Serpent Emperor's Bride-Chapter 138: The End of Her

[Imperial Palace — Guest Chamber — Continuation]

Silence did not fall; it pressed. Heavy, breathing and watching. Aelira’s voice lingered in the air—fragile, trembling, desperate.

"...Brother-in-law... he... he is trying to kill me, brother."

No one moved, not Varesh, not Sharukh, not even the air itself dared to shift, because the moment those words left her mouth—something changed.

Levin stood still, not shocked, not confused. Just... still. His gaze rested on her—not as a brother, not as someone who had once shielded her from truth—but as someone who was finally seeing.

Truly seeing.

"...Trying to kill you?" His voice came soft and it did not carry warmth.

Aelira nodded quickly, crawling slightly forward despite her trembling limbs, "Yes... yes—he—he suddenly attacked me—I don’t know why—"

Her voice cracked perfectly, placed, desperately fragile, but Levin’s eyes did not move, not even once.

"Aelira..." He spoke her name quietly, and yet there was something beneath it. Something sharp enough to cut.

She looked up at him instantly, relief flickering too quickly in her eyes. "Brother—you need to believe me, I—"

"You are not a child anymore." The words fell flat and final.

She froze, her lips parted—but no sound came out, because the way he was looking at her It was not her brother, not anymore.

"...Brother..." her voice trembled, smaller now, uncertain. "...Are you letting me die? ...Are you not saving me?"

Tears slipped down her cheeks, real or practiced. It no longer mattered, because Levin did not move. He did not step forward; he did not reach for her; he only looked at her.

Cold, still, and distant in a way he had never been before. Then slowly his gaze shifted past her, toward the doorway.

Where they stood.

Duke Aren. The Emperor and Princess Seraphina, not intervening, not speaking because the situation—this was no longer a matter for the court.

This was a family judgment.

Levin’s voice came again, quieter but heavier.

"...Father." Aren’s gaze met his, steady and knowing. "It is time."

A pause. Levin’s jaw tightened—just slightly.

"...Her actions are no longer... something that can be contained."

Silence stretched. Aelira’s breath stilled, her body trembled—not from fear of death anymore but from something worse.

"...No..." Her head turned slowly toward the door, toward her father.

"...No..."

Duke Aren stepped forward once; his expression was not frustrated, not cruel. It was worse, and it was decided.

"She will be sent away to Nereth Vaal."

The name fell like a sentence.

"A settlement beyond the eastern sea," he continued, his voice carrying no comfort. "Far from the capital. Far from court. Far from influence."

A pause.

"...Far from harm."

Aelira stared at him as if she had not understood. It was as though her mind refused to comprehend.

"...No..." Her head shook slowly at first and then faster. "No... no—you cannot—I cannot live in a place like that!"

Her hands slammed against the floor as she tried to push herself up, desperation overtaking whatever dignity she had left.

"Father—please—I didn’t do anything wrong—I was just—"

"Enough."

The word did not rise. It dropped heavy.

Aren’s gaze hardened—just enough. "You have done enough, Aelira; it’s time now you realize your mistake."

Aelira’s breath shattered.

"...You’re sending me away...?" Her voice had become barely audible. "...for him?"

Aren did not answer immediately because the truth did not require defense.

"Yes."

One word and it ended everything. Aelira’s gaze snapped back to Levin. Something wild, something broken, and something hateful flashed across her face.

"...So this is it?" Her voice trembled—not with weakness now but with something darker. "You chose him...over me, brother. Did you already forget the promise you made to Mother?"

Silence.

Levin did not react immediately, but something in his eyes shifted. Something that had finally... hardened.

"...That promise...is the only reason you are still alive." The words landed heavy and unforgiving.

Aelira stilled. Levin stepped forward, not close enough to touch but close enough to end the distance.

"That promise," he continued, his voice lower now, sharper, "...is what stopped me. Again and again."

A pause; his gaze did not leave her.

"...But it does not protect you anymore." Her breath hitched. "Not every sin can be buried beneath Mother’s last words."

Silence deepened. Levin’s jaw tightened—just slightly.

"I would have given you everything. The estate...the title...even the inheritance meant for me."

Aelira’s eyes flickered for a moment—hope and desperation, then—Levin’s voice cut through it.

"...But not him, not my mate."

The finality in those words left no room for argument, no space for illusion.

"This time," Levin said quietly, "...no one will stand between you and the consequence you have earned."

