" So that is why, " Myrrh thought, the pieces clicking into place. " He must be Queen Astoria's father. " Her pulse quickened, equal parts alarm and clarity.
" Do not worry, Father, " Queen Astoria said, her voice steady. " I have a plan. "
" What plan, Astoria? " the younger noble man demanded.
" I will use the second child of the late first Empress, " Queen Astoria said, her voice low and measured. " Princess Myrrh Celestia. Empress Miliani Yaria is quick-tempered-with that child. And because of that child, Miliani showed her arrogance in front of the emperor. " The sentence fell between them like a carefully placed blade, intent and inevitable.
Upon hearing Queen Astoria's words, a flicker of amusement stirred within Myrrh.
" So, you intend to use me for your ambition, " she mused silently, her expression calm but her thoughts edged with laughter. " I'll admit, you have wit, Queen Astoria-but you're mistaken. You too will walk straight into the snare you've set. "
Her smile faded as she leaned closer, peering through a narrow gap in the door. But before she could see inside, a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth from behind.
* * *
A week passed the High Councilors and Ministers moved swiftly through the marble corridors, their robes whispering against the polished floor as they made their way toward the throne room. The sudden summons from Empress Miliani-and the troubling news that had preceded it-left little room for hesitation.
" Duke Maevor, " said a voice beside him, low but edged with unease. It was the not-so-old Marquis Otharen, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone. " Tell me-what we've read in the papers... is it true? That the Emperor has taken ill in the mind? " Duke Caelor Maevor halted mid-stride, his expression unreadable beneath the dim light of the corridor's sconces.
" That is nothing but an idle rumor, " he replied firmly. " His Majesty is in perfect health, Marquis. Best not lend credence to the gossip of restless tongues. "
Without waiting for a response, he resumed his pace, his stride long and purposeful. The others followed in silence, the only sound the muted thud of boots and the soft rustle of fabric.
At last, they reached the grand double doors of the throne room, towering and ornate, flanked by royal knights standing in rigid formation. Duke Maevor did not glance their way; his voice carried with quiet authority.
" Inform them that the Councilors and Ministers have arrived. " At once, the knights bowed and pushed open the great doors. The deep groan of iron hinges filled the vast chamber, followed by the clear voice of one knight who stepped forward to make the formal announcement.
" The nobles of the Vailenor Empire have arrived! "
He began his recitation, his voice steady and measured, echoing through the hall:
" First High Councilor of Vailenor-Grand Duke Louis Zion Luciania, second only to His Imperial Majesty in noble rank, and brother-in-law to the Emperor.
Second High Councilor-Grand Duke Caelor Maevor, known as the Iron Pillar of the North, Lord of the Duchy of Maevor.
Third High Councilor-Grand Duke Arvenior Arqadeth, Lord of the Duchy of Arqadeth. "
The knight's voice carried across the throne room, reverberating against the high vaults and marble columns as the names of the Empire's highest lords resounded through the air.
Upon entering the throne room, Grand Duke Maevor immediately noticed several members of the Queen's faction positioned discreetly along the side walls. Yet the Empress herself was absent-and so was her father, Fourth High Grand Duke Orven Lunovar. Their empty places lent a faint unease to the already tense chamber.
A number of Minister-nobles turned toward the arriving Councilors, offering courteous bows marked by restraint and formality. Maevor returned their gesture with a simple nod, neither inviting conversation nor discouraging it.
The three High Grand Dukes proceeded to their designated positions on the right side of the dais. Standing beside Maevor was Grand Duke Louis Zion Luciania, silent and unreadable, his attention directed toward the Emperor's vacant throne. His gaze held no agitation, only a steady, emotionless composure that revealed nothing of his thoughts.
Maevor cleared his throat, a soft but deliberate sound that broke the stillness between them. At once, Grand Duke Luciania, who had been quietly standing, turned his head toward him, his expression calm.
Duke Maevor drew breath to speak, but Grand Duke Luciania spoke before he could.
" What do you suppose prompted the Empress to summon the Councilors and Ministers so suddenly, Grand Duke Maevor? And why were her faction already assembled before our arrival? " His tone remained flat and uncolored, the words delivered with the same directness he was known for-precise, unadorned, and without the slightest attempt at courtesy.
