Serpent Emperor's Bride-Chapter 94: The Heirs and the Serpents

[Silthara Palace —Emperor’s Chamber—Dawn]

Morning unfolded over Silthara Palace like a quiet blessing.

Golden light poured through the tall lattice windows of the Emperor’s chamber, stretching long ribbons of warmth across the marble floor. Outside, the palace gardens had awakened fully—the fountains murmured softly, and birds perched along the carved pillars sang bright morning songs that echoed gently through the open arches.

Within the chamber, the air felt lighter than usual.

Levin sat upon the wide imperial bed, the silken sheets gathered loosely around him. His posture remained calm, but there was something different about him today.

Something subtle.

Something new.

Near his side, Asha circled the bed restlessly, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air around him again and again. Beside her, Lyresaph tilted his small head, blinking curiously while studying Levin with unusual attention.

The two creatures could sense it: something had changed.

Levin rested one hand unconsciously against his stomach; he still felt nothing, no movement, no warmth, and yet—the knowledge from the previous night lingered in his mind like a quiet echo.

Two of them.

Behind him stood Iru, his usually composed expression softened with unmistakable brightness. Even the attendants gathered quietly along the chamber walls could not fully hide their excitement.

At Levin’s side stood Zeramet.

The Serpent Emperor watched everything carefully, his presence calm yet unmistakably protective. One hand rested lightly against Levin’s shoulder, as though the simple touch reassured him that this moment was real.

Before them knelt the imperial physician.

Physician Naram, the oldest healer in the royal court of Zahryssar.

His beard brushed against the collar of his embroidered robes as he leaned forward, adjusting the delicate crystal-lens instrument resting above Levin’s stomach.

The device was ancient—an artifact of both medicine and magic. A narrow lens of polished crystal rested within a bronze frame etched with serpentine runes, allowing the physician to observe the faint traces of life energy within the body.

For several long moments, the chamber remained completely silent; only the birds outside continued their soft morning chorus.

Then Naram leaned back slowly, a smile spread across his aged face.

"Well," he said gently, his voice carrying calm certainty. "There is no doubt."

The attendants behind him inhaled sharply. Naram lowered the instrument carefully before bowing his head respectfully.

"The Malika of Zahryssar is indeed with child."

A soft wave of gasps filled the chamber. Iru’s eyes brightened instantly. One of the attendants clasped her hands together in quiet excitement.

Even Asha gave a small curious chirp as though sensing the joy spreading through the room.

Zeramet did not speak, but the pride in his golden eyes was unmistakable; his hand tightened slightly around Levin’s shoulder.

Levin blinked slowly, still dazed, still processing the words that had now been spoken aloud.

’So... it is true.’

His fingers moved again over his stomach, gentle and careful. Inside him, life had begun.

’I am indeed carrying a child.’

The thought felt strange and heavy in his mind, like a truth that had arrived too suddenly to be fully understood.

Before him, the imperial physician Naram lowered his head in a deep bow, the folds of his embroidered robes brushing softly against the marble floor.

"Congratulations, Malik... and Malika," he said with quiet dignity. "After many years, it seems the heavens have finally turned their favor toward Zahryssar."

Zeramet inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, though the pride in his golden eyes remained impossible to hide.

Naram straightened again, his expression thoughtful, "There is... one matter I must speak of."

Zeramet’s gaze sharpened slightly, "Speak."

The physician folded his hands calmly, "Because the Malika is an Alpha... the womb he possesses is not formed in the natural way of an omega."

Levin blinked faintly.

Naram continued, "It forms from the threshold, a rare biological adaptation found only among certain bloodlines of powerful Prime Alphas."

His eyes softened slightly as he explained further.

"For this reason, Malika must remain within the presence of the Malik’s pheromones as often as possible."

Levin tilted his head slightly, "Why?"

The physician smiled faintly.

