𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄

Chapter 28

Kaida's finger twitches while on the floor.

She was still alive. Whatever Maven had done, was a smoke screen.

He had gently closed her eyes shut, as she 'took her final breath' and she went along with it.

It was her blood on the floor, wasn't it? She felt the pain. Oh God, that searing pain. It was real. And yet here she is, alive and conscious, remaining as still as she could. Waiting for her chance...

Maven circles back up to the throne, shielding Kaida's body from Adrien's view.

Adrien arches a blonde brow, still somewhat fascinated by the turn of events, but content, nonetheless.

"You sit on the throne for now Adrien, but just know I have as much power as you do. If not more."

Maven gives a barbed warning to Adrien as he stands by his right-hand side, with his hands clasped behind his back.

The Prince looks down at him with a particularly pointed glare.

Adrien looks up, he heeds the warning, but he does not reply.

Maven was exactly how people described him as to Adrien. Adrien is intrigued by his stunning countenance which does not match his cutthroat nature.

Perhaps there was someone Adrien could finally relate to, after 36 years of walking alone.

"ADRIEENNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

A rough and deep shout rips through the throne room, echoing off the baroque walls and stained-glass window.

Maven's eyes widen in recognition.

Cal comes staggering down the central path that leads to the throne.

He shoves aside a few of the corpses that guard the door. And they melt to the floor.

The fight with Adrien's horsemen had evidently been to the death.

In the 4 vs 2, Elias had been gravely injured as him and Cal fought back-to-back.

Cal himself had a very cut across his eyebrow, the deep face wound dramatically leaking lines of silver, making it appear deeper than it actually was.

He's got a silencing collar half broken on his neck, the exposed wires digging right into his jugular.

The horsemen had attempted to stop him permanently, and they nearly did.

But fighting against Cal and Elias, together. No chance. All they could do was weaken Cal, and they died in their efforts to stop him.

Cal had to fight through the chaos ensuing outside the Palace walls with Elias draped around his shoulder, barely able to stand.

The allies were still fighting off the undead, as well as their own traitorous silvers. The sounds of shouting, sword against sword and the drone of the undead filled the air.

Cal had handed Elias straight over to some Blonos healers, ready to help, before making his way painstakingly to the Palace.

Even on the way, he was still fighting. The undead would run at him, trying their luck, and he would blast them with stray infernos. Damning them to fiery hells.

Cal himself holds onto his shoulder as he staggers in a few more feet, he grits his teeth in pain. He had dislocated it, but had proceeded to pop it back into place. But it was still sore as hell.

There is a large gash across his once gleaming armour. The metal torn to bits, and inches away from skin.

The first thing Cal sees is Adrien sat on his throne, with the crown atop his head.