Chapter 142: Qazaethel Found Out What Happened To The Golden Rabbit

Qazaethel sat on her throne, the weight of the morning already pressing down on her shoulders like a physical thing. She had not slept well the night before—she rarely did anymore—and the endless parade of reports and petitions and problems had begun before the sun had even fully risen.

The throne room was quieter now than it had been hours ago, the last of the morning’s petitioners having been dismissed, and she had allowed herself a moment of stillness, a brief pause to gather herself before the next crisis demanded her attention.

She heard the familiar footsteps before she saw the figure they belonged to, and she let out a slow breath, steeling herself for whatever news was about to be delivered. "What brings you here, Liv?" Qazaethel asked, slowly sitting down on the throne and landing her gaze on Liv’s figure.

Qazaethel could tell from the set of her jaw that something serious had happened.

Liv’s hand resting on the hilt of her sword as always. When she straightened, her expression was grim, her eyes hard with anger barely contained. "Your majesty, the church did something unforgivable."

Qazaethel paused for a moment, her fingers are tightening on the armrest of the throne. The church. Of course it was the church. They had been a thorn in her side for months now, their influence spreading like a rot through the kingdom, their priests growing bolder with each passing day.

She had known something like this was coming. She had felt it in her bones. But she had not expected it to happen so soon. "What happened?" she asked, her voice carefully controlled.

"They locked the golden rabbit in a room. Naked, with only a small towel covering her front while leaving her back and bottom exposed, and she is in heat," Liv reported, her voice flat and precise, as though she were delivering a military report rather than describing an atrocity.

Qazaethel’s face turned lethal. The words hit her like a slap, and for a moment, she could not speak, could not breathe, could not think past the rage that surged through her veins like fire. The golden rabbit.

The sacred omega, the blessed one, the woman who had brought prosperity and protection to their kingdom from the moment she had arrived. The church had dared to lay hands on her. The church had dared to humiliate her, to endanger her, to treat her like she was nothing more than a toy to be used and discarded.

"How come the church committed such a heinous crime?!" Qazaethel slammed her hand on the armrest, the sound echoing through the empty throne room. "And not to anyone else, but to the golden rabbit!" She was clearly angry that this had occurred, her voice rising with each word, her eyes blazing with fury.

Liv did not flinch at the outburst. She had served Qazaethel long enough to know that this anger was not directed at her. "The priests claimed they were following divine orders, your majesty. They said the golden rabbit needed to be purified, that her heat was a sign from the gods that she was ready to be claimed by the church."

Qazaethel’s hands curled into fists, her nails biting into her palms. "Divine orders," she repeated, her voice dripping with contempt. "They dare to invoke the gods for their depravity? They dare to use the sacred place to hurt anyone, and they do it to a golden rabbit?" She stood up from the throne, unable to remain still any longer, and began to pace across the dais.

"How do you explain this to the three supreme Gods? The golden rabbit had given us endless blessings the moment she came here, and we repaid her like that?! That is outrageous, Liv!"

Liv nodded, her expression grim. "I agree, your majesty. The golden rabbit has done nothing but good for this kingdom since her arrival. To treat her with such disrespect is an insult not only to her but to the gods themselves."

Qazaethel stopped pacing and turned to face Liv, her eyes sharp and demanding. "Where is the golden rabbit?!"

"In the royal infirmary. She was resting there, and Prime Minister Arielle was clearly furious. She was the one who discovered what they did to the golden rabbit," Liv said.

Qazaethel thought of Arielle, the prime minister’s fierce protectiveness of the golden rabbit, the way she had dedicated herself to ensuring the omega’s safety and comfort. If Arielle was furious, then the situation was even more serious than Qazaethel had initially thought.

Arielle was not a woman who lost her temper easily, but when she did, it was a sight to behold. "I want to check on the golden rabbit. If something happens to her before the saint shows up, we might risk displeasing the saint." Qazaethel said, and Liv nodded.

"Yes, your majesty. What shall I do?" Liv asked, her hand still resting on the hilt of her sword, ready to carry out whatever orders she was given.

Qazaethel did not hesitate. "Carry out an investigation and arrest everyone in the church."

Liv’s brow furrowed slightly, but she did not immediately object. Instead, she chose her words carefully. "I already carried out an investigation, but arresting everyone might cause public tension, your majesty. The church has many followers, and they will not take kindly to seeing their priests dragged away in chains."

Qazaethel shook her head, her expression hard and unyielding. "It doesn’t matter. I no longer give a damn about the church as they’re using the sacred place to hurt anyone, and they dare do it to a golden rabbit." She paused, her voice dropping to something quieter but no less dangerous.

"Do you understand what this means, Liv? If the gods decide to withdraw their favor because of what happened here, this kingdom will suffer. Crops will fail, the harvest will be poor, and the people will starve. The golden rabbit is our blessing, our protection, and the church treated her like she was nothing. That is not something I can overlook."

