Chapter 41: I Am The Alpha Of The Child Eiravelle Was Carrying (2)

Elaria’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes were wide with shock. Arisia stared at the sovereign, her expression was a mixture of disbelief and something that might have been fear. Ariphale stood motionless, her face turn pale and her thoughts raced.

But it was Arielle who reacted most strongly. The young Prime Minister pulled away from Gertrude, forcing herself to stand on her own despite the pain that radiated through her body. She took a step toward Qazaethel, her eyes blazing with a mixture of emotions.

"What? What did you say?"

Arielle’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes were wide with shock as she stared at the Sovereign. She could not process the words she had just heard, could not make sense of the revelation that had been dropped into her lap like a stone. Her mind raced, grasping at fragments of thought that slipped through her fingers like water.

"Why?" She added, her voice cracked with emotion.

The single word carried the weight of everything she was feeling—confusion, anger, betrayal, and a desperate need to understand. She had spent hours locked in her room, had been left alone with her pain and her fears.

She had thought that she had known the worst, had believed that nothing could shock her more than the events of the day. But she had been wrong.

Qazaethel met Arielle’s gaze, her expression was carefully composed despite the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. She had known that this moment would come, had prepared herself for the anger and the accusations. But preparation did not make it easier to withstand.

"Forgive me for not telling you sooner," Qazaethel said, her voice was steady but soft. "I am still finding the right way to tell Eiravelle I was the alpha she met from the forest."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Arthion, Elaria, Arisia, and Ariphale gasped the moment they heard the sovereign’s admission. The room seemed to freeze, the very air was growing thick with tension.

They had all suspected something, had all wondered about the circumstances of Eiravelle’s pregnancy. But none of them had imagined this.

The Sovereign of Solkanaia was the Alpha who got Eiravelle pregnant.

Arielle remained conflicted, her emotions were warring within her. She wanted to scream, wanted to rage, wanted to demand answers that would make sense of the chaos that had consumed her family. But she also wanted to understand, wanted to know why the Empress had kept silent, why she had allowed Eiravelle to suffer alone.

"I will take responsibility—" Qazaethel began.

"You should!" Arielle cut her off, her voice was rising with anger. The words exploded from her mouth before she could stop them, fueled by hours of fear and frustration. "My sister was not here because of you! If you had already done that earlier, she wouldn’t have to be scared!"

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Arielle’s chest heaved with the force of her emotions, her hands are clenched into fists at her sides. She was the Prime Minister of Solkanaia, a woman who had faced down political rivals and hostile diplomats without flinching.

But she was also Eiravelle’s sister, and the thought of what Eiravelle had endured—the fear, the loneliness, the shame—made her want to tear the world apart.

Qazaethel did not get mad. She understood that Arielle was Eiravelle’s older sister, and she was very protective of her now that Eiravelle was pregnant. The anger was justified and the accusations were deserved.

Qazaethel had made mistakes, had let her fears and her political considerations keep her silent when she should have spoken up. She would bear the weight of Arielle’s fury because she had earned it.

"Arielle, she is the sovereign," Elaria said, her voice was trembling with anxiety.

Elaria had been watching the exchange with growing alarm, her mind was racing with the implications of the sovereign’s revelation. The sovereign was the alpha of Eiravelle’s child, she had been involved with a disgraced omega, and kept silent while that omega was cast out, humiliated, and forced to flee into the day.

The implications were staggering, the consequences were unimaginable. But even so, Elaria knew that Arielle was crossing a line, was speaking to the sovereign in a way that could have serious consequences.

"I don’t care!" Arielle yelled, her voice was breaking with emotion. "She may be a peasant or a beastman, an omega or a demon, I don’t care what she is! I care about Eiravelle more than I care about her being the sovereign now!"

She took a step forward, her eyes were blazing with fury, her body was trembling with the effort of holding herself together. The pain from her injuries radiated through her body, but she ignored it, pushed it aside. She could not afford to show weakness, not now, not when her sister needed her.

"You left my sister," Arielle continued, her voice was cracking. "Do you even know how scared she was?!"

Arielle’s eyes were wet with tears that she refused to let fall. She thought of Eiravelle, of the gentle omega who had always been too trusting, too naive, too kind for a world that had never shown her kindness in return. She thought of the fear that must have consumed her sister, the loneliness, and the despair.