"The eggs growing inside you will strengthen and develop more smoothly when surrounded by the scent of their sire." He gestured lightly toward Zeramet. "The Malik’s pheromones will stabilize their growth."

Levin blinked once, then twice, "So... I must remain near him?"

Zeramet’s lips curved faintly in quiet amusement.

Naram nodded, "As long as the Malika avoids excessive strain, everything should progress naturally. You may walk, read, work, and perform your duties as usual."

But his tone grew slightly firmer.

"However, Malika must not exhaust himself." His gaze moved between them both. "Because the Malika is not an omega, the body may struggle to adjust to carrying life."

Iru, standing nearby, nodded with immediate seriousness. The expression on his face resembled that of a soldier who had just received the most important order of his life.

Naram continued, "From food... to sleep... to daily activity... everything must be carefully balanced."

Zeramet nodded slowly, "I understand. From this moment forward, Malika’s well-being is the highest priority of this palace."

He turned slightly toward the physician.

"You will remain within Silthara Palace."

Naram blinked in surprise. Zeramet continued calmly, "You will reside here until the birth of the heirs."

His golden gaze held no room for refusal.

"So that whenever my consort requires you... you will already be present."

Naram bowed deeply once more, "It would be my greatest honor, Malik."

Iru stepped forward immediately, "Come, physician. I will show you the chamber prepared for you."

Naram followed him respectfully. One by one, the attendants withdrew from the chamber. Soon the doors closed softly behind them.

Silence returned.

The warm morning light still filled the room.

Zeramet sat beside Levin upon the bed; for a moment, he simply watched him.

Then he asked quietly:

"Consort..." His hand moved gently over Levin’s fingers. "You must be careful now."

Levin nodded faintly, but then a small frown touched his face, "...I am truly carrying a child?"

Zeramet stared at him for a long second, then a soft breath escaped him. He took both of Levin’s hands in his own.

"No, consort, you are carrying a blessing." His voice lowered gently. "For me, for Zahryssar, for the house of Veyrhold."

His thumb brushed slowly across Levin’s knuckles.

"So yes." His golden eyes softened warmly. "You are with child, and I will tell you that truth again...and again...and again... No matter how many times you ask."

Levin blinked.

Zeramet’s voice grew softer.

"You carry our children, children who will bless this empire, children who will carry the future of Zahryssar." His hand moved slowly over Levin’s stomach again. "...and children who will bring joy to a life that has been far too beautiful till now."

Levin stared at him, and then slowly a faint smile appeared on his lips.

"You are right..." His fingers rested gently over his stomach again. "...they will bring joy."

Zeramet pulled him into a warm embrace. Levin leaned against his chest quietly; for a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Levin murmured softly, "I must send a letter to Father."

Zeramet chuckled lightly.

"Of course." His arms tightened around Levin protectively. "But I will send one as well. This news is far too joyful to deliver through only one messenger."

Outside the chamber, the morning sun continued rising over the towers of Silthara Palace, and within the Emperor’s chamber, two tiny heartbeats quietly promised a future the empire had waited generations to see.

The child of the silver serpent and the human alpha.

***

[House Karzath — The Same Day — Late Afternoon]

Across the empire of Zahryssar, the news spread like wildfire carried by desert winds.

The Malika was with child, not merely a child—but two heirs.

In markets, in temples, in the shaded courtyards of noble houses, the people spoke of it with joy and reverence. Priests burned incense in thanks to the heavens, servants whispered prayers for the unborn heirs, and nobles began quietly calculating how the future of the empire had just shifted.

But within the dark halls of House Karzath—Joy did not reach.

Inside a private chamber—SLASH!!!

A porcelain vase exploded against the wall, shards scattering across the marble floor like broken bone.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO—!"

Rakhane’s roar tore through the chamber like a wounded beast. His chest rose and fell violently as he stood in the center of the room, his fists clenched so tightly that the veins along his arms stood out like coiled serpents.

His single visible eye burned with a fury that bordered on madness.

