The Monarch Crown System

15. No Redemption Here

The custodian did not hesitate.

The heated object was pressed directly onto the tattoo carved into Jackson’s chest.

A scream tore out of him.

It was not the cry of a powerful man. It was raw. Animal. Filled with terror and pain. His body convulsed violently as the smell of burning flesh filled the hall. The guards struggled to hold him down as he thrashed, his fingers clawing uselessly at the marble floor.

“No! Stop! Please!” he screamed.

The crowd recoiled.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

“He is screaming.”

“The Crown bearer should not feel pain.”

“This means he is a fake.”

Jackson’s scream rose to a hoarse wail as the object was pressed again.

His skin blistered instantly.

The sigil he had boasted about so proudly warped and blackened, curling inward like dying ash. The illusion shattered completely.

Celeste stood frozen.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Her knees weakened.

“This is not possible,” she whispered. “This is not possible.”

But it was.

The truth burned in front of her eyes.

The custodians did not stop.

They brought more burning coal.

Elias just watched as if everything amused him like an entertainment. He had laid down on a bed that had coal embedded in it during his training. So if they had used that coal on him, it would be like he was been rubbed softly.

They pressed it against his arms. His back. His shoulders. His legs. When he tried to turn his face away, a guard forced his head up and the coal was pressed against his cheek.

The hall echoed with his screams.

Some people turned away.

Some covered their mouths.

Others watched with wide eyes, unable to look away.

“This is what happens,” the head custodian announced loudly, his voice calm and unwavering, “to anyone who dares impersonate the Crown bearer. Let this serve as a lesson.”

Jackson’s screams slowly turned into broken sobs.

His body went limp.

The guards released him and he collapsed onto the floor like discarded trash.

Silence followed.

Then shock struck again.

A woman suddenly clutched her stomach and staggered forward.

“I feel dizzy,” she murmured before collapsing.

Another woman gasped and fainted.

Then another.

Then another.

Panic began to spread.

“What is happening to them?”

“They are fainting.”

A custodian stepped forward and raised his hand.

“The women who associated intimately with the impersonator have been examined.”

The hall froze.

“Each of them,” the custodian continued, “is pregnant.”

The room exploded.

“What?”

“That is impossible.”

“All of them?”

Celeste felt the world tilt.

Her breath caught painfully in her chest.

Pregnant.

Her mind screamed denial, but her body betrayed her. Her hand flew to her stomach. Her vision blurred. The room spun violently.

She had missed her cycle.

She had ignored the signs.

She staggered backward and collapsed into a chair, trembling uncontrollably.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

The custodian continued coldly. “The Crown does not tolerate scandal. The children will be handled accordingly.”

Celeste barely heard the rest.

Her ears rang.

Her heart pounded painfully.

Everything she had built her future on collapsed in a single day.

Then the final announcement came.

“The true Crown bearer has chosen discretion. His identity will not be revealed publicly at this time.”

Murmurs rose again.

“Why not?”

“Who is he?”

“He is among us.”

Celeste lifted her head slowly, her eyes landed on Elias.

He stood quietly, his expression unreadable.

Their eyes met and something inside her shattered.

The realization struck like lightning.

Her breath hitched.

“It is him,” she whispered.

But when she tried to move, he was already gone.

The next day, Elias sat alone in a quiet room in his mansion at the outskirt of Verriton which was the place reserved for him, the Monarch crown bearer, sunlight spilling across the floor.

His phone vibrated and a message appeared.

It was Celeste.

She wanted to see him.

He did not respond.

Another message arrived minutes later.

Then another.

He ignored them all.

That evening, after using a private investigator to find out where Elias was currently, she waited outside the hotel.

She sat in her car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her fingers ached.

Hours passed.

The engine was off.

The windows were up.

The air inside felt suffocating.

“Come out,” she muttered. “Just come out.”

She checked her phone again.

No response.

Her nails dug into her palm.

Her mind replayed every insult she had ever thrown at him. Every look of disgust. Every word of cruelty.

“I did not know,” she whispered. “I swear I did not know.”

Her phone buzzed.

Hope flared.

But it was not him.

Her shoulders slumped.

She slammed her fist against the steering wheel.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she shouted into the empty car.

Night fell but there was nothing.

The next morning, she was still there.

Her eyes were red and lips were dry.

Her patience was gone.

Then she saw the car.

Black.

Sleek.

Expensive.

It pulled out of the hotel gates.

Her heart pounded violently.

“That is him,” she whispered.

Without thinking, she started her engine and drove forward.

She swerved sharply and blocked the car’s path.

The driver slammed the brakes.

Tires screeched and people shouted.

Celeste jumped out of her car and ran forward, standing directly in front of the hood.

“Stop!” she screamed.

The door opened.

Elias stepped out.

His face was calm and cold.

“What are you doing?” he demanded sharply.

“You almost killed yourself.”

“I needed to see you,” Celeste cried. “You would not answer me.”

“You do not deserve an answer,” he replied.

She took a step closer. “Please. Just talk to me.”

“You lost that right,” Elias said.

Her voice trembled. “If you do not speak to me, I will kill myself.”

The world seemed to pause.

Elias stared at her.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes.

Then it vanished.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.

“Don’t use your life as a bargaining chip,” he said coldly. “I don’t care about you anymore, Celeste. You’re my past. ”

Tears streamed down her face. “I was wrong.”

She dropped to her knees in front of him.

“I beg you,” she whispered. “I beg you.”

Elias looked down at her.

His thoughts echoed sharply in his mind.

Now you have been cornered, dear Celeste, and you think coming to me will give you redemption. Oh how sweet. You have just dug your own grave because the Crown bearer does not forgive ever.