The room grew colder not from power but from truth.

Behind them Princess Seraphina moved, swift and controlled. She reached Sharukh first, steadying him as he struggled to stand.

"You both should not remain here," she said softly, though her tone carried command. "Come. The imperial physician will tend to you."

Sharukh nodded faintly, still weakened. Varesh stepped in beside them immediately, struggling alone.

Then turned slightly.

"...Father."

The Emperor gave a small nod, no words, and just like that they left. The door closed, and with it the last witnesses left only judgment behind.

Aelira stood alone.

Truly alone. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"You’re not even the duke—" her voice snapped suddenly, sharp, desperate, grasping for something—anything. "How can you decide something like this—?!"

Levin did not raise his voice; he did not need to.

"I am the heir."

The words were calm, but they carried weight and authority.

"And even if I were not..." His gaze flicked briefly toward their father. "...he would have made the same decision."

Aelira turned slowly, almost unwillingly.

"...Father...?"

Duke Aren stood still, unmoving and unyielding. For a moment he said nothing.

Then—

"Until your departure is arranged..." His voice was steady and cold. "...you will remain isolated."

Aelira stared at him.

"...No attendants... No contact... No freedom beyond what is permitted." Each word sealed her fate further and finished quietly, "...You will reflect...on what you have become."

Silence.

Aelira’s body gave out.

She sank because now there was nothing left to hold onto. No brother, no protection, no illusion, no escape, and worst of all—no one was coming to save her.

Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out, because for the first time she understood, this was not anger.

This was the end of her.

Later the chamber did not return to normal.

It simply... settled, like a storm that had passed but left its weight behind. The doors opened once more, not with authority, not with presence.

Just servants.

Two maids entered quietly, their heads lowered, their movements careful—as if even stepping too loudly might awaken what still lingered in the air.

They did not speak; they did not look up; they only went to her. Aelira did not resist, not anymore. Her body moved when they pulled her, unsteady and unwilling but silent.

And then—she was gone.

The door closed soft and final. Duke Aren remained for a moment longer. His gaze moved from the empty space... to Levin... and then, briefly, to Zeramet. Still coiled, still immense, and still watching.

"...I will leave you alone." His voice was quieter now.

Levin nodded once; he did not speak. Aren lingered for a breath longer. As if he wished to say something more, but he didn’t. Then he turned and left.

Levin stood there for a moment, then slowly he turned. Zeramet remained in his full serpent form, massive and silver. His coils still occupied most of the chamber, though no longer threatening, no longer violent.

His golden eyes lowered, meeting Levin’s.

"...Are you well... consort?"

His voice was quieter now, not the king, not the tyrant. Just him. Levin did not answer immediately; he stepped forward instead.

Slowly.

Until he stood close enough to touch. His hands lifted gently. Resting against the cool, smooth scales along Zeramet’s face.

He rubbed softly, thumb tracing along the curve of his cheek.

"I am well..." His voice was quiet but tired. "...Are you calm now?"

Zeramet did not answer with words; instead, his massive body shifted slowly, careful, and controlled. His tail moved first.

Sliding, curling. Until it wrapped around Levin, not tight, not possessive, just protective. Then he lowered himself. Resting his head against Levin’s shoulder. A creature large enough to crush kingdoms—now leaning into something fragile.

"...Your presence..." Zeramet murmured, his voice low, softened by something rare, "...is enough to steady me."

Levin exhaled slowly. His body gave in just slightly—leaning back against the weight, accepting it. His hand moved again, stroking along the silver scales.

Gentler this time and slower.

"...You nearly killed her." A quiet statement.

Zeramet’s eyes flickered. "...She nearly destroyed everything I have."

Levin’s fingers stilled for a moment, then resumed.

"It’s over now, and...I apologize; I did not raise her well."

"You do not have to blame yourself, consort; you did your best....The path of envy...it was chosen by her."

But even as he said it, it didn’t feel finished. Zeramet shifted slightly, his coils adjusting. Levin did not argue because he knew. The room dimmed further as the night deepened. Moonlight slipped through the shattered window, spilling silver across silver, across skin.

Levin leaned back slightly, letting himself rest. Just for a moment. Zeramet did not move. Did not loosen his hold.

They remained like that, not speaking, not thinking. Just... staying because after everything—after truth, and betrayal, and fury—this was the only place left

Where neither of them had to hold anything back.