The tension in the Imperial Palace reached its zenith in the hours following the court session centered on two important conversations: one in the Emperor's private study, and another on the open road back to the Marches.
The Empress found the Emperor in his Study, a massive room lined with maps and ancient scrolls. He looked up from a document, his expression impatient.
"My dear," he said, without preamble, "you should be preparing for the afternoon's diplomatic luncheon with the Sorverigen delegation. Is there an issue?"
The Empress did not sit. She stood before his enormous mahogany desk, regal and utterly composed.
"There is, husband. It concerns Vaelorian, and it concerns the Sorverigen treaty."
"If this is about his current ridiculous behavior, I will handle Vaelorian myself," the Emperor stated, his voice a low, warning rumble.
"It is precisely about his current behavior, but not in the way you think," the Empress countered, her voice firm but gentl. "I believe we have misdiagnosed the problem, my dear. Vaelorian did not suddenly become frivolous; he is intentionally, and quite expertly, running a campaign of self-sabotage."
The Emperor stared at her, skepticism giving way to a grudging interest. "Explain."
"Our son is intelligent, you know this. Everything he does is carefully calculated. His actions—the sudden absurd purchases, the disinterest in military matters—are all designed to make him look unstable and unsuitable," she explained, her narrative carefully framed in political terms. "He wants Lyra to demand an annulment. And he is succeeding. The whispers are louder than anything, Husband. Lyra's delegation is already questioning the Prince's fitness."
The Emperor leaned back, his fingers steepled under his chin, recognizing the political maneuvering. "Why? Why would he risk his reputation and succession just to avoid a match?"
"Because, Your Majesty," the Empress said, dropping the final, most crucial piece of the puzzle, "an emperor with a hidden weakness is a vulnerability to his empire. Vaelorian is deeply, passionately in love with someone else. A love he was forced to discard for this treaty. If Lyra marries him, and discovers this weakness, she gains a political knife to hold at his throat...and ultimately ours."
She pressed her advantage quickly. "A proud Princess like Lyra will not tolerate humiliation. If she feels betrayed by her husband, she will become a dangerous enemy upon annulment. We need a clean break. We need Lyra's family to step away without breaching the treaty. Vaelorian is providing us the perfect out: the Prince's incompetence."
"And the solution?" the Emperor asked, his eyes cold and analytical, completely devoid of sentimentality.
"We allow the façade to continue. We let Lyra demand the annulment, blaming Vaelorian's instability," the Empress concluded. "And when Vaelorian is free, we marry him to someone we we can trust. Someone who is stable, trained, and already deeply loyal to him. A consort we can control, who will ensure our son is happy, and that person is Lord Riven of House Ashbourne. The scandal of the Crown Prince loving a man is far less damaging than the scandal of the King being emotionally blackmailed by his foreign wife."
The Emperor was silent for a long, heavy moment. Finally, he gave a slow, reluctant nod. "Very well. Maintain the charade. But if war breaks out, you will answer for it."
The Empress bowed, a powerful political victory secured. "I understand, Your Majesty. As long as this marriage does not happen."
Miles away, the Ashbourne carriage rolled steadily toward the Marches. Riven and Barron were finally able to discuss the events of the last twelve hours without fear of spies.
"So, to summarize," Barron began, leaning back against the plush seats, "the Princess is actively trying to help Vaelorian sabotage his own wedding, and his mother knows everything and is now plotting to use your relationship as a tool for political stability?"
"Essentially, yes," Riven confirmed, running a hand over his tired face. "It's insane, Barron. It's truly, spectacularly insane. I never dreamt of this kind of drama when I came here."
"This is related to the imperial Palace, Riven there's always drama." Barron scoffed. "And I have to say, the Empress is brilliant. She turned a potential royal scandal into a new political strategy in twenty-four hours. So, what's our role in all of this? You accepted his apology; you know he's fighting for you now. We can't just run back to the manor and wait things out."
Riven looked out the window at the passing fields, his eyes alight with a newfound, focused energy.
"No. We're not waiting things out. Vaelorian has his part to play—the political saboteur. We have to strengthen ourselves too."
"How? Our Lordship?" Barron asked.
"Exactly. Vaelorian said he would do anything, including stepping down as the future emperor for me," Riven said, his voice and retrospective. "But he shouldn't have to be the only proving himself in this relationship. If I want to stand beside a future Emperor, I need to be more than just a lovesick Lord who manages my family fields. I need to be a political asset."
He turned to Barron, his eyes blazing. "You're a Knight now, Barron. You're also my best friend and advisor. With your help I've managed the manor since we left camp, but we can't do only that anymore; we need to run a business that even the Crown will come to envy."
"What are you saying, Riven?" Barron gave him a skeptical look and Riven continued.
"We need to maximize our resources, stabilize our region, and make ourselves indispensable. That way, we'll be the most stable, most functional, most productive Lords in the Empire. When Vaelorian succeeds, his father won't see me as just a boy fooling around with his son, he'll see a powerful Lord who brings immense stability to the Crown and empire."
Barron grinned, the thrill of the new political game invigorating him. "I think I get it now. So, less about the crop taxes, more about creating a model Lordship that can't be dismissed by the Emperor himself?"
"Precisely!" Riven affirmed. "We're going to divide and conquer. Vaelorian will take the Capital. We'll take the Marches. We are going to make our loyalty and our competence the one thing the Emperor cannot afford to lose."