Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 794

Chapter 794: Regret Was Too Late

Astaria was drenched in sorrow. The air, once filled with anticipation and excitement for the royal match between the princes, now carried the weight of despair.

The arena that had been a grand spectacle was now a battlefield littered with the aftermath of violence. For the first time since the war with the Night Courts, several Fae courts had clashed so violently, and no one had foreseen the tragedy that would unfold.

Fae children cried inconsolably, some of them separated from their parents in the chaos. Their small, trembling voices called out in fear, their bright eyes searching for familiar faces amidst the wreckage. Parents, equally frantic, searched for their lost little ones, their hearts pounding with dread. Shouts of names filled the air, desperate and filled with anxiety, as families tried to reunite in the midst of the destruction.

Healers rushed through the crowds, their hands glowing with magic as they tried to mend the wounded. Some were beyond saving, their injuries too grievous, their bodies already cold and lifeless.

Others clung to life, their loved ones by their side, whispering frantic prayers for their survival. Cries of anguish echoed across the arena as those who had lost someone finally realized their fate. Grief spread like wildfire, consuming the kingdom.

Faeries stood in clusters, their faces etched with disbelief and anger. Many of them cursed the day they had chosen to come to the arena, bitterly regretting their decision to witness what was supposed to be a friendly contest. Instead of a celebration of skill and strength, they had watched their world crumble before their eyes.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen," a Summer Court Fae muttered, his voice shaking as he gazed at the bodies strewn across the arena floor. "We were here for our prince, to cheer him on. How did it turn into this?"

The mood in the kingdom was bleak. The sun, once shining brightly, now seemed muted, casting long, shadowy tendrils over the land. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, a reflection of the sorrow that clung to Astaria like a shroud. The very air felt heavy, as though the kingdom itself mourned with its people.

Some of the Faeries began to quietly leave the arena, their steps slow and somber. What had started as a day of celebration had turned into one of the darkest days in Astaria’s history. There was no joy left to be found here, no triumph or pride in what had taken place. Only tears, regret, and the painful sting of loss.

The royal entourage arrived back at the palace without incident, their faces pale with the weight of what had transpired in the arena. The tension was thick, and King Oberon’s eyes were dark with fury. As soon as they were safely inside, the king turned to Lennox, his most trusted advisor and guard.

"Lennox," Oberon said, his voice cold and measured, "call for a meeting immediately. All the cabinet members. I want them in the throne room within the hour."

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify