Chapter 182: To Claim Her Power
"It is I, Hadrian," Lorraine said, her voice smooth, almost amused, as if unveiling the most obvious truth. A slow, deliberate smile played on her lips.
Leroy stepped closer, his presence unwavering. His hand found its way to her head, resting there in a gesture that was both gentle and possessive, as a silent claim.
"Not my mistress," he declared, his voice low, firm, and laced with undeniable pride. "My wife."
Lorraine didn’t need to look at him to feel the pride radiating from every inch of his being.
Despite everything, despite the precariousness of their position, how she could very well be the small hole in the ship that sank them all, he remained proud. Her husband, the man who had seen her at her worst and best, held his pride in the fact that she was his.
Hadrian stared. Stared as if trying to make sense of the absurdity that confronted him. "It can’t be..." he mumbled, his voice fragile, almost a whisper, after a while.
His back sagged, the last remnants of his strength giving way. His entire weight hung from the chains binding his wrists, while he knelt, breath shallow and ragged.
"Well," Lorraine continued, her tone unwavering, razor-sharp, "I am Lazira. I am Swan Divina. You fought against me, Hadrian, with the full power of the Emperor at your side... and you’ve lost plenty."
Her words landed cold and heavy, striking at the very core of his denial.
"Your deaf and mute daughter is the one who now rules the wicked underbelly of Vaeloria’s capital city. I am the one puppeteering the ministers... and in turn, the Emperor himself."
Hadrian’s eyes remained locked on her lips, as though focusing there would make the truth disappear, as if he wanted to make sure the voice he was hearing was that of the woman in front of him who looked so similar to his mongrel daughter.
Lorraine smirked, sensing the struggle within him... how unbearably difficult it was for him to accept the truth, even as it stared him down, so plainly, so relentlessly. That was how utterly low he had always thought of her.
"All those times you locked me in that room," she continued, her voice like ice against flesh,
"Whipped me with that belt of yours... You could have gotten away with it all. You should’ve left me alone, Hadrian. You should’ve left my husband alone.
After learning what you did to my mother... And what you tried to do to my husband..."Her words slowed, deliberate and merciless.
"Oh, Hadrian... I want you to admire me for the plans I have for you. I know you have that cruel sense of justice, don’t you? Shouldn’t you see what you’ve created by breaking me in that room?"
Leroy’s hand shifted from possessive to comforting, now gently massaging her shoulder, a subtle touch that was meant to ground her, to steady her in this moment of calculated revelation.
She remained calm and collected. Her voice never wavered, her expression never betrayed emotion.
It was surprising. But it shouldn’t have been, considering who she had become.
The woman standing before him was... Ruthless in her ways, brilliant in her thoughts, and...irrevocably in control.
Hadrian’s eyes remained locked on Lorraine, but his gaze seemed distant, lost in some terrible calculation. Then, unexpectedly, a wheeze escaped his lips; a faint, strangled sound that made Lorraine instinctively think he was choking, perhaps dying right there.
But the wheeze didn’t end. It grew.
A low, ragged chortle, as if each laugh tore at his chest, his very soul aching from the effort. It was the laugh of a dead man’s last hurrah.
"All this while... I never considered you as one of us..." Hadrian rasped between coughs, blood seeping from his mouth, staining his chin crimson. The marks of bruises and blows from relentless days of punishment weighed him down. Yet he forced himself to speak.
"You truly are an Arvand!"
Pride.
Lorraine saw it clearly, etched in the tremble of his voice, in the stubborn gleam in his eyes.
"No king has ever ruled without our shadow at his back! He who wears the crown... wears it beneath our wings!"
His words came out fragmented, interspersed with wheezes and chuckles, but his eyes, those eyes, never left her. They looked at her as if he were... proud.
Proud of what she had become.
"I should have looked into my bloodline when someone could shake even the emperor. Why did I search far when I know the power of my bloodline?" He smiled and laughed. Celebrated even when he was on the brink of death.
That smile. That infuriating, smug smile. She could barely contain the venom rising within her.
"You remember I’m your blood only now?" Her voice was sharp, her smirk cruel.
He hadn’t remembered when he’d torn her flesh. But now, as she revealed the truth, he wore that pride like a badge of honor.
It irked her beyond reason.
Because she had not carved this path to prove her worth to her father. Nor had her purpose ever been to earn his recognition or even to bring him down.
Her strength, her ruthlessness, her ascent, every careful step she took, had been for her husband.
To shield him. To love him. Only him.
Not for this... hollow, grotesque pride.
Hadrian seemed impervious to her words. His gaze never flickered to consider her pain or anger. He never had. He was not going to start now.
"Can’t you see how terrific this is?" His voice slithered out, coated in madness. An evil glint sparkled in his eyes, his lips wet with anticipation, as if savoring the very thought of power. "All this power... The eagle can break the chain! We can rule together!"
He reached forward, his claws of ambition stretched toward her, and eyes gleaming with unspeakable greed. His lips glistened as he salivated to get close to the power he knew she held.
Lorraine’s patience snapped. Her voice rose, sharp as steel, echoing through the dungeon like a judge’s gavel. Her feet stamped the ground, once, punctuating her fury.
"Didn’t you hear me? You killed my mother and failed to kill me!"
Leroy’s hand pressed against her back, steady, grounding, his own anger rising in tandem. He could feel the hurt in her. He stepped up.
His voice was low but fierce, a challenge sharp as a blade. "Don’t you feel even a little guilt for taking her mother from her?" He tightened his hold, his breath heavy with indignation. "And then treating her worse than a dog? How dare you think you can share what she built? Do you want to share it... or claim it for yourself?"
Hadrian didn’t see her as a daughter. Nor as a person. To him, Lorraine was nothing but a tool. A vessel of power he could wield to claw his way back into prominence.
But Lorraine and Leroy stood together, unwavering, two souls bound by love and defiance,
and prepared to burn the last of Hadrian’s illusions to ash.