Royal Bastard's Bloodstained Regression-Chapter 108: The Return of the Twin

The royal carriage rolled gently through the golden plains, its velvet curtains parted just enough to let the breeze in. Inside, Prince Gabriel sat beside his mother, Queen Bianca, the two bathed in afternoon sunlight.

Laughter filled the cabin.

"It’s been so long, my son," Bianca said, her voice soft but radiant. "You’ve grown so much. Just seeing you like this... it brings tears to my eyes."

Gabriel chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "You’re embarrassing me, Mother."

"I know, I know," she said, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. "But still, I’m just so glad to have you near again."

"You haven’t changed at all either," Gabriel replied warmly. "You’re still as beautiful as ever. Honestly, it’s like you’re aging backward."

Bianca laughed, gently patting his hand. "Oh, what a lovely son I have."

Their carriage creaked softly as it continued down the royal path, flanked by knights on horseback.

"But really, Mother," Gabriel said, more serious now, "you didn’t have to come all the way here to escort me back to Varyndor. You should’ve waited in the palace."

"I know," she admitted. "But I just couldn’t help myself. It’s been too long since I saw you."

Her smile faded slightly.

"I’ve been so lonely in the palace," she murmured. "Your father is consumed with war councils and politics... I barely see him. I only hope you won’t become like that when you wear the crown."

Gabriel shook his head firmly. "I won’t. I’ll prioritize my family over the throne. I promise. But... please don’t judge Father too harshly. He does care—he just shows it differently."

Bianca sighed but nodded. "You’re right. You always are, my golden son."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Bianca’s voice softened.

"I’m still glad you’re here with me," she whispered. "Not like your twin brother..."

Gabriel’s smile dimmed.

Bianca continued, eyes fixed on the window. "He hasn’t even written. Hasn’t returned. Hasn’t sent a word. Sometimes, I wonder if he even remembers he has a mother."

"I’ve thought about him too," Gabriel said quietly. "Every day."

He looked down at his hands.

"Is he alive? Is he safe? Does he eat? Sleep? I’ve tried to send letters but... I don’t even know where to send them anymore."

Queen Bianca reached across the carriage and gently took Gabriel’s hand in hers, her touch warm, motherly.

"You don’t have to worry," she said softly. "I’m sure your brother is fine. He left Varyndor because he is the reincarnation of the Demon King. He didn’t want to bring shame or danger to the kingdom."

She smiled faintly, though her eyes remained distant.

"Him going away... might’ve been his way of protecting us. Maybe he cared more than we thought."

Gabriel nodded slowly, but the lines of doubt stayed carved in his face.

"I still want to find him," he said. "When I become king, I’ll make it a priority."

Bianca’s gentle expression turned stern in an instant.

"Gabriel," she said, her voice low, commanding. "You can’t. You’ll be king. This isn’t the same as when you were boys sneaking into the garden after curfew. Ruling isn’t a game. You’ll have responsibilities—people depending on you. You can’t chase after ghosts."

He hesitated.

But something in his chest wouldn’t settle.

His twin wasn’t just a memory.

Daemon had been the mature one. The careful one. The quiet protector. Gabriel had always looked up to him—even envied him in secret.

Now he was gone, vanished without a trace.

And worst of all—Gabriel didn’t believe he was lost.

He believed he was hiding.

Or preparing.

Still, he didn’t push further.

But he couldn’t help noticing—again—how his mother’s tone sharpened when Daemon was mentioned.

He’d never understood it. Daemon was her son, too.

Why did she always sound... relieved?

Just as the silence thickened between them, Queen Bianca shifted the subject with a sudden, practiced ease.

"And what about your fiancée, Vivian?" she asked, voice lighter now. "Is she still doing well?"

Gabriel blinked, caught off guard.

"Yes," he said with a small smile. "Vivian’s fine."

But inside, he knew.

She was avoiding the question.

Again.

After a long journey, the royal carriage finally reached the towering gates of Varyndor.

The massive black gates creaked open, slow and solemn, revealing the sprawling capital beyond—stone buildings, high towers, and streets lined with anticipation.

The city guard, posted at the entrance, recognized the royal crest on the carriage instantly. Their armor clinked as they stood at attention and saluted.

The crown prince was home.

Gabriel leaned out the window and offered them a gracious smile, nodding in return.

As they entered the heart of the city, what greeted them caught Gabriel completely off guard.

Dozens of citizens lined the streets, their hands full of white lilies, the traditional flower of hope and renewal.

The moment the carriage appeared, petals filled the air like snow, fluttering down around them.

"The prince is back!"

"Long live Prince Gabriel!"

"Our sun has returned!"

People wept openly. Children sat on their fathers’ shoulders, waving handkerchiefs. Women held up their infants, calling out for blessings.

Gabriel’s heart swelled.

He stepped halfway out of the carriage and reached toward the crowd, gently touching the heads of children, offering smiles, waves, and warmth. A tired mother kissed his hand. A boy shouted his name with pride.

This was love. This was loyalty.

