[Cassius Devereux’s POV—Imperial Palace of Eloria—Throne Room]
The council droned on.
Trade routes. Salt exports. Borders. Endless words.
I sat on the imperial throne—spine straight, fingers resting against carved obsidian armrests—yet my thoughts were not on the hall.
They were five days away.
On a battlefield.
On my daughter.
Theon cleared his throat, continuing his report as if the fate of the continent depended on it:
"If the Princess secures ren, Your Majesty, Eloria will beco the largest exporter of salt. Their mines are deep and untouched—"
Regis interrupted, nodding eagerly. "And their coasts are rich, Your Majesty. Fish, dicinal algae, rare pearls—ren’s seas could expand our economy tenfold."
I didn’t answer.
Not imdiately. My gaze drifted to Regis—old friend, loyal retainer, cautious as ever. After he learned that our children had broken their engagent... he didn’t rage, didn’t curse, and didn’t try to defend his son.
He rely smiled—soft, tired, almost relieved—and said, "I suppose... my son was not capable of standing beside her."
A simple sentence. But one spoken with acceptance, humility, and a father’s quiet understanding of his child’s limits.
Even now, as he stood by my side in this hall, I saw no bitterness on his face. Only respect—for Lavinia... and for the path she carved with her own hands.
But my mind was already far from these gilded walls.
Five days.
Five days since I last received a letter from my daughter. And the last one... The last one was rely:
"I have ended my everything with Osric. I do not expect reconciliation."
That was all. Cold. Detached. Blunt.
So very... Lavinia.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose with two fingers.
"She has inherited too much of ," I muttered under my breath.
Regis straightened. "Your Majesty?"
I finally leaned back, resting my elbow against the throne.
"Ravick," I called.
Ravick stepped forward, saying, "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Tell we have received sothing from the war front."
His expression tightened. He bowed his head. "Not yet, Your Majesty. The only news we’ve received is that the Prince of ren surrounded our border soldiers before the main conflict began."
A spark of irritation flared in my chest.
Surrounded my daughter?
That brat?
My fingers curled over the armrest. "...I see."
Silence brushed the hall. Dozens of ministers watched carefully—waiting for a reaction. Waiting to see if the Emperor of Eloria would show fear for his only daughter.
But I did not show fear.
I simply whispered, "I hope she’s unhard."
Regis cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, the Princess is strong. She is—"
SLAM!!!!
The throne room doors burst open. A soldier stumbled in—breathless, frantic, nearly tripping over his own boots.
"Y-YOUR MAJESTY!!"
Every head snapped toward him.
My pulse stopped.
The soldier knelt, bowing until his forehead touched marble. "W-We have received a letter from the Princess—and from General Arwin!"
I was on my feet before he finished speaking.
"Give it here."
He rushed forward, arms trembling as he handed two sealed scrolls—one marked with Lavinia’s personal crest, the other stamped by Arwin’s division.
I broke my daughter’s seal first.
Unfolded the parchnt.
Read the first line.
And froze.
The hall tensed instantly—fear, curiosity, and anticipation rising like steam.
"Your Majesty...?" Theon asked nervously. "Did sothing happen? What does the princess say?"
For a heartbeat—just one—I said nothing.
Then slowly... A smile carved its way across my face.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Proud.
A smile this court had not seen in years. I lifted the parchnt high.
"My dear ministers," I said, voice rumbling with restrained triumph, "rejoice."
Their eyes widened.
Regis whispered, "Your Majesty...?"
I stepped forward, boots echoing like thunder on marble.
"My daughter..." I raised my voice—loud, booming, and proud enough to shake dust from the pillars.
"MY DAUGHTER—THE CROWN PRINCESS OF ELORIA—HAS CONQUERED THE ENTIRE KINGDOM OF REN!!!"
Gasps exploded.
Chairs scraped.
Ministers stumbled backward, too stunned to speak.
Cassius Devereux laughed—deep, victorious, and terrifyingly delighted.
"She has taken their borders," I continued, pacing down the steps of the throne with lethal grace. "She crushed their armies. She defeated their general. SHE SLEW THEIR PRINCE HERSELF."
Regis smiled proudly. I smirked—proud, dangerous, pleased beyond asure—and returned to my throne. The room seed too small to contain the weight of my satisfaction.
I sat.
Leaning back like a king who finally received what he had been waiting for.
"Prepare Eloria," I ordered, my voice booming through the grand chamber. "Light every lantern. Hang every banner. Let the streets shine—day and night until my girl returns."
I lifted my chin.
"Let the people know what their Crown Princess has done."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
Ravick stood proudly; the training he gave her...finally was fruitful. Regis placed a hand over his chest in solemn pride. Even Theon—ever anxious—looked breathless.
I wasn’t finished.
My smirk widened—slow, deliberate, unstoppable.
