[Lavinia’s POV — Imperial Carriage, Returning to the Palace]
The carriage rocked gently through the sleeping capital, wheels whispering against cobblestone. Moonlight stread through the glass, painting pale rivers across my lap.
Silence pressed close, broken only by the steady rhythm of hooves—Sir Haldor’s horse keeping perfect pace beside us.
I leaned back, eyes half-closed, letting the rhythm lull my anger into sothing colder. Outside, the city looked peaceful. Too peaceful. As if it hadn’t just watched its Crown Princess turn a ballroom into a battlefield.
Marshi purred softly at my feet, his tail flicking against my gown—a steady, comforting rhythm that matched the pulse of the carriage wheels. Even he could sense it.
The weight of what I’d done. The silence of an empire that now looked at with fear instead of reverence.
"Are you regretting it, my dear?" Papa’s voice cut through the quiet—smooth, low, unreadable.
He sat across from , one hand resting on his knee, the other tapping lightly against the armrest. His eyes glead faintly in the dim lantern light—molten gold, thoughtful and dangerous all at once.
I smiled faintly. "Why would I, Papa? I only reminded them what happens when they forget who rules them."
A slow smirk curved his mouth. "Good."
He leaned back, folding his hands. "Never regret anything, Lavinia. A ruler who hesitates loses twice—once to her enemies and once to her own doubt."
He watched closely, his tone turning deliberate, heavy with aning.
"You must have such confidence in yourself that no one dares to question it. You have every right to shake the empire, to raise the lowborn, to destroy the corrupt, and to rewrite law itself if you wish. The Empire will bend to your will if you never flinch."
His words filled the carriage like iron smoke, hot and consuming. Then he leaned forward slightly, his gaze softening—just a little. "No matter what happens, rember this: the Empire cos first. Not the nobles. Always."
The carriage rocked to a stop outside the palace gates.
I t his gaze and nodded once. "I understand, Papa."
He smiled—the kind that only appeared when he was proud of sothing he wouldn’t say aloud. "Of course you do. You are my daughter, after all."
The guards opened the doors. Cool air swept in, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked stone. Papa stepped out first, his cloak catching the wind like a dark banner, then turned and offered his hand to .
"Take rest for tonight," he said as I stepped down, his grip steady, grounding. "Tomorrow we’ll receive word from the ren border."
My heart stirred at the na. "And if the news isn’t good?"
His eyes glead with quiet amusent. "Then you already know what happens next."
I nodded once, pride burning in my chest. "If war cos, I will face it head-on, Papa. This ti, ren will bow before our banner."
His expression softened, a rare glint of warmth slipping through the mask of an emperor. "That’s my girl."
He brushed a thumb across my cheek—gentle, almost reverent—then pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"Sleep, my little storm," he murmured. "Tomorrow, the world will start whispering your na differently."
And with that, he turned and strode into the shadows of the palace, Ravick falling into step behind him—two silhouettes swallowed by the night.
I watched him go, the wind tugging at my gown, and whispered to the moon above, "Let them whisper."
Marshi trotted beside , tail flicking lazily, his golden fur glowing faintly in the torchlight.He let out a dramatic yawn that sounded far too judgntal for a divine beast.
I chuckled softly, reaching down to ruffle his fur. "What? Sleepy already?"
He purred, stretching like a cat who had seen too many empires rise and fall.
"Alright," I sighed fondly, "let’s go, then. You’ve earned your nap."
We turned toward my wing—the long, candlelit hallway echoing softly with our steps. I could almost feel the weight of the night shedding from my shoulders... until I heard it.
A footstep. Behind . asured. Heavy. Familiar.
I didn’t need to turn. "Sir Haldor?"
He halted imdiately, bowing his head slightly. "Yes, Your Highness."
I glanced back, half-amused. "You can rest now. The day’s over."
He straightened, his expression composed but voice firm. "But the night isn’t, Your Highness. I’ll stand guard until sunrise."
I arched a brow, lips curling faintly. "You plan to guard from the moon, then? "
He blinked once. "...If it poses a threat, yes."
I laughed—quietly, tiredly, but genuinely. "You’re impossible."
He said nothing, just stood there like a sentinel carved from shadow and loyalty. His armor caught the dim torchlight, gold trims glinting like quiet promises.
"Sir Haldor," I said at last, softer this ti, "tomorrow will be long. And I don’t want my captain yawning through strategy etings."
He opened his mouth to object—I could see it coming—so I cut him off gently. "That’s an order."
He hesitated, then bowed low. "As you command, Your Highness."
