Chapter 40 - The Seventh Covenant
I stepped through the bronze doors into the sanctuary, my weapon lowered but ready, my eyes locking onto the Matriarch. Behind me, Sarah emerged from the shadows of the crypt stairs, holding Lily and Evelyn by their hands. The two girls, identical in every feature, stood side by side in the flickering candlelight, their presence sending a visible shockwave through the assembled council members.
Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the black-suited elders.
"Two..." one of the senior councilors gasped, stepping back. "The bloodline protocol strictly forbade twins. The charter demands single-line primogeniture!"
"Silence!" the Matriarch struck her cane against the marble floor, the sharp crack silencing the assembly. She stared at the two girls, her thin lips curling into a sneer of pure contempt. "An anomaly. An administrative error that should have been eradicated two years ago in the river. You have brought abominations into this house, Julian."
"They are the legitimate heirs of the De La Tour sovereign trust," I said, my voice echoing off the high stone vaults with unwavering conviction. "Under the Seventh Covenant of the founding charter, if twin daughters of the primary line survive to their seventh year, the Matriarch’s regency is instantly dissolved. The power reverts entirely to the sovereign bloodline."
The Matriarch laughed—a dry, rattling sound. "The Seventh Covenant? That myth died with your father, boy. The physical charter was destroyed in the Great Fire. You have no proof. You have no leverage. You have only two sickly children and an exhausted wife."
She raised her hand, signaling the armed guards flanking the altar to advance. "Take them. Terminate the father and the mother. Prepare the children for the extraction protocol."
"Wait," a voice rang out from the shadowy entrance of the main cathedral doors behind the council.
The heavy oak doors of the cathedral blasted open with concussive force, the cold night wind sweeping through the nave and extinguishing hundreds of candles in an instant.
A solitary figure stepped out of the swirling fog and rain, their long coat dripping onto the polished marble. The figure reached into their breast pocket and pulled out an ancient, gold-trimmed parchment bearing seven unbroken wax seals—the authentic, original Seventh Covenant.
The Matriarch froze, her face draining of all color, her cane trembling against the floor. "You...? But... I saw you executed three years ago!"
The figure stepped into the light of the remaining altar candles. It wasn't an elder. It wasn't a mercenary.
The person holding the key to our salvation was the one person Julian had trusted above all others—the man who had orchestrated the floral handbag's journey from the very beginning.
May you like
The figure raised their head, locking eyes with Julian, and smiled a cold, terrifying smile.
"The game isn't over, Julian," the stranger said softly. "It's only just begun."