"It is not possible..." The words spilled from him like poison. "That Alpha...belongs to me."

His hand swept violently across a nearby table, sending bronze cups crashing to the floor.

"Mine." The word echoed through the chamber as his voice trembled with twisted rage, "How...how can he be carrying another man’s child?"

He grabbed the edge of the window frame and—CRASH!!! Glass shattered outward into the courtyard below. The desert wind rushed violently into the chamber, carrying dust and heat with it.

"He cannot bear that child!" Rakhane snarled. "He should not bear that child!"

His breath came in ragged bursts as his mind spiraled deeper into obsession.

"I must stop it..." His voice dropped into a dark whisper. "I must destroy it."

A twisted smile slowly crept across his lips.

"Yes..." His gaze turned distant, filled with a revolting fantasy that existed only in his corrupted mind. "Levin was always meant to carry my child. Only mine."

His fingers curled slowly as though gripping something invisible.

"Yes..." The words slipped from him like a vow. "He will carry my blood... not that silver serpent’s."

Then—

KNOCK.

KNOCK.

The chamber door creaked open slowly, a man stepped inside. Serath-Min, Rakhane’s quiet assistant. He paused just inside the doorway, glancing at the shattered room.

Broken glass.

Scattered porcelain.

Furniture overturned by rage.

He exhaled slowly, "I see you have already heard the news."

Rakhane turned toward him sharply, irritation flashing across his face. "I am not in the mood for conversation. Leave."

But Serath-Min did not move. Instead his body shifted, for the briefest moment, the air in the room rippled. Then his form melted like shadow beneath moonlight.

The calm servant vanished, and in his place—Stood Azhrakaal.

The Black Serpent King.

His long dark hair spilled across his shoulders like ink poured over marble, and his eyes gleamed with a cruel intelligence that had haunted empires long before Zahryssar rose from the desert sands.

Rakhane’s eye widened.

"You—!" His voice hardened instantly. "Did you kill Serath-Min?"

Azhrakaal shrugged casually and dropped onto the couch as though entering his own chamber. "I had little choice."

His tone was almost bored.

"A man of his position offered... a convenient doorway into this empire." His lips curved faintly. "So I removed him."

Rakhane turned away in irritation.

"I told you I am not interested in speaking right now." His voice remained dark with anger.

Azhrakaal leaned back comfortably.

"Oh?" His eyes glittered. "That is unfortunate, because I came to discuss the most interesting piece of news spreading across Zahryssar."

Rakhane’s jaw tightened.

Azhrakaal smiled thinly, "The Malika carries the Golden Blood. Two heirs."

His gaze sharpened.

"The very bloodline that might end the black serpents"

Silence filled the chamber. Rakhane slowly turned his head, his voice came cold. "You think I care about that?"

His eye burned with obsession, "That silver serpent has stolen something that belongs to me."

Rakhane’s voice lowered dangerously.

"Levin." The name left his lips like a sacred curse. "That consort was meant for me."

Azhrakaal chuckled quietly, "Your reasons are... emotional." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

He leaned forward slightly.

"Yours are not." His voice grew colder. "But in the end, we desire the same outcome."

Rakhane narrowed his eye. Azhrakaal’s smile widened slowly.

"The child that Malika is carrying must die."

His fingers tapped lazily against the armrest, "Just as it happened before."

Rakhane frowned slightly. Azhrakaal’s eyes gleamed with ancient cruelty

"Just like Malika Ninsara carried many children, but every one of them died."

The wind howled faintly through the broken window. Azhrakaal’s voice dropped into a whisper filled with venom.

"And now..." He leaned forward slightly. "...the same fate will greet Malika Levin. No matter how many children he carries...they will either die within his body...or beneath the earth."

The room fell silent.

Outside, the desert wind moved across the walls of House Karzath like a warning whispered by the ancient sands.

And within the shattered chamber—Two serpents began weaving a plan dark enough to threaten the future of Zahryssar itself.