Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 85: Chapter 85

Lance’s POV
The last folder snapped shut beneath my palm and I reached beneath the desk’s front panel, pressing the false groove carved into the underside. The panel clicked. The safe opened and I placed the heavy, iron seal of the pack within.
Even if no one else dared touch it, it had belonged there for generations.
My hand had barely left the compartment when a knock broke through the silence and Vivian walked in.
She leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed.
“I take it,” I said coolly, “you couldn’t help but stage that little balcony conversation beneath my window.”
She arched a brow but said nothing.
I closed another folder, stacking it neatly.
“The air carries well in this wing,” I continued. “I didn’t even need to strain to hear you.” I lifted my gaze just enough to catch the flicker in her expression. “You raised your voice deliberately. You wanted me to listen.”
Vivian pushed off the frame, sauntering inside.
“I did,” she admitted. “I thought planting a little fear in her might be useful.”
I locked the top drawer.
“I think your plan may have had the opposite effect.”
Her footsteps slowed.
I straightened fully. “I listened carefully to her heartbeat. It didn’t waver. Not once.”
Vivian’s lips pressed together, then she sighed. “She’s learning,” she said eventually, a bit pleased.
I tilted my head once. “Oh yes,” I murmured. “She is.”
There was a beat of silence. She lingered a few paces from my desk now, fingers ghosting over the back of one of the leather chairs but not sitting.
“And what about Cartier?” she asked at last. “Landon, I understand. But Cartier... he’s different. You think your little invitation will rattle him?”
I leaned back slightly, hands braced on the desk’s edge. “Cartier is prideful,” I said. “Worse, he’s bold. He’s not the kind of man to ask, be rather takes. Because he believes the world owes him something. That kind of arrogance is predictable.”
Vivian didn’t respond immediately.
She was thoughtful now. Not defensive or even mocking.
“But he’s been loyal to the pack,” she offered, “Always. Even if his methods are...”
“Questionable?” I interrupted. “Yes.”
I knew she had a soft spot for him even with how many times they clashed. Oddly attracted to the strange ones I guess.
She hesitated.
I didn’t. “He’s only loyal,” I said coldly, “as long as it benefits him. You know that. I needn’t remind you.”
Her silence was answer enough.
“The thrill of conquest drives him,” I continued. “Cartier wants to own. To dominate. To look back and say, ‘I was here. I shaped this.’ It’s not duty he serves—it’s ego.” And I’d deliberately put him in places far away from the palace even knowing he would crawl back.
Vivian exhaled. “Still, you’re not wrong,” she said. “I know all this. I just... there’s something off about you lately.”
My eyes narrowed. “I’m off?”
“You’re... harder to read than usual,” she admitted. “There’s something else moving beneath the surface. Like excitement.”
“Excitement,” I repeated, testing the word on my tongue, maybe that. “Perhaps.”
Or less troubled. The irony of that couldn't get any funnier.
She tilted her head. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It isn’t.”
“But there is satisfaction,” I said, “at the idea of putting Landon in his place. Of watching the blood drain from his face when he learns the one he thought he’d broken is standing taller than he’s ever seen her.”
Vivian was quiet.
I looked her dead in the eyes.
“You understand that, don’t you?”
A shadow flickered over her face.
“So that’s it?” she said. “You baited her. Nudged her into that speech, the announcement since you already knew she was pregnant.”
I walked to the window, glancing down toward the balcony where Kayla had stood earlier. “Yes,” I said.
And heavens know I was truly, truly grateful it had worked out, that she had opened up.
That she trusted me enough.
“The moment she said it aloud,” I added, “that she was pregnant… that changed the stakes.” In many ways than one.
I turned back to her.
“He’ll want to see it for himself. Verify what he’s read. That she isn’t broken. That she isn’t barren. That she’s mine.”
Vivian’s lips tightened.
“The idea of her thriving,” I went on, “of carrying a child that’s not his, of becoming more than the ruin he left behind… That will destroy him long before I do it.”
Vivian folded her arms. “You’re counting on his ego.”
“I’m counting on his obsession,” I corrected.
Silence fell between us then, heavy and quiet.
“What a gamble,” Vivian murmured.
And to admit, it was, truly. But I’d rather take my chances now than allow them to fester.
“The child’s barely a month along,” she continued. “And already a pawn on the board.” There was no judgment in her voice. Not the kind that usually comes off her.
“How were you sure she’d bite?” she asked.
I didn't. I could only hope. But to Vivian, I said, “A feeling. However, Kayla isn’t a pawn and neither is the child she’s carrying,” I added. “There’s no way I’ll put them in danger.”
She gave me a dry look.
“Your parrots,” I said. “They’ll keep watch during the celebration. Moira will be at Kayla’s side the entire night. You stay at a distance.”
Vivian clicked her tongue. “That easy, huh?”
“If you don’t want to do it,” I started saying,
Her mouth twitched. “Oh, no. I’ll do it. I was just…” She waved a vague hand. “Thinking.”
I already knew what about.
“I understand your hesitation,” I said. “Cartier’s… presence won’t make things easier.”
She scoffed. “Cartier’s presence never makes anything easier.”
“Especially considering your history with him,” I added.
That drew a sharper response. “My history?” she echoed. “Yours too, Lance. Or have we decided to revise that particular chapter where he is your brother?”
“Stepbrother,” I said, correcting her before the thought even finished leaving her tongue.
Vivian laughed. “Oh, we’re still doing the denial thing? After all this time?”
“But he is,” I said again, tone flat. “A technicality, but a relevant one.”
She folded her arms, muttering, “Mhm. Technicality. Like sharing the same bloodline doesn’t count when it’s inconvenient.”
Before I could reply, a knock broke through the tension.
Robert entered, his frown already etched in place. He looked between us like he expected trouble and was too tired to stop it.
“My King,” he said, voice dry, “would you prefer I throw perfectly good food to the rabbits and other scavengers roaming your forest? Or might you consider joining us in the dining hall tonight?”
I stared at him for a long beat.
The old man had guts. Then again, he had the right to. He was more than just my chief. Robert had practically raised me. He was one of the few whose presence I tolerated on the worst of days.
Vivian let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, Robert. Same old, same old.”
She reached out, brushing a hand toward his beard except Robert slapped her hand away before she could make contact.
She recoiled dramatically. “Ow! That actually hurt!”
“It was a swat,” he replied flatly. “And my beard texture is none of your concern.”
I didn’t hide the low sound in my throat—half laugh, half exhale. “We should go,” I said, nodding once toward Robert. “Before he truly unleashes.”
Robert didn’t smile, but the frown faded slightly.
“You’re not joining us?”
Vivian shook her head, already stepping into the corridor. “I’ve had my fill.”
She didn’t say of what. But the look in her eyes said enough.
I didn’t comment on it.
Her recent shift toward Kayla, however subtle, had eased a tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. For the first time in a long time, things weren’t spiraling well.