Qazaethel remained neutral, hiding the emotions that threatened to break through her carefully constructed composure. She had spent centuries perfecting the art of hiding her feelings, of presenting a calm and unreadable exterior even when her heart was breaking. But Arielle’s words cut deep, it struck at the guilt that had been gnawing at her since she had learned the truth.

"Forgive me," Qazaethel said, her voice turned soft. "I will make it right."

Arielle shook her head, her expression was still filled with bitterness. "You should’ve never indulged with my sister, Your Majesty," she said, her voice was heavy with accusation. "She was young and naive. You shouldn’t have indulged with her when she asked you to take her purity away!"

The words hung in the air, heavy with judgment. Arielle was right. Her words had wisdom despite being simple. Eiravelle had been young, had been naive, had been vulnerable in ways that Qazaethel should have recognized.

But Qazaethel had been drawn to her, had been unable to resist the pull of her innocence and her beauty. She had taken what Eiravelle had offered, had given in to desires that she should have controlled.

"I know," Qazaethel replied, her voice became quiet. "But it happened now. And I am willing to take responsibility."

The words did little to soothe the mixing emotions in Arielle. She wanted to believe that the sovereign would make things right, wanted to trust that Eiravelle would be found and protected. But the anger was still there, burning beneath the surface, and the fear was still there, cold and relentless.

"I will look for Eiravelle," Arielle said, her voice was full of resolve.

She moved to leave, determined to find her sister, to bring her home. But when she took a step, she winced in pain and held onto her waist. The injuries she had sustained when her father had thrown her, had been worse than she had realized, and it left her body broken in ways that she had not fully acknowledged.

"Lordess Arielle, please just stay here," Zane begged, his voice was filled with concern.

But Arielle shook her head, her jaw was set with determination. "Eiravelle needed me," she said.

She took another step, and then another. But her body could not keep up with her will. The pain was too great, the exhaustion was too deep. Her vision blurred, her legs gave way, and she passed out.

Good thing Gertrude was beside her.

The servant caught Arielle before her body hit the cold marble floor, her arms are wrapping around the young Prime Minister with a strength that belied her years. Gertrude had been watching Arielle closely, had seen the way she was pushing herself beyond her limits, and she knew that she was on the verge of collapse.

Arthion and Elaria panicked. They rushed forward, their faces were pale with fear, their hands are reaching out to their daughter. The fact that Arielle had passed out meant that her injuries were deep, that the damage to her body was more severe than they had realized. The thought made their blood run cold.

Qazaethel watched the scene unfold, her expression was unreadable. She had seen Arielle’s determination, had witnessed the love that drove her to push past her own pain. It was a love that Qazaethel understood, a love that she felt for Eiravelle. And it was that love that compelled her to act.

She reached into her robe and withdrew a small bottle of elixir, the liquid inside was glowing with a soft, golden light. It was a rare and precious thing, a healing potion that could mend broken bones and soothe internal injuries. She had carried it with her for years, had kept it as a last resort for emergencies. But this was an emergency. Arielle needed it more than she did.

Qazaethel gave Zane the elixir, her movements were quick and precise. "Use this on her," she said, her voice was firm. "This will help her."

Zane nodded, his expression was grateful. He approached the unconscious Arielle, his hands are steady as he uncorked the bottle and poured a few drops of the elixir between her lips. The golden liquid glowed brighter for a moment, then faded as it began to work its magic.

Qazaethel watched for a moment, then turned and walked away. She had done what she could for Arielle, had given her the means to heal. But there was still work to be done, a search to conduct, and an omega to find.

She walked out of the manor, her footsteps were echoing through the silent corridors. The night air was cool against her skin, a welcome contrast to the stifling tension of the living room. She took a deep breath, letting the cold fill her lungs, and felt her mind clear.

She would find Eiravelle. She would bring her back. And she would make things right, no matter what it took.

The stars above Solkanaia twinkled in the darkness, indifferent to the drama unfolding below. The city was quiet, the streets were empty, some citizens were asleep in their beds. But the search continued, the dark elite soldiers moved through the shadows, their eyes scanned everywhere for any sign of the missing omega.

And somewhere in the city, Eiravelle was alone, frightened, and pregnant. She did not know that the Empress was searching for her, did not know that the truth had been revealed. She only knew that she was alone, that she had lost everything, and that she had to survive.

For the child growing inside her, she would survive.

No matter what.