— In the Chamber
The chamber doors shut with a quiet but firm thud as the last council member exited. The air hung thick with tension—still charged from the earlier exchange. Only three remained.
Chris.
Amara.
Classic.
The silence was sharp.
Chris stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the ancient map of the Blackwood Empire etched in obsidian on the wall. The same wall his father once stood before when making decisions that shook the world. Now, it was his turn to make the echoes.
Amara sat cross-legged on the imperial seat just below Chris', fingers tracing the edges of the armrest, her expression unreadable—calculating. Eyes never leaving Classic.
Classic stood, hands in his coat pockets, shoulders straight, refusing to break eye contact with his father.
Chris finally spoke, voice cold but calm. "You questioned me in front of the council."
"I asked a question, not raised a rebellion," Classic replied. "Requesting five million B.A.M just like that… it's not a small number. It deserves a conversation."
Amara leaned forward. "You dare to call my authority into question?"
Classic turned toward her with a half-smile. "I questioned the math, not your authority."
Chris slowly turned, eyes now fixed on both of them. "I don't care who's right. But I care about unity. We bleed together or we fall apart—this empire is too big to tolerate cracks in the family."
Classic exhaled. "Then talk to us, Dad. Let us be part of the plan, not spectators to it."
Amara rose from the seat. Her voice was softer now, but sharper. "Plans that involve military decisions are not group therapy sessions."
Classic stepped forward, lowering his voice to avoid triggering another argument. "And when those military decisions affect the people? When they risk provoking unrest or fear? Then it's not just strategy—it's leadership."
Chris held up his hand. Silence again.
Then he stepped down, past Amara, past Classic, and placed both hands on the central table.
"I will approve the five million soldiers. But only after I get your full support," he said. "From both of you."
He looked Amara in the eye first.
"I've trusted you with my life. And my heart. You've never failed me."
Then he turned to Classic.
"You're my son. And you've earned your own weight in this empire. But if you're going to stand beside me, not behind me, I need more than boldness—I need loyalty. Even when it's inconvenient."
Classic nodded. "Then let me prove it."
Amara looked between them, tension easing just slightly, though her grip on the table never loosened.
Chris gave one nod. "Good. Then we move forward—as one."
He turned to leave, but paused at the threshold.
"One more thing," he said without looking back. "From now on, no more debates in front of the council. If you have doubts, bring them here—in this chamber. Not out there."
The door closed behind him.
Leaving Amara and Classic in the thick silence again. No anger this time. Just awareness.
Both powerful.
Both watching.
Both wondering how long this fragile triangle could last.
—