The high-ceilinged conference chamber was usually cold, but today the silence made it feel outright glacial. King Alderon sat at the head of the polished table, his hands folded neatly over his ornate, dark velvet tunic. Arrayed around him were the key players of both realms.
Yerel sitting to his right, looking remarkably composed, Karson right behind him, Captain of the Imperial Guard, and the rest of the high-ranking Auzelian officials.
Across the table sat the Solaric delegation, led by Gillian, who looked thoroughly bored as he leaned back in his high-backed chair, and Iryna. She looked much better now. Her eyes were clear, steady, and fixed on the thick leather-bound book in the middle of the table.
It was Wina’s diary.
"The investigation has reached its conclusion," Karson said, breaking the heavy silence as he tapped the cover of the journal. "The poison used on Princess Iryna was acquired through underground channels in the lower city. The maid, Wina, acted alone. Her family suffered severe personal loss during the last border conflict between Auzelian and Solaric, specifically, her father and older brother died in the war."
Karson turned a page, his voice steady. "Her entry from three weeks ago outlines everything. Her anger toward the peace treaty, her resentment toward the Auzelian crown for welcoming a Solaric."
The Captain of the Imperial Guard, standing stiffly behind King Alderon’s chair, cleared his throat. "There were no co-conspirators inside the palace. It was a single, bitter servant driven by personal revenge."
Iryna reached out, her slender fingers resting lightly on the dark leather cover. She pulled the book toward herself, flipped it shut with a quiet, decisive snap, and pushed it gently back toward the center of the table.
"It certainly paints a complete picture," Iryna commented softly, her voice carrying easily through the quiet room. "A tragic, foolish girl who thought a glass of poison could rewrite history."
"Tragic or not, the motivation is clear," Gillian said, his voice dripping with dry disdain as he pulled the diary toward his side of the table. "And while we appreciate the swift conclusion of your guards’ investigation, Your Majesty, let us not pretend this closes the book on Auzelian’s responsibility."
Karson narrowed his eyes. "The culprit is dead, Prince Gillian. She took her own life before the guards could do anything to her."
"And yet my sister nearly died in your guest chambers!" Gillian shot back, leaning forward as his knuckles slammed flat against the table. "A maid managed to slip lethal poison into the wine of a royal guest under the nose of your entire palace security! The fact that her motivation was personal doesn’t erase the terrifying truth, Auzelian’s oversight was careless to the point of criminal."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the Solaric side of the table.
"Solaric sent a healthy princess to finalize a sacred bond," Gillian continued, his dark eyes sweeping over the Auzelian court. "Instead, we spent agonizing hours waiting to see if she would wake up or be carried out in a coffin. We demand formal concessions for this breach. Compensation, an immediate review of trade tariffs, and official assurances that our safety will no longer be left to chance."
A senior Auzelian minister looked ready to snap, his mouth opening to deliver a furious defense of the palace security, but Yerel raised a calm hand, shutting his aide down without even turning his head.
"Prince Gillian isn’t entirely wrong, Karson," Yerel said smoothly, resting his chin in his palm as he twirled a silver quill between his fingers. "It was an embarrassing failure. A maid with a grudge almost ruined a years of diplomatic effort because someone forgot to check the pantry staff’s background. Solaric has every right to feel insulted."
Yerel paused, tossing the quill onto the table. It landed with a soft clatter.
"However," Yerel continued, looking directly at King Alderon before turning to face Gillian, "the treaty stands. What happened was an attempt to tear our empires apart, and succumbing to panic or calling off the alliance now would simply give a dead servant exactly what she wanted. The marriage will continue."
The room went still again. The Solaric delegates exchanged cautious, calculating looks. They had pushed for compensation, but none of them actually wanted to walk away from the betrothal empty-handed, not when the political gains were this massive.
King Alderon leaned forward slightly, his heavy crown catching the daylight filtering through the high windows. "My son speaks wisely. The betrothal remains the pillar of our treaty. But given the circumstances..." Alderon turned his gaze toward the young royal sitting across from him. "Princess Iryna? You have proven your strength by recovering from such a heinous attempt on your life. If you have concerns regarding your future here..."
"My future is my own affair, Your Majesty," Iryna interrupted smoothly. She stood up from her chair, smoothing down the front of her dark blue gown. Her posture was straight, her chin lifted, radiating a sharp, cold authority that surprised even a few of the older Auzelian officials in the room.
"I am the one who lay in that bed coughing up blood," Iryna said, her voice ringing clear against the stone walls. "I am the one whose life was put on the scale for this alliance. Auzelian’s carelessness nearly cost me my breath, and Solaric’s pride demands a heavy price for the insult."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle over the quiet room.
"Because I am the one who suffered the brunt of this disaster," she continued, "I believe I have earned the right to dictate how my future is decided."
Yerel raised an eyebrow, a tiny flicker of genuine curiosity breaking through his calm facade. "What are you proposing, Princess? By tradition, the terms of a royal betrothal are set by the ruling monarchs."
"Tradition didn’t stop a vial of poison from reaching my lips," Iryna replied instantly, not flinching under the Crown Prince’s gaze. "If I am to tie my life to a foreign court for the sake of peace, I will not be handed off like a piece of disputed land. The agreement was that I would marry into the higher nobility to solidify our ties."
She smiled, a faint, sharp expression that didn’t reach her eyes, but carried an undeniable edge of triumph.
"Do you have someone specific in mind?" King Alderon asked softly.
"I do," Iryna said, looking around the table, meeting the stunned, shifting gazes of the ministers one by one before settling her eyes on the windows overlooking the lower city. "I will choose my betrothed myself. And I want someone from Valtrane."
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter
