembling, a stark, beautiful contrast to the cold, hard lines of my own. For a moment, she was stiff, her body a rigid line of tension. But then, as if by some unspoken, mutual understanding, she melted into me, her own arms wrapping around my neck, her own lips answering mine with a passion that was as surprising as it was profound. The crowd, which had been so silent, so still, erupted in a chorus of shocked, disbelieving gasps. But I didn’t hear them. I didn’t see them. In that moment, there was only her. Her taste, her scent, the soft, warm pressure of her body against my own. It was a kiss that was a lie, a beautiful, terrible deception. But it was also the beginning of a new, and very dangerous, truth. It was a seal on a political alliance, a personal bond, a shared, desperate future, all forged in the fires of a single, stolen moment, under the guise of a love that was not yet real, but that had the power, I knew, to become something far, far more. The world rushed back in, a roaring cacophony of scandalized whispers and shocked awe. I saw Leon’s face, contorted in impotent rage. But it was Lilith’s satisfied, predatory smile that mattered most. The gambit had paid off.