Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 818: What Have You Done?

Queen Victoria barely managed to set down her third—or was it her fifth?—cup of water on the table when the door to her chamber swung open. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Queen Nirvana strolled in with her typical air of haughty indifference.

"Oh God, no," Victoria muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to ward off the headache that had been building for the past hour.

The day had been relentless, with one visit after another from courtiers, advisers, and worried nobility, all seeking confirmation about the disturbing rumors swirling through the palace. Rumors that her would-have-been daughter-in-law, Islinda, was a Dark Fae. Now, her irritable co-wife was here to add fuel to the fire. She could barely stand it.

Nirvana took one look at Victoria’s sour expression and raised an eyebrow. "You certainly look like shit," she commented without emotion. "You’ve aged ten years in just one."

Victoria’s patience, already frayed, snapped further. "What do you want, Nirvana?" she demanded through gritted teeth. She was in no mood for verbal sparring.

Nirvana smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes. "You know why I’m here, don’t you? I just heard some very twisted news, and I want to verify it from the source. You were there, after all."

Before Victoria could respond, the door burst open again. This time, there was no measured grace or cold demeanor. Queen Maeve stormed into the room, eyes wild and feral, her expression one of pure, unbridled fury.

"Is it true?" Maeve’s voice was a snarl, and she nearly got into Victoria’s face, her breath hot with the demand. "Is it true that Islinda is a Dark Fae?!"

Victoria threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "Seriously?" she snapped, looking between her two fellow queens, both of whom had entered her chambers uninvited, unannounced, and now without any semblance of respect. "What happened to common courtesy?"

But Maeve was in no mood for decorum. "Just answer the damn question, Victoria!" she barked, her voice rising with every syllable.

"What?" Victoria was dumbfounded by Maeve’s audacity, her tone and her sheer nerve. As Queen of the Fae, Victoria deserved respect, not this brash confrontation.

"Is Islinda a Dark Fae?" Maeve demanded more fiercely, her eyes burning with intensity.

"No, no, no," Victoria began to shake her head, her voice rising in indignation. "We might be co-wives, but you don’t get to speak to me that way. After all, when it comes to hierarchies, I’m your senior, and you’re nothing but the past Fae Queen."

For a moment, there was nothing but an awkward silence between the three queens, tension thick in the air. Everyone knew not to remind Queen Maeve about the position she once had and lost.

Then, without warning, Maeve began to thrash about the room, knocking over anything within reach—vases, books, a glass of water—sending them crashing to the ground. Her rage was palpable, like a storm brewing in the confined space of Victoria’s chambers.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Maeve?!" Victoria shouted, stunned by her co-wife’s erratic behavior.

Maeve stopped only to get right into Victoria’s face, snarling, "You knew what she was, didn’t you?"

"W-what?" Victoria stuttered, caught off guard.

Maeve let out a harsh, humorless laugh, the sound grating against Victoria’s nerves. "Out of the three of us, you’ve always been the weakest one. The humane one. Without the backbone to stand up for once. It shouldn’t surprise me if you knew all along and kept her identity hidden. Oh, I see it now..."

Victoria could only stare in disbelief as Maeve’s eyes lit up with a sudden, sinister idea. "Is that why Andre decided to marry her? To keep her identity hidden? Like mother, like son. The both of you are so weak, you should have just gone to live in the human realm and continued your humanitarian services there."

"This is going too far, Maeve," Queen Nirvana warned, her voice cutting through the tension. No longer content to watch Maeve insult Victoria, Nirvana’s gaze had narrowed, sensing the dangerous shift in the atmosphere. She had seen the way Victoria had gone deadly still, and it wasn’t a good sign.

But Maeve laughed again, this time with even more venom. "Isn’t that the truth now? Thanks to her, Aldric has a mate, and knowing Oberon, he’ll be too weak to raise a finger against her beloved son. And it’ll all be because of her." She poked Victoria in the chest, pushing her point home. "All because she and her cowardly son didn’t have the backbone to do the right thing."

Everything happened in a blur. One moment Maeve was taunting, her words biting, and the next, Victoria snapped. Her hand came up and connected with Maeve’s face, the sound of the slap echoing through the room like a thunderclap.

For a moment, Maeve just stood there, stunned, processing the fact that Victoria had just struck her. The meek, lowly queen had dared to lay a hand on her. Slowly, a deranged laugh bubbled up from Maeve’s throat, and she sneered. "I guess you do have a backbone after all—"

She didn’t finish her sentence because Victoria hit her again, this time with more force. Maeve’s eyes flashed with anger, all traces of humor vanishing. "How dare you—"

But Victoria was already on her, tackling her to the ground. The room descended into chaos as the two queens grappled, Victoria on top, delivering swift, heavy punches that Maeve didn’t even see coming. Maeve tried to fight back, but Victoria’s rage was relentless, her blows fueled by years of pent-up frustration.

"Victoria, that’s enough..." Nirvana tried to intervene, but Victoria, in her fury, used her wind ability to knock Nirvana aside. Nirvana hit the wall with a sickening thud, sliding to the floor, momentarily dazed.

With no one left to stop her, Victoria continued her assault on Maeve. For the first time in her life, Maeve saw her life flash before her eyes. There was a wild, animalistic look on Victoria’s face, her normally calm and composed demeanor shattered by a primal fury. She almost looked like she was going to kill her.

"I am not weak! I am not pathetic! I am not a coward!" Victoria’s voice was a growl, each word punctuated by another punch. Her fists were bloodied from pummeling Maeve’s face, but she didn’t care. The sickening feeling of her fists connecting with Maeve’s flesh was thrilling, intoxicating.

It wasn’t until Nirvana, having recovered, tackled Victoria to the ground with a desperate lunge and shouted, "Enough!" that Victoria seemed to snap out of her frenzy. The red haze of her rage lifted, and she looked down at her hands, trembling as the reality of what she had done sank in.

Queen Maeve lay unconscious on the floor, her face a bloody pulp, her breaths shallow and labored. Victoria stared, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. She had beaten Maeve to a bloody mess—nearly to death.

Nirvana, still holding her down, whispered, "What have you done, Victoria?"