Chapter 7: The Queen’s Revenge

So I sat by the bridge, watching the otherworldly Caleb from afar, suppressing my hatred as I said softly. My voice was honeyed poison.

“Caleb, I’m tired. If you still think I owe you, I’m willing to become human and let you do as you wish.” My words were sweet as syrup, laced with venom. I smiled inwardly.

He actually believed me. His trust was his undoing. My heart leapt with triumph.

There was never any poor village girl named Lila—just me, hiding my ambition behind an innocent mask. The deception was perfect, complete. I reveled in it.

He built our cottage just outside his domain, married me, and tried to have me bear his child. His efforts were futile, blinded by his own arrogance. I watched him, waiting for my chance.

All I needed was the right moment to strike, to kill him and become the king of the dead myself. The opportunity was finally here. My patience was rewarded.

The two greedy souls at the bottom of the lake became my pawns, guiding ‘Lila’ on her path. Their desperation was useful, their loyalty bought with promises. I used them without remorse.

“Want to kill me?” I bit Caleb’s neck lightly, feeling his pulse under my teeth. I swallowed my urge to devour him, chaining his neck with ghostly shackles and pulling tight. The power surged through me, intoxicating. My smile widened.

Red spirits are fierce—once they strike, the victim’s soul is burned by fire for three days. The magic was old, primal. I felt it in my bones.

Caleb, weakened, was now my prisoner. The chains glowed, binding him to my will. I relished the power.

The chains vanished into his skin, binding him to my will. The mark would never fade. Satisfaction thrummed through me.

I grinned. “How grand should a king of the dead’s wedding be? Let me see.” My laughter rang out, bright and wild. The sound echoed in the darkness.

Caleb shook off my hand and stood coldly. I followed, delighted. The balance of power had shifted, and I reveled in it. My eyes sparkled.

Outside, the world had changed. The air shimmered, the ground humming with energy. My breath caught in awe.

Not far away, a ghostly palace rose from the ground, lanterns of golden flame lighting up the city like a festival, even more splendid than any palace in the living world. The sight stole my breath, awe and triumph mingling in my chest. I stood taller.

The cottage blew away in the wind, vanishing into nothing. The past was gone, erased in an instant. I felt free.

Caleb stood behind me, worshipped by a hundred spirits. Their eyes were wide, filled with fear and reverence. I smirked.

This was his true domain—a silver river hanging from the dark sky, winding around the palace and flowing into the distance… The beauty was haunting, otherworldly. I drank it in.

After years of scheming, I was finally here. The taste of victory was sweet, intoxicating. My lips curled in satisfaction.

With a wicked smile, I yanked the chain, making Caleb bow. His pride burned, but he could not resist. I laughed softly.

In front of all the spirits, I kissed his lips. The gesture was both claim and humiliation. My heart raced with triumph.

It looked loving, but was pure humiliation. The spirits murmured, their voices a chorus of shock and awe. I basked in their whispers.

I heard the wind whispering, and laughed even louder. “Holding the king hostage to command the lords—what a rush!” My voice echoed through the palace, triumphant. My eyes shone.

Caleb’s face was as cold as stone. His eyes promised retribution, but for now, he was mine. I met his gaze, unafraid.

Ahead stretched a wedding procession as far as the eye could see—ghosts in red robes, twisting their necks to stare at us. The pageantry was grotesque, beautiful. My breath caught at the sight.

In the middle was a grand bridal carriage, decked in gold, pulled by four of the most human-like spirits. The carriage gleamed, a testament to Caleb’s power and pride. I ran my hand along the gilded edge.

Caleb had gone to great lengths to make ‘Lila’ truly marry into his domain. The irony was delicious. I savored it.

A noseless little spirit crept forward. “Please, King, mount your horse. Madam, into the carriage.” Its voice was thin, trembling. I smiled at its fear.

“No need. He’ll walk with me.” My words were firm, brooking no argument. I tightened my grip on the chain.

“This…” Whispered voices all around. “That’s not how it’s done…” The spirits shifted, uncertain. I grinned at their confusion.

I laughed softly, climbed into the carriage, and left the problem to Caleb. My smile was wide, daring him to defy me. My heart pounded with excitement.

With a slight tug on the chain, Caleb’s cold voice rang out: “Fine.” His acceptance was grudging, but absolute. The spirits fell silent.

The king of the dead’s wedding, a hundred spirits clearing the way, music blaring to the heavens. The procession moved forward, unstoppable. My heart soared.

Dressed in crown and scarlet robes, I lifted the curtain, peeking at Caleb walking by my side. His head was held high, but the chain glinted at his throat. I smiled in satisfaction.

“The thing you never finished back then—I’ve finished it for you. Why aren’t you happy?” My words were soft, mocking, and victorious. I watched his face, savoring my triumph.

Somewhere beneath all that silk and gold, his missing heart was still out there—waiting.