Thank you so much@SleepyCat_363 for the Golden Ticket.

Thank you so much @Linda1276 for the gift.

Thank you so so much everyone.

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"An empire without a ruler is like a blade without a hand to wield it."

The proverb spread through Dagon long before dawn fully touched the capital.

By morning, it had become the only thing anyone spoke about.

The death of the emperor had shaken the empire to its foundation, but it was not grief that unsettled the nobles of Dagon.

It was uncertainty.

For the first time in decades, the imperial throne stood empty.

And an empty throne was dangerous.

Rosaline realized that the moment she stepped into the palace hall beside Xandros.

The atmosphere felt nothing like the gathering from before. There was no music drifting through the corridors, no sweet perfume hanging lazily in the air, no noblewomen pretending friendship while tearing each other apart with smiles. Right now, the palace breathed tension.

Servants moved quickly through the halls with lowered heads. Knights stood at every entrance with their hands resting on their swords. Nobles gathered in quiet clusters beneath towering marble pillars, whispering behind jeweled fans and gloved hands.

Everyone looked nervous and calculating.

Rosaline kept close to Xandros as they walked through the grand corridor leading toward the imperial assembly chamber. The polished floors reflected the gold light pouring down from the crystal chandeliers above them, yet the beauty of the palace could not soften the heaviness in the air.

Even the sound of footsteps echoed too loudly.

"What exactly is happening right now?" Rosaline asked quietly as they climbed the staircase.

Xandros did not slow his pace. Dressed entirely in black with silver embroidery lining the sharp edges of his coat, he looked less like a duke today and more like something dangerous wearing noble clothing.

"The council is announcing the successor," he replied simply. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Rosaline frowned slightly. "Right now?"

"They delayed it as long as possible already."

His voice remained calm, but she noticed the way the nobles moved aside when he passed. Some bowed immediately. Others avoided looking at him altogether.

Fear.

Not respect.

Fear.

Rosaline still did not fully understand the political structure of Dagon, but she understood enough to know one thing.

Xandros was powerful.

Dangerously powerful.

As they entered the imperial chamber, the conversations died almost instantly.

Rosaline’s breath caught softly.

The chamber was enormous.

Golden pillars stretched upward like trees, holding the high domed ceiling painted with ancient wars and dragons wrapped around the imperial crest. Nobles filled the circular levels surrounding the chamber floor, their richly colored clothing turning the hall into a sea of silk and jewels.

At the very front stood the imperial throne.

Empty.

Rosaline stared at it longer than she meant to.

The sight felt strange.....to her?

She never had a talk with the emperor properly before his death, but the emptiness of the throne still carried weight.

As though the empire itself could feel the absence.

Xandros guided her toward the front rows reserved for the highest-ranking nobles. The moment they sat down, whispers immediately rose around them.

Rosaline pretended not to notice.

"She’s the white-haired duchess."

"I heard the duke has become obsessed with her."

"No, no. I saw her arrive before him today... don’t you think that’s more fishy?."

"That girl looks too fragile to survive palace politics."

Rosaline resisted the urge to sigh.

Nobles truly had too much free time.

She folded her hands neatly on her lap instead and focused forward.

Soon, the large doors at the far end of the chamber opened.

Silence spread immediately.

Every noble stood.

Rosaline followed quickly, startled by the sudden movement around her.

Then she saw a boy.

The successor.

He entered with calm, measured steps, dressed in formal imperial robes of deep navy and gold. He looked young.

Too young.

Perhaps twenty at most.

His black hair was tied neatly behind him, exposing sharp features and cold blue eyes that swept across the chamber with unsettling composure. He was handsome in a refined way, but there was exhaustion hidden beneath his expression.

As though he had been dragged into responsibility before he wanted it.

Rosaline blinked softly.

That was the next emperor?

The nobles clearly shared her thoughts.

The whispers exploded almost immediately after he reached the center of the chamber.

"He’s too young."

"The empire is unstable already."

"How can someone his age control the northern territories?"

"What happens if neighboring kingdoms attack?"

"He spent years away from the capital!"

Rosaline glanced around carefully.

The tension had become sharp enough to taste.

An older noble suddenly stepped forward from the crowd, his golden robes sweeping across the marble floor.

"With all due respect," he announced loudly, his voice echoing through the chamber, "the empire cannot afford weakness during such dangerous times."

Murmurs of agreement followed instantly.

The young successor remained still.

Completely still.

Rosaline found that strange.

If dozens of nobles openly questioned her ability to rule, she would probably faint.

But he simply stood there, calm and unreadable.

Another noble spoke up. "Prince Darian spent most of his years outside the capital. He has no understanding of imperial governance."

"So what exactly qualifies him to become emperor?" another demanded.

Rosaline turned slightly toward Xandros. "This feels less like a meeting and more like wolves fighting over meat."

One corner of Xandros’ mouth lifted faintly.

"That is politics."

She stared at him. "That’s terrifying."

"It should be."

Before Rosaline could respond again, the elderly grand minister stepped forward, raising his staff.

"Silence in the imperial chamber!"

The room quieted immediately.

