CHAPTER 889: ZION AND FIONA’S MARRIAGE (PART-2)

"No, I don’t."

The air grew thick as Leah’s words of rejection filled the hall.

Her voice echoed across the throne room, slicing through the silence like a blade as she explained before Azzy even asked her.

"The people of Camelot, the commoners as well as the nobles, have already been laughing at the royal family because of my aunt’s same-sex marriage. For more than four decades, we’ve borne that shame. Even now, we are mocked in whispers, in courts and banquets, behind smiling faces."

Her fingers tightened into a fist in a mixture of anger and frustration.

"And now, that my son marries his own aunt?"

"That the future King of Camelot marries a member of the previous generation? His own blood? Fiona isn’t even a distant relative."

Zion’s fists clenched at his side. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

Then, sharply, he stepped forward.

"Mother." His voice was loud and firm, responding to Leah’s rant. "I like Fiona. And I plan to fight the world for her. If I have to fight you too... then so be it."

Fiona’s lips parted, stunned. Her fingers instinctively almost reached for Zion’s, but she kept them to herself in the end.

Leah’s eyes flared wide at his words. "You... you would throw away everything for this madness?"

Zion didn’t flinch at all. He replied, staring straight into her eyes. "Mother, you want me to be King. I never asked for it."

"Then who should get the throne?" Leah snapped, her voice cracking now. "There are no heirs left. No one! Only you! And now, you’re going to throw away Camelot... for a girl?"

Zion raised his voice now, face turning red with anger and heartache. "I don’t care. The kingdom can go to hell for all I care. If you don’t care about my happiness, then I don’t care about your dream either."

The hall went silent at his outburst.

Even Azzy narrowed his eyes, watching the mother and son clash like thunderclouds.

"Why can’t you just understand?" Leah shouted. "She’s your aunt, Zion! It is inappropriate. You want to go down in history as the one who was committed in a taboo relationship?"

Zion took a step forward, his voice unwavering. "So what?"

Murmurs broke out.

"The Ash Clan is filled with people who marry their own twins. Not cousins. Not step-siblings. Twins."

"We’re cultivators who live for thousands of years. You think anyone will even remember after a hundred years?"

"You think that matters more than the life I want to live?"

Zion almost growled at his mother. One could see how serious he was.

Leah was shaking now. "You brat, the Ash Clan is part of the Death Clan," she hissed. "The hidden clans hide in the shadows. They live out of sight. No one judges them because no one sees them."

She pointed directly at Zion. "But you... You’re the future King of Camelot. A public figure. There are millions who know your name."

"Even if you become a demigod... You won’t be able to silence the whispers of the commoners. It would have been fine centuries ago. But don’t you know how much media runs rampant and how the internet blows up on such scandals?"

Zion’s face hardened.

The silence in the throne hall was oppressive, stretched taut like a string about to snap.

Zion’s breathing was heavy, his hands trembling faintly at his sides, clenched into fists.

But his voice... his voice was steel. "I. Don’t. Care."

The words cut through the quiet like a blade. Fiona looked up, her eyes wide.

"I’ve lived my whole life under your rules, Mother," Zion continued, stepping forward, locking eyes with Thea. "I walked the path you paved. I fought the battles you chose. I smiled when you needed me to, bowed when you told me to, and swallowed every word when I disagreed."

His voice rose further and further in pure conviction.

"But this... this one thing, this love... I claimed it for myself. It took me years of guilt and shame to even face it, and even more courage to confess it. And now that I’ve finally held her hand, I’m not letting go."

Leah stood, her expression blank at first, unreadable. Then, a sharp breath left her lungs, as if something inside had cracked.

She stepped forward, slowly. "Alright." Her heels echoed on the marble floor, each step measured like a countdown.

"Then choose," she said coldly.

Zion blinked. "What?"

Leah’s voice rang clear across the room. "Be Azrael’s son... or Azrael’s brother-in-law."

Confusion spread like wildfire across the onlookers’ faces.

Zion’s brows furrowed. "What... what do you mean?"

"It’s simple," Leah said, her voice sharpening with every word. "Leave her and you remain the son of Azrael, your lineage intact. Whether now or in the future, you’ll still have a father, a legacy, and a place in history."

"But if you marry Fiona..." She paused. "Then you cut all blood ties to the Death Clan. I will strip away the divinity you inherited from Azrael. I will erase your claim to both your father’s name and your royal blood."

The room froze.

Even Azrael, seated on the throne, sat up straighter, his hands curling around the ends of the armrest.

Leah didn’t stop. "You’ll become the son of an unknown man. A commoner. No more legacy, no more inheritance, no more name. So, either you will have a father and a bright future... or a lover and a life filled with criticism. You have to choose one."

The words echoed in the high chamber like war drums.

Orion’s mouth hung slightly open. Affea had covered her lips in shock. Vesyrn’s eyes twitched, his hands flexing.

Fiona’s face drained of color.

And Azrael... Azrael rose for the first time, almost instinctively.

"Leah..." he said, his voice low. "What are you saying? Why would you..."

But Leah raised her hand to silence him.

"You are the Clan Lord of Death Clan now, Azrael," she interrupted him with a sharp statement, turning her gaze toward him without an ounce of hesitation. "And this is a conversation between a mother and her son. I do not give you the right to intervene."

Azrael blinked... once, then twice, as if the very breath had been knocked out of him. He didn’t react... No, he couldn’t react.

Zion looked from one to the other, his mouth open, words tangled in his throat.

"What if I choose both?" he finally asked, almost a whisper.

Leah’s eyes glinted. "Then I’ll hold the Death Clan in contempt, and go to war against them."

The entire hall erupted in gasps at that declaration.

"And believe me..." she added, slowly turning to everyone, one after another. "Apart from Azrael, none of you can stop me. Not even together."

"And he..." she pointed a finger at Azrael, "he’ll have to kill me to let this marriage happen."

Her eyes burned into Zion’s. "So yes. You’ll have to marry her over my dead body. And I don’t mean it figuratively."

She turned on her heels before anyone could respond.

"You have 24 hours to decide."

And with that, she stormed out of the palace, the great doors slamming behind her like thunder.

A hollow silence swallowed the room as she left.

Zion stood there, frozen, his head lowered, shoulders slumped as if all strength had drained from him.

Fiona looked at him, eyes shining with emotion, her lips trembling. She took a step toward him but stopped short once again, not knowing if her touch would soothe or shatter him.

Orion blinked his eyes in silence, wondering what would happen now. Affea clutched Fiona’s shoulder in support.

Meanwhile, Azzy exhaled and slowly sank back onto the throne, resting his elbows on his knees. He covered his mouth with his hand and muttered:

"What kind of trouble is this..."