A faint smile crossed Maevor's lips at the question.
" In my view, Grand Duke Lucian, we are already of the same mind, " Maevor replied evenly. " There is no great mystery behind the Regent Empress's summons. " He allowed his gaze to drift to the Emperor's empty throne, studying it for a moment before looking back at Grand Duke Luciania. The corner of his mouth lifted into a subtle, knowing smirk.
Several minutes passed, and the murmurs of the nobles gradually died down as the massive doors of the throne room swung open. The Chamberlain entered, his steps echoing on the marble floor, and stopped to the left, where the Empress's supporters were gathered. Clearing his throat, he announced in a commanding voice:
" Stand in courtesy to Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress, and to His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince. "
They entered. The high councilors noted the elegance of their matching attire, while Grand Duke Maevor's frown deepened-though he quickly regained his composure.
Empress Miliani appeared in a striking gown of black and deep crimson. The bodice, crafted from dark lace, shimmered with scattered red gemstones, while layers of black tulle flowed over a rich crimson skirt. Her auburn hair was swept into an elegant updo, and the gown's intricate embroidery in gold and obsidian lent her an air of solemn authority.
Beside her, Crown Prince Casimir followed, dressed in a formal coat of navy and wine red, with fine gold embroidery tracing the edges. His light-blonde hair and greenish-blue eyes mirrored his mother's. A crimson cloak lined with dark fur draped over his shoulders, fastened with a silver-and-pearl brooch. White trousers, black gloves, marking him as a poised and regal heir.
Grand Duke Maevor's eyes caught Grand Duke Orven Lunovar, the Empress's father, walking proudly on her left side, his head held high as if basking in his daughter's glory. As the three walked, Grand Duke Louis Zion Luciania subtly shook his head-a gesture that did not escape Maevor's notice.
When they reached the center of the throne room, Empress Miliani gracefully took the Emperor's throne instead of Her Empress's throne, while Crown Prince Casimir assumed his designated seat. With a subtle gesture, the Empress hand signaled for a courtesy bow. Her supporters immediately complied, lowering themselves with perfect precision.
Across the hall, the other factions of the High Grand Dukes exchanged glances, hesitation flickering in their eyes. Empress Miliani met the silent defiance with an unshakable composure, her expression betraying no emotion as she held her ground.
Empress Miliani cast the High Grand Dukes and their factions an unwavering, emotionless gaze, for she knew in her heart where their true loyalties lay-whether to the Emperor or to their own ambitions.
Empress Miliani turned her gaze toward her factions, but several she had sent secret letters to were conspicuously absent, despite her careful summons. The missing nobles were from the Lunovar and Vailenor families, each holding significant connections across the continents-a fact that did not escape Grand Duke Orven Lunovar. He met his daughter's eyes, and she returned his look with quiet questioning, silently asking why those she had deemed most important had not appeared.
A heavy silence settled over the throne room. Crown Prince Casimir exhaled softly, and Miliani turned to him, recognizing the unspoken cue: the nobles awaited their sovereign's words. With measured composure, she offered a polite, restrained gritted smile and began to address the assembly.
" As you can see, the Emperor's condition is still unstable, and he finds it difficult even to move, " she paused, letting her gaze sweep over the High Grand Dukes and ministerial nobles. " I am also aware of the rumors spreading beyond the palace walls. I do not know who among the higher-ups leaked the information, but... every word is true, " she said, sorrow threading her voice.
" High Grand Duke Maevor can attest-he was with me that day. Our Emperor... he is losing his mind. "
A tense hush followed. The ministers, who had been listening quietly, were suddenly overtaken by a ripple of murmurs, their whispers filling the chamber. The High Councilors and Grand Dukes, however, remained motionless, their faces carefully unreadable as their eyes never left the Empress. Grand Duke Maevor, especially, could not conceal the tightening of his jaw, a subtle sign of the unease simmering beneath his composed exterior.
The murmurs in the hall drew her eyes to the Chief Chamberlain. With a subtle nod, she signaled him, and he moved without hesitation.
" Silence! " his commanding voice echoed through the chamber, immediately silencing the nobles. All eyes returned to the Empress.
