The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 162: Letter To The North

Esme and Donovan made it to one of the grandest, cavernous halls in town, their breaths curling in the chill air. One of the younger villagers had directed them here when they asked about a place they could actually sit and dine, and they were led here – beneath the vaulted ceiling of the resplendent hall.

Towering stones lined up the massive hall, their rough surfaces lit by the warm, flickering glow of the lanterns and torches positioned throughout the hall. Long wooden tables stretched across the stone floor, and the space, with its grandeur and earthy warmth, gave the impression of a banquet that was prepared for kings and warriors.

A few townsfolk were gathered around tables, their low conversations and gentle laughter interwoven with the crackling of fires. Snow rested on the roof while icicles glistened like glass teeth along the eaves. The people were dressed in thick, layered clothing made from leather, fur and wool, and the environment carried a quiet charm that appealed to both Esme and Donovan.

They chose an empty table near one of the hearths, its heat seeping into their chilled bones as they removed their coat and laid them neatly at their side. Esme set her books up on the table, placing the one she would read first at the top.

Moments later, a servant woman brought their meal. She set it down on the table before quietly bowing her head at Esme and Donovan, then taking her leave. Her eyes didn’t carry the usual hesitation that everyone else had, and it was starting to make Esme wonder if there are other people out there who genuinely don’t view Donovan and his people based on the rumors that have been told.

Her eyes shifted to the golden, honey-glazed bread, a generous, helping bowl of hearty stew with chunks of tender venison and root vegetables, along with some fried fruits and aged cheese.

Donovan’s plate steamed before him, but his expression looked unfocused. He simply toyed with his fork, absently prodding at the stew and the thick slices of potatoes on his plate. Esme’s gaze softened as she watched him, his expression unreadable.

While she reached for a piece of the honeyed bread, breaking off a warm morsel, Donovan lifted his fork as though he wanted to take a bite, only to set it down again, the taste of his own thoughts seemingly more potent than the food before him.

"Donovan?" Esme’s voice was gentle as she called out, "Your meal is getting cold. You should eat before it loses its warmth. Is something troubling you?"

Donovan’s expression shifted, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips. The sudden somberness caught her off-guard, because only moments ago, they had shared laughter and raced down the snowy terrain, which she lost to.

He had been calm, composed, and very much himself.

"Donovan?" She repeated, a hint of worry laced in her voice.

His dark brows knitted as he finally spoke. "Must you really go to the palace to attend to their needs? I don’t want you near that environment and I have my reasons. Look, I’ve been dealing with Lennox and I know he won’t easily agree to this Royal Boon. If anything he could change the course the minute you bring it up, then what?"

"He cannot change the Royal Boon," Esme replied, her voice soft, but her words remained clear and deliberate. "Revoking or altering it would take no less than a year, Donovan. Illyria’s laws are deeply entrenched, resistant to quick manipulation."

Donovan’s jaw tightened, and he raised a hand to rub his temples. "Esme, this isn’t the first time we’ve sought a peace accord. The last time–" his voice caught, a shadow flickering across his face. "I lost everything that night. How can I convince myself that history won’t repeat itself when you step into that palace?"

Donovan didn’t know exactly how to put it, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was still afraid of that night. Because of what they did to him, somehow, his guts were telling him he probably did something he shouldn’t have.

Cause why else would the true bearer have access to his mind and memories? Before considering holding him down with a chain around his neck? A part of him can’t forgive the people of Illyria for what they did, while another part, a deeper part of him knew that he still longed for this peace.

They kept their voices low, and due to the spot they were sitting, which was at the farthest end of the hall, no one could listen in on their conversation. Esme understood the depths of Donovan’s concerns, and it was not unfounded. His mother had once stepped into the palace, lured by the false promises of peace offered by Lennox’s father. That fragile hope had shattered, leaving only broken lives, seething hatred, unresolved differences and the scars of war.

Esme pushed the dark memories back, unwilling to relive those painful echoes. She longed to soothe Donovan’s anguish, to erase that past from his heart, but such a gift was beyond her reach. His caution was more than justified, and she could not fault him for bracing against the uncertainty that lay ahead.

They were not dealing with the scheming mind of Lennox’s father, but facing Lennox himself. Esme wanted to believe that just like Donovan, Lennox also had the wish to protect his people, which should be more of his priority than the beef he’s having with Donovan.

The thought of standing before not only the councils but the influential leaders of the regional packs sent a chill through her. The stakes were immense, and opposition inevitable. No matter the disagreement, she would certainly not back down, not after making it this far.

"I know it won’t be easy," Esme started softly, "But you believe in me, don’t you? You’re not just everyone else’s pillar of strength — you’re mine too. If you hesitate now, how am I supposed to find my footing? You should be the one to steady me with a reassuring pat on my shoulder. I’ll guide your hand there if I must, but don’t let doubt take root. I’ll make things right, I promise."

Her eyes flicked around the room, a subtle smile curling her lips. "I wish you could see it for yourself. The Northerners are gradually softening towards us; their wariness is melting bit by bit. I can still recall how tense they were when the demon wolves threatened to raid the land. Isn’t it such a strange turn of events? We came here to steal the serum but now we’re leading the entire North. They were so afraid, but now things are slowly changing."

"Or maybe they’re still afraid," Donovan remarked. "Nobody wants to get injected with the serum. Asides that, you’re their Luna, a Luna who supports the cursed. They don’t have much of a choice but to accept our presence."

"And in time, they’ll come to understand why," Esme added, her tone brightening with conviction. "Try to look at it with hope, and don’t let it shadow the good mood we had before stepping in here. The food is wonderful. Next time, we should bring everyone. It’d be like a family outing, a day to just be together."

With a playful glimmer in her eyes, Esme leaned forward, gently tapping his nose when he didn’t respond. "Come on now. Whenever you get that faraway look, it reminds of Leonardo, except that’s just his face. You only look like this when you’re too worried. Trust me, everything will be fine."

A soft smile curved at the edges of his lips, and he reached for her hand, entering their fingers as if grounding himself in her presence. With a tender motion, he brought her hand to his lips, dropping a light kiss on her palm.

"If you say so, then I believe it," he murmured, his voice carrying an intimate promise. "Let’s end this quickly so we can finally get married and have as many pups as you desire." The teasing lilt in his voice sent a rush of warmth to Esme’s cheeks.

Her heart quickened, and she pulled her hand back. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

This man!

A flustered smile broke free, despite her attempt to maintain composure.

"Focus on your meal," she muttered, turning her attention firmly on her plate. The fact she hadn’t objected hung unspoken on the air.

-_-_-♡-_-_-

At the palace, Emily quietly approached a guard stationed near the corridor and slipped an envelope into his gloved hand. "Take this," she instructed, her voice low and steady. "Deliver it to the Royal courier and tell him to ensure it reaches the North. The king will be indisposed for the next two days, and the letter must find its way to the new Luna of the North. Tell him he should make certain that it is placed directly into her hands— no one else, do you understand?"

The guard’s eyes flickered with recognition as he accepted the letter, nodding his head in compliance. Without a word, he pivoted and strode down the dimly-lit corridor.

Emily lingered for a moment, crossing her arms as her blue eyes hardened, a glint of cold resolve shimmering in their depth. Satisfied, she turned on her heels and departed.