Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother novel Chapter 116

Chapter 116: Chapter 116

Kaelen’s POV

The border patrol reports blurred together.

I’d been staring at the same page for what felt like an eternity. The words kept rearranging themselves—troop movements along the eastern ridge, supply chain delays at the Ashford outpost, a skirmish with rogue scouts near the river crossing. Each report demanded decisions. Each decision demanded focus I no longer possessed.

I pressed my knuckles against my eyes. Hard. Until the darkness behind my lids sparked white.

The communication stone on my desk hummed. I reached for it before the second pulse.

"Your Majesty." Physician Morgan’s voice, steady as always. Measured. "The morning assessment is complete. The child remains healthy. Strong heartbeat, excellent development. No concerns there."

"And Elara?"

The pause told me everything.

"Her wounds continue to close. The physical recovery is progressing, albeit slowly. However—" Another pause. "Her energy levels remain significantly depleted. The loss of her wolf has fundamentally altered her constitution. I would recommend continued bed rest for the foreseeable future."

I closed my eyes. "How long?"

"I cannot give you a precise answer, Your Majesty. Weeks, at minimum. Possibly longer. Her body is learning to function under entirely new conditions. We must be patient."

Patient. The word tasted like ash.

"Keep me informed. Any change—anything at all."

"Of course, sire."

The stone went dark. I set it down and stared at the stack of patrol reports again. The ink swam.

Behind me, the study door crashed open.

"DADDY!"

Valerius burst through the doorway like a small, curly-haired cannonball. His boots were muddy—tracking prints across the carpet I’d have to answer for later—and his cheeks were flushed red from running. Those dark gold eyes, identical to mine, blazed with excitement.

"Daddy, guess what! Sir Cassian said we can go see Mommy today! He said the healers said it’s okay and we can bring her something and I picked flowers but they got a bit squished because I was running—"

He skidded to a stop in front of my desk, breathless. One small fist clutched a mangled bouquet of what might have once been wildflowers.

Despite everything, something loosened in my chest.

"Slow down." I pushed back from the desk. "Breathe."

"I am breathing." He thrust the crushed flowers toward me. "These are for Mommy. Can we go now? Please? I’ve been waiting forever."

"After lunch. I need to finish—"

"But you always need to finish something."

His lower lip pushed out. The expression was pure Elara. That same stubborn defiance wrapped in something soft enough to disarm you completely.

I opened my mouth to respond, but a knock on the doorframe cut me off.

"Am I interrupting a critical negotiation?"

Claire stood in the doorway. Her pale blue eyes swept the scene with practiced efficiency—muddy boot prints, crushed flowers, a young boy vibrating with impatience, and an emperor who hadn’t slept properly in weeks. Her lined face settled into an expression I recognized. Disapproval disguised as concern.

She’d worn that expression a lot lately.

"Claire." I straightened in my chair. "I was about to review the—"

"You look terrible," she said flatly.

"Thank you."

"I’m serious, Kaelen." She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Claire was the only person in the empire who used my first name without flinching. She’d earned that right. When my parents were murdered, she was the one who pulled a terrified boy out of his hiding place and told him he was going to survive. She’d been managing my life ever since. "When did you last eat? And don’t say you had black tea, because tea is not food."

"I had—"

"Black tea. I knew it." She turned to Valerius. "Young prince, would you give me a moment alone with your father? Sir Cassian has something for you in the corridor."

Valerius looked between us. Then, with the strategic instincts of a born negotiator, he set the crushed flowers on my desk. "These are for Mommy. Don’t forget them."

"I won’t."

He fixed me with a stare that was unsettlingly paternal for someone who barely reached my hip. Then he marched out.

Claire waited until his footsteps faded. Then she sat in the chair across from me without invitation—another privilege only she possessed—and folded her hands.

"I need to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it."

My jaw tightened. "Go ahead."

"My son’s wife has developed complications with her pregnancy. Serious ones. She needs full-time care, and there’s no one else in the family who can provide it."

I stared at her.

"I’m leaving next week," she continued. "I’ll be gone at least two months. Possibly longer, depending on how the birth goes."

The words landed one at a time. Each one a small, precise detonation.

"Two months."

"At minimum."

I leaned back. The chair creaked under the shift of weight. Around me, the study felt suddenly enormous—the maps on the walls, the stacked correspondence, the patrol reports, the trade agreements, the judicial appeals, the military briefings. All of it. Every thread of this empire that Claire had been quietly holding together while I ran between my mate’s hospital bed and the war room.

"Kaelen." Her voice softened. Just slightly. "You cannot do this alone. You are already stretched beyond what any man should bear. And with Elara still recovering—"

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