CH.106

The silence that followed Sahar's shocking words was defining. It seemed to stretch on for an eternity, sucking all the air from the cavernous hall like a vacuum.

A rising tide of confused murmurs and gasps rippled through the crowd as the prolonged, awkward silence dragged on interminably.

People shifted restlessly, exchanging bewildered glances and hushed whispers as they struggled to process this earth-shattering revelation.

Some brutally dug their nails into -their skin, as if seeking reassurance that they weren't hallucinating this surreal moment.

Even the normally unflappable King Frederick appeared completely blindsided with his eyes widening to saucers as the implications of his wife's words slowly sank in.

Son? What in the name of all that was holy did Sahar mean when she claimed Knox was not truly her son? And more mind-boggling still - the man they all knew as the Imperial, their mysterious and immensely powerful council leader, was his own flesh and blood?

Frederick's mind spun like a whirlwind as he desperately tried to make sense of Sahar's words.

He remembered every vivid detail of Knox's birth with crystal clarity… The endless hours of exhausting labor, Sahar's pained screams echoing through the castle, the indescribable joy of holding his newborn son in his arms as the boy took his first squalling breaths of life.

There was not a shadow of doubt in Frederick's mind that the child was his biological offspring.

Which meant Knox had to be Sahar's son as well, didn't it? She had carried him and given birth to him in a gruelling ordeal.

Frederick could still picture it as if it were yesterday. He had been right there by her side the entire time, holding her hand through those agonizing hours.

So how in the world could she stand there now, bold-faced that Knox wasn't truly her offspring?

The mere notion was so utterly preposterous it made Frederick's head spin.

And even more baffling - how could Knox actually be the Imperial whose very name invoked awe and respect from all who heard it? His own enemy and rival?

Frederick had always assumed the Imperial was some ancient entity since he was able to take out the previous Imperial that was under his wings after the uprising centuries ago. Not his own son whom they had made certain couldn’t rise to fulfil the prophecy.

Sahar and Isolde had made sure to deal with the matter of his fated mate. So how was he so powerful without his mate? Or did they miss something?

The other princes seemed just as thrown by this seeming impossibility. Their jaws hung open comically, eyes wide and brimming with shock and resentment as they processed the idea that their own brother, the one they'd always looked upon as a failure and a black sheep of the family, was in fact the Imperial.

The same Knox they had mocked and dismissed as a pathetic loser all these years was now supposedly the most powerful being they were meant to revere and obey without question?

The thought didn't seem to compute for them, like trying to jam a square peg into a round hole.

Their own sibling, who they had always assumed was simply a weakling unworthy of respect or attention, had actually been the elite Imperial hiding in plain sight this entire time? Putting on an elaborate act of being feeble and unremarkable to fool them all?

A sickening realization began to dawn on them. This was a devastating blow to their own carefully cultivated superiority complexes and inflated egos.

How had Knox managed to pull off such an elaborate deception for so long without arousing suspicion?

How had he been able to conceal his true, immense powers and identity as the Imperial from his own family, even when they were children growing up together in the palace? Had it all been a cunning facade, a carefully orchestrated act of appearing pathetic and unassuming while he silently operated behind the scenes?

Sahar lifted one long finger in a silent command for quiet. Her blood-red lips pursed in a satisfied smirk. "This imposter’s deceitful identity is not the only deception I aim to unmask here today," she announced, her cold eyes drifting over to the second masked figure seated beside Knox - the one known to all as the Regal.

"Do any of you truly know who this person is behind that mask?" A harsh, mocking laugh escaped her ruby red lips. "Do you know how you all have been blindly worshipping and bowing to our greatest enemy this entire time while he masquerades as one of the precious council leaders?"

She tsked slowly, shaking her head as her eyes glinted with cruel amusement. "Tell me, does anyone here actually recall seeing the exiled Prince Enzo's dead body all those years ago after his alleged death in the wilderness?"

A disquieted hush fell over the crowd once more as people exchanged uneasy glances and shuffled their feet nervously.

Shock and dawning realization were evident on every face as they instinctively took defensive stances.

Some muttered words of furious disbelief under their breaths while others were simply stunned into tense, loaded silence by the enormity of what the Queen seemed to be insinuating.

Sahar's wicked smile stretched wider, like a cat who had just cornered a particularly juicy mouse. She slowly pointed directly at Enzo. "This man you've all revered as your precious Regal leader...is none other than the traitorous, exiled Prince Enzo Cavalieri Delgaard himself."

A collective gasp of shock and disbelief rippled through the crowd like a tidal wave at her blunt confirmation.

People immediately surged to their feet, fists clenched and bodies tensed as they took aggressive stances, preparing to attack the still seated and seemingly unbothered Enzo where he sat.

The air crackled with palpable tension and the promise of imminent violence.

Meredith sprang up from her seat. "Who dares?!" she bellowed, ripping off her own mask in one sharp motion.

Another collective wave of shock washed over the crowd as people stumbled back, gaping at her in utter disbelief.

It couldn't be...and yet those striking blue eyes, that unmistakable face were instantly recognizable to anyone who had lived through the uprising.

Meredith Stonewall, daughter of the late Duke Stonewall - a woman they had all believed to be dead was standing there in the flesh, glaring them down defiantly.

How was this possible? How was the supposedly deceased Meredith still alive after all these centuries? And more importantly, how had she, Knox, and the exiled Prince Enzo managed to secretly infiltrate and take over their ruling council right under everyone's noses without a single person being any the wiser?

"Enough of this absurd theater, you traitorous vixen! You've had your fun while it lasted. It’s time to end your vicious games.” Meredith hissed.

Sahar's mocking laugh was like nails on a chalkboard, making several people wince. "Oho, is that so, dear?" She spat the last word like a curse as she rose as well. "I don't recall asking for your permission to speak the truth. This game, as you call it, has only just begun. The real fun is yet to come."

Enzo chuckled dryly from his seat, leaning back with one ankle resting casually on his knee. His relaxed posture was a stark contrast to the tension thrumming through the rest of the room.

"Well, this party's certainly been a rager so far. Can't wait to see what other surprises you've got in store for us, Your Majesty." Enzo’s tone dripped sarcasm as he met Sahar’s venomous glare head-on, utterly unruffled by her theatrics.

"Be careful what you wish for," Sahar hissed, her eyes flashing with barely restrained rage. "I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of the depraved depths your betrayals have sunk to. Mark my words, by the time this night is through, you and your wretched ilk will be exposed for what you truly are - a blight to be purged from our world once and for all."

With that, she whirled and stormed back to her seat, every sharp movement radiating fury and disdain.

King Frederick remained in his own seat, dazed as if the very foundation of his world had been shaken to its core. He looked like a man who had aged a decade in the span of mere minutes.

Meredith's eyes darted around the room, assessing potential threats and escape routes should things go sideways.

Knox, who had been sitting quietly with his eyes closed finally gave a reaction.

He slowly rose to his feet. His movements were calm and unhurried despite the chaos erupting around them.

He cut an intimidating figure in his crisp black suit, towering over most in the room. His face remained impassive behind the black mask obscuring his features as his eyes calmly scanned the erupting pandemonium until they settled on Sahar.

There was no mistaking the raw power emanating from him in waves.

A single step from him had the crowd instinctively shrinking back despite themselves.