After Rebirth, I Refused the Cruel Alpha and Married the Dead Alpha King

Kelli Nelson POV:

A collective murmur of scandalized excitement ran through the assembled nobles.

Serena let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I knew it! A scheming little Wolfless snake! She threw herself at Demonte in secret, and now that she realizes she has to share him, she puts on this pathetic display of false virtue!"

Baylee lowered her handkerchief, a tiny, venomous smile tugging at the corners of her lips before she quickly masked it with sorrow. "Kelli... if you had only told me you wanted him entirely to yourself, I would have stepped aside. Why must you humiliate us all like this?"

I stood up slowly from the cold floor. I didn't rush. I didn't scream.

I walked toward Demonte, stopping three paces away. The faint, rancid scent of his cheap musk and foul ambition made my skin crawl, but my expression remained sorrowful and serene.

"Lord Demonte," I said softly, tilting my head. "Are you absolutely certain that handkerchief was given to you as a pledge of love?"

Demonte sneered, leaning in slightly so only I could see the malicious gleam in his eyes. "Do not try to wiggle out of this, Kelli. You gave it to my servant at the city gates. The Nelson silver embroidery is unmistakable."

"Then let the court examine it," I replied, turning to the throne. "Your Majesty, since Lord Demonte claims this is proof of an illicit romance between us, I beg the royal herald to inspect the cloth. Let the truth be spoken under the light of the sacred moon."

The Alpha King gestured with two fingers. "Bring it forward."

A royal attendant stepped down from the dais, holding a polished silver tray.

Demonte tossed the silk square onto the tray with smug confidence, believing he had backed me into an inescapable corner.

As the attendant carried the tray past the front row of nobles, Serena reached out and snatched the handkerchief. "Allow me, Uncle! I shall read the shameful verses she undoubtedly stitched for her lover!"

Karson sat back in his chair, taking a slow sip of freshly poured wine, looking at me as if I were already a crushed insect beneath his boot.

Serena unfolded the delicate silk with an exaggerated flourish. "Let us see what sweet, desperate words our tragic orphan wrote—"

Her voice abruptly died in her throat.

The smug grin on Serena's face froze, then shattered into a mask of pure disbelief. Her fingers clenched the edges of the silk so tightly that the fabric strained.

"Well, Serena?" the King prompted, his voice laced with growing impatience. "Read it."

Serena swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. She looked frantically from the handkerchief to Demonte, and then to Karson, her face draining of all color.

"I... I..." Serena stammered, backing away.

"What is the matter, Lady Serena?" I asked, taking a calm step forward. "Did you find my name on it? Or perhaps you found the secret oath of eternal devotion?"

"Silence!" the Dowager Luna commanded, striking her silver-topped cane against the stone platform. The sound cracked like thunder. "Herald, take the cloth from her hands and read the inscription embroidered within the silver wolf-head pattern!"

The herald swiftly retrieved the handkerchief from the paralyzed Serena. He held it up to the candlelight, squinting at the micro-embroidery woven into the corner of the crest.

Then, the herald's eyes went wide. He dropped to one knee before the King.

"Your Majesty... the embroidery does not bear Lord Demonte's name."

Demonte flinched. "What? That is impossible!"

"Read the name aloud, Herald," the King ordered coldly.

The herald cleared his throat, his voice carrying clearly to every ear in the room:

"To the Unconquered Blade of Silvermoon, Lord Edward Wiley. May your spirit rest in the embrace of the Moon Goddess."

A chilling silence descended upon the grand hall.

I looked at Demonte, whose face was now the color of curdled milk.

"That handkerchief was a funerary offering I spent three months sewing for the late heir," I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a frozen dagger. "Lord Demonte stole it from my family's memorial altar. And now, he stands before the King, brandishing his dead brother's funeral shroud as a trophy of conquest."