"AND—"
Theon flinched. "Your Majesty, please—don’t—"
I ignored him completely.
"DECLARE THIS DAY A NATIONAL HOLIDAY!!!!"
Theon stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own robes. Regis caught his arm smoothly, patting his shoulder. "Breathe, Theon. You can handle a holiday announcent; you’re used to this."
Outside the hall—a roar erupted.
The news had already reached the guards stationed beyond the massive doors. And like wildfire—
"THE PRINCESS HAS CONQUERED REN!""GLORY TO CROWN PRINCESS LAVINIA!""LONG LIVE THE FUTURE EMPRESS!!!"
Voices thundered through the marble corridors.
Cheers shook the palace walls. Footsteps stamped in exhilaration. Even the windows vibrated from the sheer force of the people shouting her na:
"CROWN PRINCESS LAVINIA!!!! LONG LIVE THE FUTURE EMPRESS!!"
A smile—rare and sharp—pulled at my lips as I looked toward the distant horizon.
"That’s right," I murmured, pride dripping from every syllable. "Let the world cheer for my daughter."
My throne.My kingdom.My bloodline.
And Lavinia...My blazing storm of a child... had just carved her na into history.
***
[anwhile at the ren Imperial Palace—Sa Ti]
The throne room still reeked of blood.
The old emperor’s corpse had already been dragged away. The floor was scrubbed, though the scent of iron still clung to the air like a whisper of death refusing to leave.
I sat on my newly claid throne—straight-backed, legs crossed, cloak spilling down the steps like a river of crimson velvet. The cracked crown rested atop my head, still warm from the previous owner.
Outside, the ren palace trembled with silence.
Inside, the Elorian generals stood in disciplined rows, awaiting my next words. Servants peeked from behind pillars and doorways, their eyes wide, bodies stiff, and breath lodged in their throats.
Fear.
Respect.
Submission.
Everything I expected.Everything I earned.
Solena perched above on a cracked chandelier, cleaning blood off her talons. Marshi lay at the foot of my throne, tail thumping slowly against the polished floor—guarding like a monstrous shadow of loyalty.
I exhaled, letting the heavy atmosphere settle.
"Report," I commanded without raising my voice.
Zerith stepped forward. "Your Highness, the palace gates have been secured. The remaining knights of ren have surrendered. The civilians await your decree."
"Good." I rested my chin on my knuckles. "They will receive it soon."
Haldor approached next—quiet, steady, always watching. "The Elorian banner flies across the city. Morale is high. Our soldiers await your next order."
His eyes flicked briefly toward the dried blood on my armor—concern restrained but present. I ignored it.
"We’re not finished," I said. "Not until every corner of this kingdom understands who rules them."
Arwin stepped forward, grinning. "They already do, Your Highness. They’re calling you sothing."
I raised a brow. "Hmm? What?"
He smirked proudly. "The Red Princess."
. . .
. . .
A beat of silence.
Then—I shrugged lightly. "I suppose it’s not bad."
Zerith laughed under his breath. "Not bad? They’re terrified out of their minds. That na will echo for generations."
Arwin stepped forward, more composed now. "We’ve gathered every remaining noble who didn’t flee the city. They were... very eager to provide information."
"Hmm...they must be the one who knew the prince Kaelren is not suitable for the throne."
He nodded quickly, flipping through a stack of notes. "Yes, Your Highness. According to their reports, ren holds one of the largest salt export networks on the continent. They also command a vast supply of rare sea gems, dicinal kelp, and high-value sea creatures."
Zerith cut in, "They’ve built half their economy on the ocean. Without the sea, ren would collapse entirely."
I sat back on the throne, fingers tapping the armrest thoughtfully.
"So..." I said slowly, eyes narrowing with calculating delight, "...the sea is the essential heart of ren."
Arwin nodded. "More than essential. It’s their lifeline."
A cold smile curved on my lips. "Then it will beco the whole kingdom’s lifeline now."
Haldor bowed his head. "As it should be."
Zerith crossed his arms. "The nobles say the fishing routes, pearl mines, and salt caravans—all of it—can run under your command as early as dawn."
I rose from the throne, my cloak spilling across the steps like a dark tide.
"Good," I said. "Then let us begin shaping this land into sothing useful."
Arwin leaned forward slightly. "Your Highness... your orders?"
I looked down at the three of them—my blades, my shadows, my loyal storms—and my voice cut through the room with cold certainty:
"Summon the nobles who did not flee."
They straightened at once.
"We will hold a council tonight," I continued. "ren is no longer a kingdom. It is an extension of Eloria now—my Eloria."
I stepped down from the throne, boots echoing through the hollow hall like the steps of a new era taking shape.
"We settle its laws. We secure its resources. We rebuild its order." My gaze hardened into steel. "And when all is settled... we leave. This land must function under Elorian rule before I move on."
"Yes, your highness."
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