" A lot happened over the past month during the emperor's absence, " she began, her voice measured and resolute. " I have received word from His Majesty's personal physician: the Emperor will no longer be able to walk or oversee the affairs of the Vailenor Empire. I realize my summons may have taken you by surprise, yet I am grateful for your presence. "
" As your Empress and Regent, I speak with the Emperor's blessing: the throne shall pass to our son, Crown Prince Casimir Casmu Y Vailenor. This is the Emperor's decree. "
The throne room fell into a tense, almost suffocating silence. The ministers and lesser nobles shifted in their gaze, exchanging quick, uncertain glances. Whispers rippled through the assembly like a gathering storm, though none dared speak aloud.
Then, a hand rose. It was the First High Councilor of Vailenor, Grand Duke Louis Zion Luciania.
" May I speak, Your Majesty, the Empress? " he asked, his tone serious, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Empress Miliani.
The Empress swallowed softly, then lifted her hand in acknowledgment, granting him permission.
" You may speak, First High Councilor, " she said, her voice calm and measured, betraying none of the tension that rippled through the hall.
" It is not my intention to oppose the Emperor's decree, " the Grand Duke continued, his voice steady and calm, carrying the weight of authority. " But can we be certain this is truly the Emperor's command? We are the four High Councilors and Grand Dukes of the Vailenor Empire-we ought to hear the decree from His Majesty himself. " He said.
" Pardon me, Your Majesty the Empress," he added, meeting her gaze directly, "but we have never received the Emperor's decree, not even in letters. " There was no flourish, no attempt at rhetoric-only measured, serious words delivered with the quiet gravity of a man who understood both protocol and the precarious balance of power.
The Empress's eyes met the First High Councilor's, calm yet sharp, as if weighing every word before responding. The hush in the Throne hall deepened.
" You speak with respect, as is proper, " Empress Miliani said, her voice steady and measured. " And your concern for the Emperor's authority is understood. Yet I assure you, this decree comes directly from His Majesty, given in trust to me as his Empress and Regent. " She paused, letting the weight of her words settle over the assembly.
Her gaze swept over each High Grand Duke, and ministers nobles the subtle shifts-the tightening of a jaw, the narrowing of eyes, the slight move in their bodies. Every gesture was a measure of their thought, their loyalty, their ambition.
" The Emperor's personal physician has confirmed his inability to govern, and I carry his blessing to enact this decision, " she continued, her tone unwavering. " This is not a matter of preference or factional gain. It is the Emperor's will, and it is the stability of the Empire that guides the order. "
A moment of tense silence passed before Grand Duke Maevor finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.
" Your Majesty, " he began, " we acknowledge the Emperor's condition and your authority as Regent. Yet, as one of the High Grand Dukes entrusted with the governance of the Empire, I must express caution. The absence of Two Grand Dukes and several key nobles leaves a question in the minds of many: how can we be certain the Empire's stability will endure if decisions are made without their counsel? "
A faint murmur stirred through the ministers, but the High Grand Dukes remained still, their faces impassive. Empress Miliani's eyes met Maevor's, unflinching. She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging his words but not conceding authority.
The Grand Duke of Arqadeth, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice carrying firm authority.
" With all due respect, Your Majesty, " he began, emphasizing each word, " while the Emperor's blessing may be clear-or perhaps... unclear " -his eyes flicked briefly to Grand Duke Orven Lunovar as he emphasized the word "unclear" " should the announcement of succession not have come directly from His Majesty himself? These proceedings feel sudden, even hasty. " After he said those words. He looked at the High councilor-Grand dukes and ministers nobles.
" If what the Empress Regent states is true, that the Emperor can no longer govern and is... losing his mind, is there irrefutable proof? From what I understand, the Holy Emperor remains fully capable of writing and issuing decrees. It is his mobility that is impaired, not his mind-or the faculties most essential to rule. "
Empress Miliani met his gaze steadily. There was a sharpness in his tone-a mixture of scrutiny, challenge, and a subtle teasing-yet she did not falter.
" High Councilor - Grand Duke of Arqadeth, " she began, her tone polite yet unyielding, " your observations are noted, and your caution is understood. Yet the Emperor's condition is not merely a matter of legs or mobility-it is a matter of mind, will, and the capacity to govern an empire as vast and delicate as Vailenor. " Her eyes swept the Throne hall, briefly meeting each High Grand Duke in turn, letting them feel the authority in her steady gaze.
