Chapter 342: Meredith’s Calm vs Mabel’s Fire
Draven.
The clink of cutlery and the faint aroma of fresh bread filled the dining hall.
Meredith sat beside me, her cheeks still faintly flushed from the run, though she carried herself with the same poise as ever.
Xamira was already halfway through her boiled egg, humming under her breath as though the world beyond these walls didn’t exist.
I set my coffee cup down and looked towards one of the servants standing discreetly by the side. "Turn on the television and tune it to the Duskmor LIVE morning news."
The servant bowed and moved quickly, pressing the remote. The screen flickered to life, its glow casting pale light across the table.
A female news presenter appeared, her voice smooth, professional, and detached.
"Good morning. We begin today with breaking news. Overnight, there was a sudden bombing and destruction in the Eastern Woods. Witnesses reported loud explosions, fires visible even from the city’s outskirts."
The screen shifted as the footage rolled—shaky handheld clips of the forest still smouldering, trees blackened and split, flames clawing at the dawn.
The camera moved across ash-covered ground, smoke curling like ghosts into the sky.
Then I caught Meredith’s eyes flicker toward me, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.
The presenter continued. "Authorities have reason to believe that the Eastern Woods was being used as a hideout for a crime syndicate. While details remain scarce, officials are assuring citizens that there is no ongoing threat to the public."
I leaned back and tapped my fingers against the armrest of my chair.
The presenter shuffled her notes before looking straight into the camera. "Mayor Brackham addressed the situation earlier this morning. Let’s hear from the Mayor."
Just then, the screen cut to Brackham standing at a polished podium, the Duskmor seal gleaming behind him.
His suit was dark, his tie neatly knotted, his face composed with that practised authority humans seemed to admire.
"Citizens of Duskmor," his voice rang through the speakers, smooth and commanding, "last night our security forces acted swiftly to neutralize a dangerous threat hidden within the Eastern Woods."
He paused just enough to let the weight of his words sink in before continuing.
"For weeks, intelligence suggested that a criminal syndicate had been smuggling weapons into our city. Their stockpile was hidden deep in the forest—explosives, firearms, and materials capable of mass destruction. We could not risk such danger spilling into our streets, endangering our families."
The footage behind him shifted to grainy clips of the burning woods, smoke rising like a funeral pyre. His voice carried on, unwavering.
"So last night, I gave the order to strike. The operation was successful. The stockpile was destroyed. Duskmor is safer today because decisive action was taken."
Around me, the dining hall was silent save for the faint scrape of Xamira’s spoon against her bowl. And Meredith’s eyes never left the screen, her expression unreadable.
Brackham’s lip curled faintly, and I recognized the same smugness from before.
"Let it be clear: we will not tolerate threats within our borders. We will protect our people at all costs. Duskmor stands strong."
After that, he stepped back from the podium to polite applause from the audience that had been staged for the broadcast.
Then the camera panned once more across the smouldering forest before cutting back to the presenter’s composed smile.
But I had heard enough. I gestured with two fingers, and the servant bowed before switching the television off.
Silence settled thick over the table.
Dennis leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with a smirk. "Wow. I didn’t know this Grandpa could be so smart."
Meredith scoffed quietly, her violet eyes hard. "Smart? I feel like humans are the gullible ones. Brackham isn’t smart. He’s just good at lying."
A smile tugged at my mouth. That was my Meredith—my Queen. She was sharper than any of them.
Jeffery set his spoon down with a soft clink. "It seems like the first round of war is about to start."
Dennis’s smirk widened. "The question is... how long will it take? Hours? Days? Months before the war finally begins?"
Just then, Mabel’s fork slipped against her plate with a sharp clatter. Her face drained of colour.
"What war is this?" Gary glanced between us all, his expression tight with a hint of confusion.
I bet he only thought the war would initially be between us and the Humans. He never expected Vampires to tag along.
Dennis leaned forward slightly, his tone calm, almost casual, as he replied to him. "The war between humans and vampires."
The words landed like a strike. Mabel gasped, her eyes darting to the dark windows as though she expected shadows to break through.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no... then, I can’t stay here. I want to return to Stormveil before it starts."
Meredith let out a sharp scoff, her lips curling with disdain.
I, however, caught Dennis’s eye across the table and glanced at him—a silent understanding as my thoughts curled low, steady and unyielding.
"How can I let you two leave so easily after everything you did to my wife?"
Then Dennis turned his head toward Mabel, his gaze glinting as he smiled. "What’s the rush?" he asked softly, his tone teasing, though his eyes told another story entirely.
Meredith finally leaned forward, her voice deceptively light. "I thought you and Brother liked it here. You should stay longer. There are still places in Duskmoor you need to see."
Her words were sharp, though her smile revealed nothing.
Mabel’s lips parted, her shock plain before her expression twisted into anger. She scoffed, her eyes flashing violet fire.
"You were never interested in Gary or me. Never bothered about us. And now suddenly, with a war between humans and Vampires looming, you seem to care?"
Her voice trembled but carried venom. "Do you take me for a fool, Meredith? Do you think I don’t know you’re making fun of me, of us?"
The tension bit into the air, thick enough to cut.
I sat back, my fingers resting against the stem of my glass, watching the exchange unfold. Meredith’s calm versus Mabel’s fire.
To anyone else, it might look like a sisterly spat. To me, it was another reminder that my wife was not the weak, eager-to-please woman her siblings thought she was.
Dennis smirked faintly, clearly entertained. Jeffery stayed silent, his gaze lowered, though I could tell he was listening carefully.
Gary, for once, seemed unsure, caught between defending his sister’s outburst and gauging the weight of my presence at the head of the table.
And Meredith’s eyes had sharpened, cutting clean through Mabel’s accusation.