Chapter 101: Chapter : 101 : Alethea Albinos!

(A/N: Kindly read the Time System from the Auxiliary Chapter for better understanding.)

The carriage rolled deeper into the city, wheels creaking softly over cobblestones glistening with dew. The streets were quiet, only the occasional torch crackling along the roadside or a shuttered window whispering of life behind closed doors.

Above them, the sky stretched wide and endless, painted in dark velvet with specks of starlight shimmering faintly. Aiden looked outside through the mirror. The blue moon peeps from behind the clouds.

“It must be… what? The Ninth Bell past Solun?” he murmured.

Lysandra glanced at him, arching a brow. “You’ve grown used to goblin timekeeping, but here in Albinos, humans mark the hour differently.”

Arisha smiled faintly, her crimson eyes catching the torchlight. “They read the sky. The Moon has crossed half its path. That makes it the Ninth Strike of Lumir.”

Aiden gave a low whistle. *So about what we’d call ’late evening.* He thought.

Leona tilted her head, looking toward her Daddy. “Daddy… what’s the Ninth Strike?”

Ivy perked up from her seat, eager to explain. “Every day is split into twelve Strikes. The humans say the stars and the moon guide each one. When the ninth comes, most families have already finished their feasts and gone to rest. Only watchmen, hunters, and lovers stay awake.”

“That’s… poetic,” Vegia muttered, her cheeks faintly flushed as her eyes flicked toward Aiden.

“Lovers, hm?” Thristle grinned, stretching lazily. “Sounds like the perfect hour for My King to—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll gag you.” Arisha’s hand went to her sword, her voice flat but sharp.

The hobgoblin princess just smirked, unbothered.

Luna stirred faintly against Aiden’s arm, her voice soft and sleepy. “Master… what time is it?”

Aiden brushed her silver hair back gently. “It’s the Ninth Strike of Lumir. Means night’s almost halfway done. Rest easy.”

She sighed happily, nuzzling closer. “Mm… as long as you’re here, time doesn’t matter.”

—

The carriage rattled along the cobblestone street, torches hissing in the wind. Aiden’s eyes caught movement through the side window—a figure in a black cloak slipping into a narrow alley.

The figure stopped, raised a hand, and a faint glow bloomed on the wall. A circle of pale light flared—runes, quick and sharp—then just as fast, the glow collapsed into nothing.

Gone.

Aiden frowned but leaned back before anyone noticed his interest. Not the time to stir curiosity. And besides, the other had fallen asleep

Zera’s rough voice floated from the driver’s seat. “Capital’s got more shadows than light at night. Best to keep your eyes forward, Hero.”

“You saw it too?” Aiden asked quietly.

“I see too much for my own good.” Zera’s shoulders shifted. “But I’ve learned—don’t poke what hides in alleys after the Ninth Strike.”

Arisha tilted her head, still sleepy, “Suspicious.”

“Suspicious and none of our concern. Not tonight,” Aiden said, his tone closing the matter.

Luna murmured sleepily against his shoulder. “Master… don’t look at anyone else.”

He smiled faintly, brushing her hair. “I’m not.”

—

The carriage rolled past merchant rows and darkened bakeries. No crowds now, only the occasional drunk staggering home. Guards rode alongside them in silence, their armor clicking with every step of their horses.

Inside the carriage, Thristle stretched, smirking. “Strange, My King. Normally, queens and kings make you wait weeks before you see their face. Yet here we are, riding to her palace in the middle of the night.”

Nyxion flicked her tail idly. “It’s either hospitality… or curiosity.”

“Curiosity,” Lysandra said firmly. “Word of us has already spread through half the capital. The Queen will want to see who exactly walks into her city under Goblin King’s seal.”

“Good,” Arisha muttered. “Better to meet her quickly and set the tone than to let rumors decide it.”

Zera called back through the open slot. “Tone or not, remember—this is the Queen of Albinos. She’s not some tavern maid or back alley noble. Don’t play games in her court.”

“Court?” Thristle chuckled. “Isn’t it closed?”

“It is,” Zera said. “Which makes this meeting even stranger. Ministers leave after the Eighth Strike. At Ninth, the Queen sits only with herself. And maybe her ghosts.”

Vegia’s eyes widened. “She has ghosts?”

“Just a saying,” Zera chuckled. “Though some say she does talk to the dead when the moon’s high enough.”

Ivy hugged Fluffynugget tighter. “Onii-chan… she sounds scary.”

Aiden rubbed her head gently. “If she wanted to scare us, she wouldn’t be meeting us at all. Let’s not jump to stories.”

—

Deep inside the marble palace, Queen Alethea Albinos sat in her private chamber, not the throne room.

The chamber was draped in pale silk, fur-lined cushions spread across carved chairs. A tall window let in the moonlight, spilling blue over her form.

Alethea The queen was a vision of dominance and allure. Her gown, pure white and stitched to perfection, clung to every curve with merciless precision. The fabric strained over her huge, full breasts, the low neckline offering teasing view of cleavage that demanded attention without shame. Each breath she took pressed the tight bodice against her chest, as if it could barely contain the sheer weight of her boobs.