" The Emperor himself entrusted this matter to me. He recognized that the Empire cannot wait, that indecision risks greater peril than any haste in action. His blessing, given to me as Empress and Regent, is sufficient for the legitimacy of this decision. " She paused, letting her words sink in, and then added, her voice softening just slightly but remaining resolute,
" Doubt, Grand Duke, is natural, but it must not obstruct the stability of the empire. The Empire's welfare comes before the pride or hesitation of any one councilor. " After speaking, Empress Miliani adjusted her posture on the throne, shifting slightly as she tightened her grip on the armrest.
As Empress Miliani composed herself, hidden from the eyes of the councilors and ministerial nobles, she caught a faint smirk-and immediately recognized its owner: the Emperor's brother-in-law, Grand Duke Louis Zion Luciania.
He straightened, the smirk fading into a mocking expression as he repeated her words, his voice deliberately carrying across the chamber.
" His blessing, given to me as Empress and Regent, is sufficient for the legitimacy of this decision, " he echoed, emphasizing her words with a tone heavy with derision.
Empress Miliani met his gaze steadily, unflinching. Yet the chamber could hear every inflection of the challenge in his words:
" I beg to disagree, Your Majesty the Empress. You may be Regent and the mother of the Crown Prince, but your authority is limited. You lead only in the Emperor's absence. Only the Emperor himself may pass the throne. You may hold over this decision only when the Holy Emperor breathes his last. But he is very much alive-and shall remain so. " A ripple of tension moved through the room. Ministers stiffened, whispers began and died under the weight of the Empress's watchful eyes. Even the High Grand Dukes shifted subtly, sensing the thinly veiled challenge posed by the Emperor's brother-in-law. The atmosphere is crackled with unspoken rivalry, the weight of authority, and the fragile balance between loyalty, ambition, and power.
Upon hearing the Grand Duke's ruthless words, Empress Miliani gave a small, measured nod, acknowledging his challenge in front of the chamber. Yet beneath her calm exterior, a flicker of anger surged-sharp and private-directed at the Emperor's brother-in-law. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the armrest, her jaw pressing just enough to betray the quiet storm brewing within her.
Though no one else could see it, her eyes held a controlled fire.
Casimir could feel the shift in the chamber-the restrained tension from the High Councilors, the Dukes, and the ministers as their remarks pressed harder against his mother. Every word spoken against her authority struck him like a blow. He wanted desperately to answer, to defend her, but he remembered his mother's strict warning: no matter what you hear, you must not speak.
His gaze drifted to his mother. Empress Miliani had inclined her head to acknowledge Grand Duke Luciania's words, her expression composed, revealing nothing of the sting behind them. But Casimir saw the way her fingers curled faintly against the armrest, the only sign of her restraint.
With controlled grace, she rose from the Emperor's throne. Her movements were neither hurried nor hesitant-simply the poised authority of a regent whose legitimacy had been called into question. The nobles straightened, the murmurs fading. All eyes fixed on her as she prepared to answer her uncle's challenge.
Empress Miliani drew breath to speak, but the sudden thunder of the Great Doors bursting open silenced the entire throne room. Every head turned as the Emperor's Butler-Chief Chamberlain of the Imperial Palace-strode forward with sharp, deliberate steps. His expression was grave, his pace unwavering.
He advanced to the center of the hall, stopped before the Empress, and bowed deeply in formal courtesy. When he straightened, his voice rang out with commanding clarity:
" Lower your gaze and show courtesy.
His Imperial Majesty, the Holy Emperor Castillion Casmu y Vailenor, approaches.
To his right, Her Imperial Highness, Arc Princess Myrrh Celestia y Seredane - Vailenor. To his left, Lord Albrecht Ciuz Zenodoros, High Justiciar of Vailenor.
All present shall offer due submission. "
The proclamation thundered through the Throne Hall, silencing every whisper, every breath.
As the great doors swung open, Empress Miliani's eyes widened—shock, terror, fear, and denial crashing through her all at once.
There he was.
Emperor Castillion stood tall at the threshold, framed by the towering doors. He moved forward, not carried, not supported—walking on his own strength. A polished cane rested in his right hand to keep his balance, but his posture was regal, unbroken, as if he had never been touched by weakness at all.
To be continued....