[BL] Alpha, You've Got the Wrong Mate!

Chapter 297 — All Your Fault!

Chaos had spread across the royal palace when Crown Prince Rihaan was nowhere to be found.

What began as confusion at first quickly turned into panic. Orders were passed down from the superiors, every door of the palace was forced open, and patrols doubled without much explanation.

Whispers lingered in the castle hallways—of treason, of theft, or perhaps worse, of murder.

Yet, none spoke openly about it. Only those who received the orders knew. All the palace guards were given only one task: find the First Prince of Danshin.

"It’s all your fault," the queen sighed, lowering herself onto the couch.

The king glanced at her, halting just before his desk.

"What do you mean?" He furrowed his eyebrows as if clueless.

"He must have heard about your decision to change the crown prince," she said, her tone sharp with bitterness.

Rudra scoffed, shaking his head.

"And who would tell him?"

The queen shook her head and narrowed her eyes. It was obvious to her. Even the palace walls had ears—a lesson she had learned from the very first day she had entered this building as queen.

"Oh, and let’s not forget what you did to him when he was younger." Her grip tightened around the armrest.

Just recalling it made her blood boil.

After giving birth to Rihaan, the king had sent her back to her parents’ household to recuperate—her body had been far too frail at the time. Yet he had chosen to keep the child in the castle, to grow without the care of his mother simply because he was the first prince of the kingdom.

For years, she hadn’t seen her son. Every letter she sent, every request for an audience, was met with the same reply: [Prince Rihaan is well, and travelling would only endanger you both.]

And so the years slipped by, and the pair of mother and son were denied even a single meeting.

When she finally returned—without prior notice—she witnessed the horrific side of the man she had once loved.

Her son stood before his father, head bowed, hands clasped tightly behind his back. His cheeks were red, as though... beaten.

She shook her head, refusing to believe it. The king would never—

But whatever hope she had left shattered when Rihaan confessed everything through sobs, blaming her for leaving him alone in this hell.

Even the King noted that Rihaan was never the same after that. He became strange—rebellious, perhaps—making it his mission to get on his father’s nerves. And he succeeded effortlessly.

From that day on, the Queen made it a rule to be present whenever father and son met.

Even so, accidents happened. There were times she could not reach him—Revhara among them—bound by the very status that named her Queen that stopped her from neglecting her duties. She was to attend the wedding—only—Rihaan returned after cancelling it.

And the son who came back to her was nothing like the one who had left the palace.

"Yes, of course. Blame me all you want!" Rudra shouted, slamming his hand against the desk.

The queen looked up, unbothered by his obvious anger.

She sighed, leaning her head backward.

None of these arguments would bring back her son. They just needed to search properly.

"Just find him. I don’t care how. I need my son here," she said, rubbing her temples.

The mere thought that her son might have abandoned everything gnawed at her, pain spreading through her body.

The door slammed open, and a knight rushed inside, panting.

"Y-Your Excellency!" he greeted, struggling to catch his breath.

"What is it? Did you find him?!" Rudra demanded, already striding toward the armoured man.

The knight shook his head, prompting the king to sigh.

"B-But we found the Crown Prince’s omega in the dungeon—rather, it was the Crown Prince himself who ordered a few guards to imprison him there."

"And you are telling us this now?!" the queen snapped, fury blazing in her eyes.

"T-Those guards had finished their shift late last night," the knight stammered. "They only returned to their duties now."

"Bring me to that omega’s cell," the king ordered.

The queen sprang to her feet at once.

"Are you coming along, Queen?" Rudra asked, raising an eyebrow. "It isn’t a proper place for—"

"Keep quiet," she cut in coldly. "I will interrogate that gold digger myself." Her voice was firm, giving no chance for the king to argue.

***

Rihaan was granted a room of his own. At Soren’s request, it was placed on the same floor as his—in case Rihaan needed anything.

The Emperor could only sigh, exasperated by his son’s excessive kindness and thoughtfulness. He cast a brief glance toward the Empress, shaking his head in quiet disapproval.

A crown prince so gentle was easily manipulated, easily taken advantage of. It was a truth he had learned through blood and war. Yet he would never dare voice such thoughts aloud—not to his wife. She would wage war against him without hesitation.

To say it would mean admitting that Soren was acting more like an elf than a demon. Worse, it would imply that he had underestimated the strength of dark elves—and the Empress would take great pleasure in proving him wrong.

They were not the weak kind.

At the dinner table, no one spoke a word to each other. Only the sound of utensils clattering against the plates echoed in the quietness.

The long table, meant for a warm feast, felt utterly heavy and suffocating for the four people seated there.

Soren sat stiffly, posture impeccable, eyes flickering toward Rihaan more often than he realized.

The newly granted guest barely touched his food, shoulders tense, gaze lowered as though he were a criminal who would be executed at any moment.

Across from them, the Emperor ate, taking large bites, trying to eat as fast as he could to escape this awkwardness.

The Empress, however, watched the scene with a quiet frown, fingers curled around her goblet.

"This silence is quiet... unpleasant," she said at last, breaking the silence with her smooth voice. Yet, her tone was sharper than usual.

Soren stiffened immediately.

"I apologize, Mother," he mumbled, voice low.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have made such a request to the Emperor.

His mother’s gaze softened—just a little.

"I wasn’t speaking to you."

Rihaan stiffened, fingers tightening around his fork.

"The meal is... delicious, Your Majesty." He said, voice barely above a whisper but he was heard due to the utter silence in the dining hall.

"I know," she replied, studying him. "That is not what troubles me."

The Emperor set his cutlery down with deliberate care.

"Prince Rihaan," he said coolly, "you are a guest here. Just enjoy yourself before leaving."

The words that were meant to sound reassuring did not ease Rihaan at all. He lowered his head further.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Soren’s jaw tightened. He glanced at his father, then at Rihaan, as if analyzing his words.

"He has been through much," he said quietly. "A little patience would do no harm."

The Emperor’s gaze sharpened.

"And a little restraint," he replied, "would do you good, Crown Prince."

Soren lowered his gaze. He didn’t know what was wrong with him—speaking so rudely to his father. He had never done so.