The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 611

Chapter 611: The Crown’s Punishment

[Third Person].

The arrival of Oscar Elrod at the Fellowes’s Residence was an unexpected visit.

Every servant in the household froze at his sudden, unexpected presence.

Reginald, who had been seated in his study nursing a glass of whiskey despite the scorching afternoon sun, stiffened. His jaw tightened, as if understanding something amiss.

A few moments later, a servant hurried in, pale. "Sir... the Royal Adviser is here."

Reginald rose slowly. "Let him in."

---

Oscar did not come to the Fellowes’s Residence alone. Two royal guards stood behind him, armoured, silent, and immovable. The sight alone was enough to turn the air thick.

Reginald forced composure onto his face as he stepped into the main sitting room. "Oscar," he greeted, though the title Your Grace died in his throat.

Oscar did not bow to him either. He did not smile as he unrolled a sealed scroll bearing the royal crest.

"By order of His Majesty, King Draven Oatrun of Stormveil."

The words echoed in the sitting area. Servants lined the walls, and not one dared breathe. But Reginald’s pride forced him to remain standing.

Then, Oscar’s gaze lifted calmly. "Kneel."

The word landed like a snowball.

For one suspended second, Reginald considered refusing. But the guards shifted slightly behind Oscar, forcing him to swallow his fury and kneel before his servants. Before his household, and before the man who used to answer to him.

Then, Oscar began reading.

"Reginald Fellowes is hereby found guilty of dividing the Council of Elders, fostering discord within the royal court, and deliberately challenging the authority of the Crown..."

Reginald’s hands clenched into fists against the floor.

"...He openly disregarded the newly crowned King and Queen, and was absent from the Coronation Ceremony without formal explanation or royal permission..."

Reginald’s shoulders went rigid. Now, even if he was in doubt before as to Oscar’s sudden visit, now, he knew what today’s business was all about.

"...Evidence confirms continued attempts to undermine the Crown and destabilize Stormveil’s governance..."

A faint tremor passed through his jaw, but Oscar did not pause.

"...Therefore, by royal authority, Reginald Fellowes is permanently expelled from the Council of Elders. He is stripped of all voting rights, advisory privileges, and any claim to leadership within Stormveil..."

The servants began to tremble. Their master was being dealt a heavy punishment; what then would be their fate?

"...Furthermore, the noble status of the Fellowes family is hereby revoked. The house of Fellowes shall no longer bear noble distinction under the Crown..."

This was the final blow that broke the camel’s back. Reginald’s breath faltered. His family name was gone.

Oscar’s voice remained steady.

"...Effective immediately, Reginald Fellowes is placed under house arrest for a period of three months. He shall not step beyond the four corners of the Fellowes estate. Any violation shall be treated as treason."

The room fell into suffocating silence.

Oscar finished up. "This decree is final."

Then, he rolled the scroll back up and stepped forward, placing both the Royal Decree and the expulsion letter in front of Reginald.

"His Majesty extends mercy by allowing your household to remain intact."

Mercy? If anything, Reginald felt bile rise in his throat.

Oscar stepped back. "Rise."

His breathing grew heavier. ’Draven—that ungrateful pup. He had the audacity to humiliate me, forcing me to kneel in my own home, before my servants.’

Then, her voice broke into a whisper. "We... we are no longer nobles?"

Reginald stopped pacing, but didn’t bother replying to her. That silence was answer enough.

Wanda’s knees nearly gave out. All her life, all her pride, her status, her name—everything was gone overnight.

She covered her mouth as sobs escaped her. She could no longer stand among noble women or lift her head at gatherings; she was worth more wearing her name like a crown.

’Queen Meredith.’

The title burned in her mind. She collapsed onto the sofa, crying openly now. Her father just stormed past her without a word, disappearing down the corridor. Then, within a few seconds, the door to his study slammed.

Wanda sat there alone, feeling disgraced and reduced to nothing. After a long while, she wiped her tears with trembling hands. Her expression changed with something colder.

She pushed herself up, limped to her bedroom, and, inside, grabbed her phone. Her fingers shook as she dialled a contact.

The line connected almost immediately.

"Levi..." she choked on her fresh tears.

Her brother’s voice came through, confused. "Wanda? What happened?"

"Come home."

"What? Why? Wanda, what’s wrong?"

Her voice cracked. "Draven."

"Draven? What happened to him? Tell me—"

"Just come home," she said, and quickly ended the call as the hatred in her heart hardened.