I beg you—I NEED YOU, ARES HALVARD CONSTANTINE!
"VALESKA!" Ares roared, leaping from his desk chair with such force that everyone in the room jolted in flabbergasts.
Even the envoy from Ishtar froze, bewilderment.
Ares had previously ordered Arthur to conceal the envoy's presence, especially during this critical moment—when the High Council of the Scarfox Temple, the nobles opposing Ares, and the rebellious citizens were all demanding his abdication.
Thanks to Aravell's fierce condemnation, Silas's support, and the voices of loyal citizens, Ares still had allies.
Most surprising of all, the only noble to publicly support him was Marquess Granville.
Valeska's lifeblood surged so strongly that Ares could clearly sense the scarlet Carlsson musk of his wife's body. The vibration gripped his heart.
At first, he was perplexed—frozen in place, needing time to confirm his instincts weren't deceiving him.
"What's wrong, Your Majesty?" Arthur asked, startled and alert.