The old man’s gaze swept over the nobles before settling on the young prince standing before the throne.

"By blood right and imperial decree," he announced, "Prince Darian stands as the legitimate successor to the throne of Dagon."

The chamber remained tense.

Nobody applauded.

Nobody celebrated.

The silence itself became offensive.

Rosaline felt awkward just standing there.

Then suddenly...

Xandros rose to his feet.

The movement alone shifted the room.

Every eye turned toward him instantly.

Rosaline looked up at him in surprise.

His expression remained unreadable as he stepped forward slightly, his voice calm but carrying enough authority to silence the entire chamber.

"I support Prince Darian’s ascension."

That was all.

One sentence.

One simple sentence.

Yet the effect was immediate.

The atmosphere changed.

Rosaline saw it happen in real time.

Nobles who looked uncertain moments ago suddenly exchanged glances. Others who had been openly resistant immediately lowered their gazes.

Because if the Duke of Dagon supported the new emperor...

Opposing him suddenly became dangerous.

Rosaline’s eyes widened slightly.

That much influence?

Had she just slapped this man ....not long ago for that matter?

Prince Darian finally looked toward Xandros directly. Something unreadable passed between them.

Understanding.

Trust.

Or perhaps something political Rosaline could not grasp.

The older noble who had questioned the prince earlier frowned deeply. "Your Grace," he said carefully, "supporting the prince is one matter. Entrusting the empire to someone so inexperienced is another."

Xandros turned toward him slowly.

The movement alone felt threatening.

"Inexperience," he said calmly, "can be corrected."

The noble opened his mouth again, but Xandros continued before he could speak.

"Cowardice cannot."

Silence.

Complete silence.

Rosaline nearly winced.

That sounded less like politics and more like execution.

The older noble’s face paled immediately.

Meanwhile, Prince Darian remained perfectly composed beside the throne, though Rosaline noticed something shift in his expression as he looked at Xandros.

Respect.

Genuine respect.

Interesting.

Rosaline leaned back slightly in her seat, studying the young prince more carefully now.

He still looked young.

Still looked burdened.

But there was intelligence in his eyes.

Sharpness.

The kind hidden beneath quiet people.

Perhaps that was why Xandros supported him.

The grand minister finally raised his voice again. "If there are no further objections, preparations for the coronation shall begin immediately."

There were objections.

Rosaline could see them written all over the nobles’ faces.

But nobody spoke.

Because Xandros still stood there.

Watching everyone of them.

The meeting slowly shifted into discussions about military borders, noble alliances, taxation, and succession laws. Rosaline tried to follow along at first.

She truly did.

But after the first twenty minutes, she felt like her brain was dissolving.

"...the western territory remains unstable due to reduced imperial troops..."

"...the treasury cannot sustain another border conflict..."

"...House Veridian may attempt rebellion..."

Rosaline blinked slowly.

Politics was exhausting.

She glanced sideways at Xandros.

He looked entirely focused, occasionally speaking with frightening precision whenever disputes arose. Nobles listened to him immediately every single time.

Not once did anyone interrupt him.

Rosaline suddenly realized something unsettling.

If Xandros wanted the throne...

he could probably take it.

The thought sent a chill through her.

Perhaps sensing her stare, Xandros glanced toward her briefly.

"What?" he asked her with a raise brow.

She immediately looked away. "Nothing."

His eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced.

Rosaline pretended sudden interest in the marble floor.

By the time the assembly finally ended, her head hurt.

Nobles immediately crowded around Prince Darian the moment the meeting adjourned, each trying to secure favor with the new emperor.

Rosaline remained where she was, watching quietly.

Prince Darian handled the attention surprisingly well. Calm. Controlled. Diplomatic.

Yet every now and then, his gaze drifted back toward Xandros.

Almost as though checking whether the duke still stood beside him.

Interesting again.

"You’re staring," Xandros murmured beside her as they began walking out of the chamber.

Rosaline glanced up at him innocently. "Am I?"

"Yes."

"Well," she admitted carefully, "I was trying to understand why everyone listens to you like you could destroy their bloodlines."

"That’s because I can."

Rosaline choked slightly.

He said it so casually.

Xandros glanced down at her with faint amusement before continuing toward the corridor.

Behind them, nobles still whispered endlessly about the new emperor, alliances, and what the future of Dagon would become under such young leadership.

Rosaline listened quietly as they walked.

Fear.

Doubt.

Suspicion.

Nobody trusted stability yet.

And honestly?

Neither did she.

As they stepped onto the palace balcony overlooking the capital, Rosaline paused.

The city stretched endlessly beneath the night sky, golden rooftops glowing beneath fading light. Somewhere below, citizens probably already discussed the empire’s future.

A young emperor.

A dangerous duke.

An unstable throne.

The beginning of something.

Or the beginning of disaster.

Rosaline rested her hands lightly against the balcony railing and looked toward the horizon.

"I think," she said slowly, "everyone is scared."

Xandros stood beside her, his dark coat shifting softly in the wind.

"Yes."

"Are you?"

His grey eyes shifted toward her.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then he answered quietly...

"I’m waiting."