Her waist, narrow and sharp, flared out into broad, fertile hips that gave her an almost sinful silhouette, the kind that could unmake the composure of any man bold enough to meet her gaze. The dress hugged those hips so tightly that the seams seemed ready to burst, emphasizing the sway of her lower body with every slight movement.

Her long hair, platinum, cascaded around her shoulders like a silken frame, but it was the contrast of that angelic crown of gold above her head and the raw, straining sensuality of her body below that made her presence intoxicating. She was a queen, yes, draped in power and majesty, but also a woman — one whose curves were bold, commanding, and impossible to ignore.

A maid knelt to pour her wine, glancing nervously at her queen’s silence.

Alethea finally spoke, her voice low, smooth. “He comes tonight.”

The maid blinked. “Your Majesty means…?”

“The Beast Tamer,” Alethea murmured, swirling the crimson liquid in her cup as her gaze sharpened. “A foreigner who has taken goblins, hobgoblin and beastkin as his family… who dares to weave bonds where others see only walls. The one destined to stand as a bridge between human and demon. The child spoken of in prophecy.”

The maid shifted uneasily. “Strange company, Your Majesty. Dangerous company.”

Selene smiled faintly, though it never reached her eyes. “Dangerous men fascinate me.”

Her gaze shifted toward a locket resting on the table—inside, a miniature painting of her late husband, the King, and beside it, another of a gold-haired young woman.

Her daughter. Nineteen now.

The Queen touched the locket softly, her tone quieter. “For her sake… I must see him with my own eyes. If he truly walks with wolf, goblin, and beast kin alike… maybe coexistence is not only a dream.”

The maid bowed deeply. “Shall I prepare the chamber?”

Selene lifted her chin. “No council. No guards. Tonight, I want to judge the man, not the title.

—

The carriage slowed, Eagleons clopping over polished stone as the palace gates opened. Moonlight gleamed off white marble towers, banners of silver fluttering lazily in the wind.

The group leaned out, taking it in.

“Big place,” Thristle muttered. “Still not bigger than my King’s presence.”

Vegia rolled her eyes. “Does everything remind you of him?”

“Yes.”

“Baka,” Vegia muttered, cheeks hot.

The carriage halted before the grand stairs. Guards flanked the entrance, but none moved. Zera hopped down, speaking low. “Remember—bow once, speak only when allowed, and don’t stare too long. Human queens don’t take kindly to wandering eyes.”

Arisha smirked. “Then Sir’s doomed.”

“Oi,” Aiden muttered.

They disembarked, one by one. The guards’ eyes flicked uneasily over the mix of races—wolf girl clinging to Aiden, goblin princess holding a dragon child, a tall goblin carrying a sword, another goblin, who looked like the driver, goblin child holding a fluffy beast, dark-skinned womam with a tail, walking elegantly, hobgoblin princess smirking boldly, another hobgoblin, clutching her staff to her chest

One soldier whispered to another: “What kind of family is this…?”

Aiden heard, but ignored.

At the top of the stairs, a servent bowed stiffly. “Sir Aiden Nightshade. The Queen awaits.”

—

Inside, corridors stretched with velvet carpets, the air thick with incense. The palace was quiet at this hour, almost eerily so, their footsteps echoing.

“Feels like walking into a church,” Luna whispered, squeezing Aiden’s arm.

“More like a spider’s web,” Arisha said under her breath.

They were led not to the throne hall but toward a side chamber. Candles flickered in iron holders, and a servant pushed the door open.

Zera was told to wait outside.

The Queen sat waiting.

Alethea didn’t rise. She didn’t need to. Seated on her cushioned chair, gown clinging to her curves, crown gleaming, her sheer presence made even Thristle falter for once.

Her eyes lifted, piercing, lingering on each one before resting on Aiden.

“So this,” she said softly, “is the Beast Tamer.”

The words lingered like silk, smooth yet edged.

Aiden inclined his head, steady. “Your Majesty. Thank you for granting us audience at such an hour.”

Alethea studied him openly—his calm posture, the wolf girl at his side, the goblin princess straight-backed holding a dragon child, sleeping, the shy goblin child peeking out, the dark beauty, the swordwoman goblin, a commoner goblin, the hobgoblin princess, the hobgoblin mage.

Her lips curved slightly. “Son-in-law of Kragg Grimclaw. Husband to goblin, wolf, hobgoblin, and something alike. Father to a dragon child not of your blood. A Beast Tamer…”

“I am just lucky, I guess,” Aiden replied, tone even.

“Perhaps.” Her eyes narrowed, curious. “Or perhaps not.”

For a long pause, no one moved. The Queen’s gaze lingered on him, then dropped deliberately to the women around him, studying their closeness. She smirked faintly, as if amused by what she saw.

Finally, she leaned back, the swell of her chest pressing against lace as she spoke. “Tell me, Sir Aiden… what manner of man builds such a family?”

—

END OF Chapter : 101 : ALETHEA ALIBINOS!

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