Liv nodded in agreement, her own anger reflected in her eyes. "I understand, your majesty. The golden rabbit has done nothing to deserve such treatment, and the church has overstepped its bounds. They have become too bold, too confident in their own power."

"And they will learn that their power means nothing in the face of mine," Qazaethel said, her voice cold and final. "So carry out my orders. Find out who did this, and you know what punishment awaits them."

Liv bowed deeply, her expression one of grim determination. "Yes, I understand, your majesty. I shall carry out the orders now." She turned on her heel and walked out of the throne room, her footsteps echoing against the marble floor until the heavy doors closed behind her, and Qazaethel was left alone.

She stood in the center of the throne room, her hands clasped behind her back, and she thought about the endless stress she was facing when this was only the beginning of her day. The church. The priests. The investigation. The golden rabbit. The saint. It was all too much, too many problems piling up on top of each other, and she had barely had time to breathe since she had woken up.

She thought of the golden rabbit, of the quiet omega who had come to their kingdom with nothing but a gentle smile and a willingness to help. She thought of the way the omega had blessed their fields, had healed their sick, had brought a sense of peace and prosperity that the kingdom had not known in years. And she thought of the church, of the priests who had taken that blessing and twisted it into something ugly and cruel.

The church had been a problem for years, its influence growing unchecked while the previous sovereigns turned a blind eye. They had accumulated wealth and power, had built grand cathedrals and appointed themselves as the intermediaries between the gods and the people.

And somewhere along the way, they had forgotten their purpose. They had forgotten that their duty was to serve, not to rule. They had forgotten that the gods did not demand cruelty and humiliation, but kindness and compassion.

Qazaethel had known this for a long time. She had seen the corruption, the greed, the arrogance, but she had held back, had chosen diplomacy over confrontation. She had hoped that the church would see reason, would reform itself from within, would remember its sacred vows. But those hopes had been naive, and now the church had gone too far. They had hurt someone under her protection, someone who was sacred to the gods themselves, and Qazaethel would not let that go unpunished.

She walked slowly back to her throne and sat down, her body aching with exhaustion. The crown felt heavier than usual, the weight of the kingdom pressing down on her shoulders like a physical burden. She thought of her mother, rotting in the dungeons, and she felt a pang of something that might have been guilt or might have been grief.

She thought of the golden rabbit, frightened and humiliated, resting in the royal infirmary while Arielle stood guard over her.

There was so much to do, so many problems to solve, so many people who depended on her to protect them. And yet, in this moment, all she wanted was to close her eyes and sleep for a year. But she could not. She was the sovereign, and the sovereign did not have the luxury of rest.

She rang the small bell beside her throne, summoning a servant. "Bring me a cup of tea," she said, "and send word to the royal infirmary that I will be visiting shortly. I want to see the golden rabbit for myself."

The servant bowed and hurried away, leaving Qazaethel alone with her thoughts once more. She thought of the saint, of the mysterious figure who was said to be coming to their kingdom, and she wondered what kind of person could inspire such devotion, such loyalty. The golden rabbit was clearly important to the saint, and if the saint arrived to find the omega harmed or traumatized, the consequences could be severe.

Qazaethel had worked too hard, had sacrificed too much, to let everything fall apart now. She had built alliances, had strengthened the kingdom’s defenses, had done everything in her power to ensure that her people were safe and prosperous.

And she would not let the church destroy that. She would not let them hurt the golden rabbit, would not let them threaten the saint’s goodwill, would not let them undermine everything she had worked for.

The servant returned with a cup of tea, and Qazaethel accepted it with a murmured thanks. She took a sip, letting the warmth spread through her chest, and she allowed herself a moment of quiet before the next crisis demanded her attention.

She thought of Liv, of the way the General had stood before her with unwavering loyalty, ready to carry out whatever orders she was given. Liv had been with her since they were children, had stood by her through every trial and tribulation, and Qazaethel knew that she could trust Liv with her life. If anyone could get to the bottom of what had happened in the church, it was Liv.

She thought of Arielle, of the prime minister’s fierce protectiveness of the golden rabbit. Arielle was not just a competent administrator; she was a woman who cared deeply about the people she was responsible for, and her anger at what had happened to the golden rabbit was a testament to that.

Qazaethel would need to speak with Arielle, would need to reassure her that justice would be served, and would need to make sure that the golden rabbit was given whatever she needed to recover.

And she thought of the golden rabbit herself, of the omega who had brought so much good to their kingdom, and she felt a swell of protectiveness that surprised her with its intensity. The golden rabbit was not just a symbol or a blessing; she was a person, a kind and gentle person who had done nothing to deserve the cruelty she had experienced. And Qazaethel would make sure that she was safe, no matter what it took.

She finished her tea and set the cup aside, rising from her throne. It was time to visit the golden rabbit, to see for herself that the omega was safe and being cared for. She would go to the royal infirmary, would speak with Arielle, would make sure that everything that could be done was being done.

And then she would turn her attention to the church, to the investigation that Liv was conducting, and she would make sure that the guilty parties were punished to the fullest extent of the law.