The hallway leading to the Royal Bedchamber was quiet. Too quiet. It was the kind of silence you get right before a market crash, or when the HR department calls you in for a "quick chat" on a Friday afternoon.
I checked my internal clock. 2:00 AM.
I checked my vitals.
[Mana Reserves: 8%]
[Humanity Integrity: 65%]
[System Mode: Power Saver.]
I was running on fumes. The trip back from the North had drained me. Maintaining a human shape for six days straight in freezing temperatures costs a fortune in magical energy. Right now, I wasn't really walking; I was just vibrating my leg muscles in a sequence that approximated walking.
"Sylvia," I whispered to the empty air, forgetting I had left her in the carriage outside the palace gates. "If I don't come back in an hour, assume I've been liquidated."
Two Royal Guards stood by the massive, gilded doors. They wore armor that cost more than the GDP of the village I just saved. As I approached, they didn't ask for ID. They just stepped aside, their movements stiff and terrified.
When the Empress invites you over at 2:00 AM, you don't knock. You enter.
I pushed the doors open.
The room was vast, smelling of jasmine and expensive wax. The only light came from a fireplace that was roaring with a fire a little too large for comfort. And there, lounging on a chaise made of red velvet, was Empress Isabella.
She was wearing a silk robe the color of spilled wine. She held a glass of actual spilled wine—or at least, she was tilting it dangerously.
"Duke Arthur," she purred. Her voice was low, carrying a natural reverb that made my simulated skin prickle. "You look terrible. Is that... grave dirt on your boots?"
"It’s imported soil, Your Majesty," I said, bowing low. My spine felt like a wet noodle, but I forced it to hold the angle. "From the Northern expansion. I thought I’d bring a sample of our success."
"Success," she repeated, tasting the word. She sat up, the silk robe slipping just enough to be scandalous, but not enough to be improper. That was Isabella: calculated chaos. "The Church is calling it a miracle. Malakor is calling it a fraud. And I call it... entertaining."
She gestured with a finger. A sharp, manicured nail pointed to the spot right next to her.
"Sit. Drink. Tell me how you cheated."
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.