From across the seat, Queen Bianca smiled softly.

"See, Gabriel?" she said, her voice filled with pride. "These people adore you. Their hearts are yours." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Gabriel smiled back, a little breathless, a little overwhelmed. He settled back in his seat, leaning into the cushions with a quiet sigh.

"...It’s good to be home."

The carriage continued through the city’s center, the cheering never stopping, until they reached the towering gates of the royal palace.

The guards moved quickly, forming a barrier as the gates opened. They kept the surging crowd at bay, though chants of Gabriel’s name echoed through the stone corridors even after the doors closed.

Inside, golden banners hung from the walls. Red carpets had been rolled out. Servants bowed deeply. Trumpets flared.

The sun prince had returned to Varyndor.

Meanwhile, within the city walls of Varyndor, Daemon, Nyxtriel, Varian, and William slipped through the winding back streets. They had ridden in hidden among supply carts, one of which had traveled from a nearby outpost delivering food to the capital.

Luckily, Varyndor wasn’t far, and by sunset, they were inside.

"Damn," Varian muttered, eyes darting around the wide marble streets, the tall spires, the gold-trimmed towers. "This place is huge. You’re really a prince from here? I thought you were from some small-time backwater kingdom."

William’s eyes were just as wide, overwhelmed by the sheer size of the capital.

Daemon looked up at the familiar skyline.

"...Yeah," he said. "It’s been a long time since I’ve been home."

"So, what now?" Varian asked, lowering his hood as they moved deeper through the crowds. "That royal carriage earlier—was that your brother?"

Daemon nodded. "It was. I didn’t expect him to return so soon. But I guess now’s a good time to go and..." he paused, smirking, "...pay a visit to my family."

Varian stopped in his tracks. "Wait. You mean we’re going to the palace? With you?"

"Yes."

"But—but what are we supposed to say?! I’m not trained for noble etiquette. I don’t even know how to bow right! I’ll get us all thrown out before we even—"

"Enough talking," Nyxtriel cut in coldly. "Let my lord think. Your voice is loud and annoying."

"Damn, alright," Varian muttered, throwing up his hands. "No need to go full assassin on me."

They followed Daemon until they reached the main road to the royal palace, where a massive crowd had gathered outside the gates.

People pushed and shoved, still chanting Gabriel’s name. Trumpets played. Banners of the sun-emblem flapped in the wind.

"Why the hell is there still a crowd here?" Varian muttered. "How are we even supposed to get in?"

Daemon didn’t answer.

He stepped forward, hands at his sides, cloak still pulled low over his face. One step. Then another. He began pushing through the people—not politely, but with brute force.

Men and women stumbled aside, yelling insults.

"Watch it!"

"Who does he think he is?!"

Daemon ignored them.

The crowd’s anger drew the attention of the palace guards.

A group of them stepped forward, swords in hand. "You there! Hooded one—identify yourself!"

Nyxtriel reached for her weapon.

But Daemon lifted a hand.

And then, slowly, pulled down his hood.

The guards froze.

Their eyes widened. Mouths dropped.

"...Prince Daemon?"

A breathless moment passed.

Then one of them turned.

"OPEN THE GATES!" he shouted.

The palace gates opened with a groan, and the crowd gasped in waves.

"Is that... Prince Daemon?"

"No way—he’s back after two years?"

"His hair... wasn’t it black before?"

"He looks different... older. Stronger. He looks just like Prince Gabriel now!"

All eyes turned as Daemon stepped through the threshold, the cloak falling behind his shoulders, white hair glinting under the sun.

Behind him walked Nyxtriel, calm but alert, William, eyes wide with awe, and Varian, shifting nervously beneath his hood.

One of the royal guards stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"My prince, with all due respect, you—can’t bring in outsiders."

Daemon stopped mid-step.

"What did you say?"

The guard’s voice trembled. "It was... a direct instruction from the king. Not even extended nobles are permitted past the threshold without clearance. Only immediate family is allowed..."

Daemon’s brows twitched, anger flashing in his eyes.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak—

"Daemon!"

All heads turned.

A golden figure was sprinting across the courtyard.

Gabriel.

He ran with a smile on his face, waving, eyes filled with pure joy.

Varian’s jaw dropped. "Holy shit... there’s another Daemon?"

He looked between the two. "You guys are twins?"

His stomach turned. He remembered Daemon’s rage, his cruelty, his unmatched power. If this one was the same... gods help them all.

Meanwhile, Nyxtriel’s entire body tensed beside Daemon.

She didn’t have to speak—he felt it through their bond.

Michael.

The reincarnated Hero.

The one who killed Seraphiel—the former Demon King.

Nyxtriel’s aura flared, bloodlust rolling off her in quiet waves.

Daemon reached back, calmly taking her hand.

Control yourself, his grip said without words.

She clenched her jaw but didn’t move.

Gabriel reached them, his golden hair bouncing as he passed the stunned guards and nobles, and without a second thought—

He threw his arms around Daemon.

"Brother," Gabriel whispered, his voice cracking, "I’m so glad you’re back."