Page 68 of The Curse of the Goddess

The man scoffed, grabbed the child, and pulled her away from her mother’s embrace. “Her daughter.”

The throne room fell silent, and the audience’s collective breath seemed to hitch as the man’s words sunk in. Murmurs and whispers spread like wildfire among the courtiers, their faces contorted with surprise and concern. Some exchanged incredulous glances, while others shook their heads in disapproval. The tension in the room was clear, and the air thickened with unease.

A few brave souls voiced their dissent, speaking out against the man’s request with raised voices, while others shifted uncomfortably in their seats, unsure of how to react. Valda’s expression was inscrutable as she took in the reactions of her courtiers.

The man shifted nervously, sweat glistening on his brow as he realized the gravity of his words. He released the girl, who scurried back to her mother’s embrace.

“Your Highness, she is a child!” the woman pleaded, tightening her hold on the child. “This man has come to our lives; he won’t leave us alone. He claims my child is his mate!”

“She is!”

“How can you know! She is a child; she is not twenty-one!”

“Enough!” Valda yelled rising from her imposing throne, a hush fell over the audience. All eyes turned towards her, and the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Maris held her breath as Valda placed a cautious hand over the handle of the Heaven Sword. “You claim this child is your mate?”

The man nodded and voiced his answer. “She is.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“Well…” he stuttered looking back at the woman and the child. “Take her home.”

“Her home is with me!” The mother snarled.

“Mates should be together. She has no business interfering!”

“How old are you?” Valda asked her frown deepening. “You sound old enough to be the girl’s father.”

“It does not matter—”

“Answer my question.”

The man’s breath hitched, his hand rubbing his pant leg nervously before answering her question. “Forty-five, Your Highness.”

“Your Highness, she is eight. She doesn’t know what it is to be a mate, she—” The woman was silenced by Valda’s raised hand. She cowered back, taking steps away from the man.

“You want to form a mating bond with an eight-year-old?”

“No– I… I want to be with my mate. It is my right! My… My mate died exactly nine years ago. The moment I saw this child and she looked at me I knew my Arla was in her. She is there and—” He swallowed hard. “I need her with me.”

“I am sorry for your mate’s death. I can only imagine the emptiness.”

The man nodded, a soft smile spreading across his nervous features. “So, you see, Your Highness. I know it must be wild but—”

“I think an eight-year gap is better than thirty-seven,” Valda said.

Maris’s heart dropped as she understood what was about to happen.

In one swift motion, Valda drew the Heaven Sword from its sheath. The blade gleamed in the light before it pierced right through the man’s stomach. With a furious scream, Valda pulled the blade upward, and then stepped back. The blade cut through the air with a whistling sound, slicing through the man’s body with effortless precision. Blood sprayed in all directions, and the man fell to the ground, lifeless.

The woman behind him screamed, turning the child’s face away and shielding her with her own body.

Maris watched in horror as the scene unfolded. Her hand instinctively went to her mouth in shock, and her eyes widened with disbelief.

The courtiers recoiled, some gasping, others covering their eyes. Valda stood over the fallen man, her chest heaving, her sword still dripping with blood. Opening her eyes, she raised her chin, as if daring anyone to challenge her.

The throne room was struck speechless, their faces pale and eyes wide with shock. Whispers and murmurs filled the air as fear and uncertainty gripped the courtiers and spectators alike.

“I will not tolerate using the holy connection of mates as a reason for such sickening actions,” Valda snarled, putting the bloody sword back in sheath. “If this man’s claims were true, then they will find each other again once he is reborn.” The mutter died out into a soft whisper except the soft sobbing of the woman and her child. “Go home. You are safe. He will not bother you again.”

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