See You In Hell

An Heir

The doors to the council chamber closed behind Giveon.

The warmth of the castle disappeared almost instantly. This part of the palace was different. The corridors were quieter, the walls darker, and the torches burned with a low blue flame that cast long shadows across the stone floor.

Giveon walked without a word, his mind still on the afternoon meeting ahead of him. When he reached the large wooden doors at the end of the corridor, two guards stepped aside.

He entered.

The council chamber was already occupied.

Seven men sat around a long, black table carved from ancient oak. Some were vampires who had served his father before his death. Others had served Giveon for years.

At the head of the table was an empty chair.

His father's chair.

Giveon never sat in it.

Not yet.

He walked to his usual place and stood rather than sitting.

The men rose.

"Your Highness."

Giveon gave a small nod.

"Sit."

They obeyed.

His eyes moved across the room.

"Why was I called here?"

One of the older councilmen leaned forward.

"We received information from our spies this morning."

Giveon's expression remained unreadable.

"About?"

The councilman exchanged a glance with the others.

"Your brothers."

The room became silent.

Giveon's jaw tightened slightly.

"James and Caleb?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"What have they done?"

"They haven't acted yet."

Giveon's grey eyes narrowed.

"But they're planning to."

Sir Jeffrey, who sat closest to him, finally spoke.

"Our spies have discovered that the two princes have been meeting secretly."

Giveon said nothing.

"They have apparently put aside their differences," Sir Jeffrey continued. "For now."

Giveon's gaze hardened.

"And joined forces."

Sir Jeffrey nodded.

"They intend to join hands against you."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Giveon slowly walked toward the table.

"How many men?"

"We don't know the exact number yet."

"Find out."

"We are trying."

"Trying isn't enough."

The words were quiet, but they carried weight.

The councilmen exchanged uneasy looks.

Giveon placed both hands against the edge of the table.

"If James and Caleb are preparing for war, I want to know how many soldiers they have, where they're stationed, which clans support them, and how much food and weaponry they've gathered."

He looked toward another councilman.

"And I want the names of every noble who has met with them within the last month."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Increase surveillance around the eastern border."

"That may alert them."

"Then make sure they don't notice."

The councilman lowered his head.

"Understood."

Giveon straightened.

"They won't attack the castle first."

Sir Jeffrey frowned.

"Why?"

"Because they know they can't take it."

Giveon walked toward the large map hanging across the wall.

Garcia was marked in black ink. The surrounding vampire territories were marked in red.

He studied it for several moments.

"They'll attack somewhere weaker."

His finger moved across the map.

"The northern villages."

Sir Jeffrey looked at the map.

"If they attack there, we'd be forced to send soldiers."

"Exactly."

"And while our forces are away—"

"They'll move toward the capital."

Giveon nodded.

"They don't want a war."

The councilmen looked confused.

"They want an opening."

He turned back toward them.

"So we won't give them one."

Giveon began explaining his strategy.

He would reinforce the northern villages without making it appear as though he expected an attack. Soldiers would be moved quietly through smaller roads rather than the main routes. Scouts would monitor the borders, while their spies continued feeding information to the council.

If James and Caleb moved troops, Giveon would know.

If they gathered weapons, he would know.

If they tried to persuade another clan to join them, he would know.

And if they attacked—

He would already be waiting.

For nearly an hour, the council discussed battle formations, defensive positions, supply routes, and possible allies.

Giveon listened more than he spoke.

But when he did speak, everyone listened.

He wasn't his father's son because of the blood in his veins.

He was his father's son because he had been trained to rule.

Eventually, Giveon stepped away from the map.

"That's all."

The councilmen began gathering their papers.

Giveon turned toward the doors.

He had another matter to attend to.

Ivanna.

He had promised her dinner later that evening.

He had no intention of breaking that promise.

His hand had barely reached the door when a voice stopped him.

"Your Highness."

Giveon paused.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then turned around.

Sir Jeffrey was still seated.

"There is another matter."

Giveon's expression hardened.

"What matter?"

Sir Jeffrey hesitated.

"It concerns the succession."

The room became silent again.

Giveon slowly walked back toward the table.

"What about it?"

Sir Jeffrey folded his hands together.

"In the event that this conflict escalates..."

He paused.

"...and something happens to you."

Giveon's eyes went cold.