"Good." I smiled faintly. "Send soone else to take the post. I want you rested—not standing outside my door like a statue all night."
He looked up, and for just a second, his eyes softened—that quiet, unspoken loyalty glowing beneath the stoic mask. "Understood."
I waved a hand toward the hallway. "Then go, Captain. You’ve earned your rest tonight."
He inclined his head. "And you, Your Highness."
As I turned toward my chamber, I added, half over my shoulder, "See you tomorrow, Sir Haldor."
His voice followed, steady as always. "At sunrise, Your Highness."
Marshi flicked his tail, huffing softly as we stepped inside the Dawnspire Wing. The door closed behind us with a quiet click.
But as I laid my hand on the doorfra, I could feel him still—that presence, calm and watchful, lingering just beyond sight. The kind of loyalty that didn’t fade, even when dismissed.
And for the first ti that night, I didn’t feel entirely alone.
***
[Dawnspire Wing, Lavinia’s Chamber—Later]
The door closed behind with a soft thud, sealing away the long, exhausting chaos of the night.
I exhaled deeply and stretched my arms toward the ceiling, my spine popping like old wood."I can’t wait to bury myself under a blanket and pretend I don’t exist," I muttered.
Marshi, ever the traitor, was already ahead of . He’d rolled himself into a golden lump under the blanket, tail sticking out like a flag of victory.
"...Wow," I said flatly. "Must be nice being a divine beast with no political responsibilities."
He responded with a loud, smug purr. I began removing my earrings, my mind blissfully blank for the first ti all day—
"Your Highness!!"
The door burst open, nearly giving a heart attack.
Sera scurried inside like an overly caffeinated sparrow, her curls bouncing, her face glowing with the kind of excitent that should be illegal after midnight.
"Your Highness!" she gasped again, hands clasped dramatically.
I blinked. "Sera, unless the palace is on fire, this better be about dessert."
She ignored completely, practically vibrating. "How was it?! The grand ceremony? The nobles? The announcent?"
"...Which announcent?" I asked, already sensing doom.
Her grin widened, eyes sparkling like she’d just discovered the Empire’s best gossip. "Why, the engagent announcent, of course!"
I froze.
My mind went blank. Utterly. Absolutely blank.
"...Engagent," I repeated faintly.
"Yes!" Sera said, clasping her hands to her chest, sighing dreamily. "Tonight was the night His Grace, Grand Duke Osric, was supposed to announce your engagent in front of the entire court with him!"
My earring slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a small clink.
"...Was supposed to," I echoed weakly.
Sera frowned, finally realizing my expression had turned into sothing between "royal horror" and "existential crisis."
"Your Highness?"
I just... stared. "...We were supposed to be engaged. Today."
Marshi lifted his head from the blanket, blinked once, then tucked himself right back in. Traitorous furball.
I turned to Sera, panic rising. "WHY DIDN’T ANYONE REMIND ?!"
Sera blinked rapidly, startled. "Remind? What do you—?"
But I was already spiraling."Oh gods, Sera, I ruined my own engagent!" I wailed, collapsing dramatically to the floor as if the marble could swallow and spare the embarrassnt.
"I ruined it with my own hands—no, worse—my own temper!"
Sera froze in place. "...You didn’t."
I peeked up from the floor, hair half in my face. "I absolutely did."
Her jaw dropped. "Please tell you didn’t threaten the court again."
"...I exactly did that, Sera."
The silence that followed was so heavy even Marshi peeked out from the blanket.
Sera’s voice dropped to a whisper. "You... what... this ti?"
I groaned, sitting cross-legged on the floor like a guilty criminal. "I was angry. Too angry. I forgot my love, my engagent, my entire existence as a rational being and—" I threw my hands up helplessly. "— I held another man’s hand and walked out."
Her mouth fell open. "Another man’s hand?!"
I nodded miserably. "Yes. And then I may have... slightly... declared that the Captain of the Imperial Knights outranks every noble in the Empire."
Sera just stared at . No breathing. No blinking. Just pure, horrified stillness. "You what?"
"I promoted him," I said weakly. "Publicly. Loudly. In front of everyone."
Her hands slowly rose to cover her face. "Your Highness..."
"Yes?"
"For the love of all the gods in heaven," she said in a voice both reverent and despairing, "I am going to need a very long, very detailed explanation of what exactly happened at that coronation ceremony."
I sighed, collapsing backward with a groan as Marshi owed judgntally from the bed.
"Oh, Sera," I muttered to the ceiling. "Even I’m not sure anymore."
Reviews
All reviews (0)