"Something?"

Sir Jeffrey swallowed.

"If you were to die, Your Highness, Garcia would need an heir."

No one moved.

Giveon stared at him.

Then he gave a humorless smile.

"So that's what this is about."

Sir Jeffrey remained serious.

"It is a legitimate concern."

"My brothers are preparing to start a war against me, and you're worried about who will inherit the throne if they succeed?"

"We are worried about the future of Garcia."

"Then worry about keeping me alive."

"We are doing exactly that."

Giveon's expression darkened.

Sir Jeffrey continued carefully.

"There is another issue."

"Go on."

"Vampires do not produce children easily."

Giveon said nothing.

"And in your case..." Sir Jeffrey hesitated. "It would be even more difficult."

Giveon's eyes narrowed.

"Say what you mean."

Sir Jeffrey drew a slow breath.

"Your human blood makes producing an heir more complicated."

The words hung in the room.

Giveon's face became completely expressionless.

Sir Jeffrey continued.

"You have access to many vampire women of noble blood. Several families would gladly offer their daughters as mistresses to the future king."

Giveon's eyes sharpened.

"Enough."

Sir Jeffrey didn't stop.

"If you were to take several mistresses, Your Highness, the chances of producing a child would increase."

The room went still.

Giveon stared at him.

Then slowly stepped away from the table.

"You want me to take mistresses."

"For the sake of the kingdom."

"You want me to sleep with as many vampire women as possible."

Sir Jeffrey lowered his voice.

"To secure the succession."

Giveon's face hardened.

"And what about my wife?"

Nobody answered.

His voice became quieter.

"Have you forgotten that I was married today?"

Sir Jeffrey looked uncomfortable.

"No, Your Highness."

"Then why are we having this conversation?"

"Because Princess Ivanna is human."

Giveon's eyes flashed.

"She is my wife."

"And we respect that."

"Do you?"

Sir Jeffrey paused.

"We are merely considering the survival of the kingdom."

Giveon stared at him for several seconds.

Then his voice dropped.

"I will not take mistresses."

"Your Highness—"

"No."

"But—"

"I said no."

Sir Jeffrey stood.

"Prince Giveon, you must understand that if something happens to you, the kingdom could fall into chaos."

"I understand."

"Then you must understand our concern."

"I understand your concern."

Giveon's voice was calm now.

Too calm.

"But I will not use women to create children simply because my council is afraid of what might happen to me."

Sir Jeffrey opened his mouth.

Giveon continued.

"And I will not betray my wife."

The words silenced the entire chamber.

For the first time, something flickered across his face.

Anger.

Not the loud kind.

The kind that sat beneath the surface and burned.

He looked around the table.

"Is that all?"

No one answered.

Giveon turned toward the doors.

Sir Jeffrey called after him.

"Your Highness."

Giveon stopped but didn't turn.

"This isn't personal."

Giveon's fingers curled slowly into a fist.

"Neither was my mother's death."

The room went silent.

He turned his head slightly.

"You all called her a mistake."

Nobody spoke.

"You called me a halfbreed."

His grey eyes moved toward Sir Jeffrey.

"And now you're asking me to produce an heir because you're afraid the halfbreed might die."

Sir Jeffrey's face fell.

Giveon opened the doors.

"Find another solution."

Then he walked out.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind him.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Sir Jeffrey slowly lowered himself back into his chair.

One of the councilmen sighed.

"We've angered him."

Sir Jeffrey looked toward the closed doors.

"No."

His expression was grim.

"We reminded him why he doesn't trust us."

Giveon walked through the corridor alone.

His footsteps echoed against the stone.

He was angry.

More angry than he wanted to admit.

Not because they had discussed an heir.

That was expected.

It was the way they had spoken about it.

As though his life were nothing more than a political calculation.

As though his marriage meant nothing.

As though Ivanna meant nothing.

His hand tightened around the ring on his finger.

He had known what he was when he entered that room.

A prince.

A future king.

A halfbreed.

A weapon.

But for the first time that day, he remembered something else.

He was also a husband.

And somewhere upstairs, a human woman was waiting for him.

Giveon slowed.

His anger hadn't disappeared.

But one thought finally managed to push everything else aside.

Dinner.

He had promised Ivanna he would join her later that evening.

And unlike the council—

He intended to keep his promise.