“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Archduchess? The spectacle you’ve been parading these past days was far too obvious.”

Duke Matteo’s voice carried smugness like perfume, his chair angled back as though the outcome were already decided.

Kayona ignored him. Instead, she swept into a low curtsey before the throne, Maxwell and Anita bowing at her sides.

“I pay my respects to His Majesty, Alistair IV.”

The Emperor inclined his head. “Rise, Archduchess. I trust your journey was without trouble.”

“It was, Your Majesty.” She lifted her gaze. “Your kindness is noted.”

The chamber quieted. The council’s faces, seven pairs of eyes, pressed down like stone.

“Forgive my attendants for not offering you greeting,” Kayona added lightly. “My ‘pets’ only bow to those they recognize.”

Matteo scoffed. “Has she gone mad?”

Duchess Philipa’s hand struck the desk. “What did you just say?”

Kayona’s eyes slid to her. “Only that it is unfair to keep me standing in heels while being questioned. Surely I am allowed to defend myself, Duchess Dolvenhart.”

“Silence, child!” Counselor Rovlor snapped, cold and clipped. “You will not address your elders in such a manner.”

Kayona laughed softly, brushing a curl from her cheek. “Forgive me, oh ancient one.”

“Ancient?” Rovlor bristled.

“Age is nothing in politics,” she said smoothly. “I owe none of you anything but the truth.”

“Then answer plainly,” High Priest Hemilio pressed, his fingers tightening together. “Is this engagement to Lord Sylrick Kartegen merely a scheme to keep your crown?”

“A scheme? Tell me, High Priest, did I betroth myself?”

Matteo leaned forward. “What exactly are you implying, Archduchess?”

“I imply that questions of marriage concern two people. To corner me alone will yield nothing.”

“Careful,” Hemilio warned. “It is this council that decides whether you keep your crown at all.”

“Your defiance is bold,” Countess Eveline murmured, eyes never leaving Kayona. “But boldness alone is not strategy.”

Silence pressed in. Marquise Selene said nothing, only watched her, unblinking. Archduke Geerich’s quiet smirk lingered in the corner like a shadow.

Hemilio turned toward the throne. “Your Majesty?”

The Emperor’s gaze swept the chamber, then settled on Kayona.

“I have yet to hear what crime the Archduchess is accused of. Now that she stands before us, enlighten me. Otherwise…” His voice sliced through the air. “Do not waste my time.”

Kayona’s chest tightened. I was ready for condemnation… But why is he on my side?

She let her gaze sweep the crescent of faces, all so uneasy, all pretending to be the Empire’s conscience.

One of you, if not more, was involved in my parents’ murder.

Behind her, Maxwell and Anita exchanged a fleeting glance, tension written in their silence.

“I was the one who summoned her, Your Majesty,” Matteo announced, lifting his hand as if presenting proof. “The Archduchess…”

“I will speak first.” Hemilio cut across him without hesitation, voice smooth but iron underneath. “We believe the Archduchess entered this so-called contract marriage solely to preserve her title. We believe that their marriage won’t last”

Matteo’s jaw tightened. Who does he think he is to silence me?

The Emperor rested his chin on his hand, eyes heavy-lidded but sharp.

“Yes… I’ve heard this accusation repeated. And yet, I see no crime in it. Marriage is marriage, no matter the reason.”

“She mocks the law, Your Majesty!” Rovlor’s clipped voice cracked like ice. “This is nothing but deceit.”

Kayona’s gaze stayed cool, though her thoughts burned.

I haven’t explained a word of my marriage to any of you. And yet you spin tales as if you were there during my arrangements with Sylrick.

“She exploited Lord Kartegen’s return,” Philipa snapped. “She pounced the moment he stepped foot back in the capital.”

Matteo smirked, pleased with her venom. Four heads nodded in agreement like a silent chorus. Only Archduke Geerich sat unmoved, fingers steepled, unreadable.

“You have not spoken, Archduke,” the Emperor said at last, his attention turning.

“I came as Your Majesty’s advisor,” The Archduke replied smoothly. “Not as a voice for or against this quarrel.”

The Emperor’s gaze shifted back to Kayona. “If you keep your silence, Archduchess, it will be read as guilt. Transparency is your only shield.”

Kayona lifted her hands slowly to her face and let out a trembling sob. Her shoulders shook just enough to be convincing.

“I… I only wished to protect him…”

The chamber froze.

“Did she just start crying?” Eveline’s soft voice carried across the table, skeptical yet intrigued.

Hemilio leaned forward, unmoved by tears. “Protect who, Archduchess?”

Kayona lowered her hands, eyes glistening. “Sylrick. My fiancé.”

Matteo leaned forward, lips curling. Now this is getting interesting.

“We are listening,” Hemilio pressed.

She dropped her gaze, her voice faltering. “He… does not wish this to be spoken, nor does he trust anyone here. If I reveal it, I will betray him. And I… I don’t know if I can.”

A few councilors exhaled sharply; others exchanged looks heavy with irritation.

Kayona lifted her head, eyes glistening with practiced tears. Her voice wavered just enough to sell the performance.

“But I have no choice but to tell you. You are the Imperial Council, after all.”

Matteo leaned forward, triumphant. “Finally, we’re on the same page…”

Kayona cut across him, her tone shifting back to steel.

“But before I speak, every council member must swear an oath. Nothing leaves these walls.”

Philipa scoffed. “Are you trying to dictate terms to the Imperial Council…”

The Emperor’s hand stilled the chamber. His voice carried no warmth, only command.

“This court is sealed. Nothing leaves these walls without my sanction. Swear it, all of you.”

One by one, hands were raised, words spoken, clipped, reluctant oaths. Even the Emperor gave his own, though his eyes never left Kayona.

She waited until the last echo faded. Then, with a slow, deliberate breath, she lifted her chin.

“Very well. If you want the truth, here it is: Sylrick cannot father children.”

The words landed like glass shattering.

Philipa’s eyes widened. Rovlor stiffened. Eveline’s pen paused mid-stroke. Only the Archduke of Geerich remained unreadable, as if he had suspected all along.

Kayona pressed forward before anyone could recover. “That is why we suit each other. He wants a wife who will not betray him for what he cannot give. And I…” she let her gaze sweep them, steady now, “…I have no desire to bear children. We understand one another. We have chosen one another.”

A heavy silence gripped the chamber. Then Matteo’s voice cut through, sharp with curiosity.

“Impotent? Is it… the same sickness as…” He caught himself, eyes flicking toward the throne.

No one dared finish the thought aloud.

The Emperor’s expression didn’t change, but the air thickened. Hemilio lowered his gaze. Selene, silent until now, shifted in her chair with the faintest rustle, the sound louder than words.

Kayona’s fake tears had vanished. What remained was a calm, unyielding poise.

“So you see, Councillors, this engagement is not a scheme. It is a solution to our personal affairs. The rest is none of your concern.”

The Emperor’s hand lowered, the silence holding.

“Very well,” Hemilio said finally, voice thin but steady. “Then the council requires proof. A physician’s certification of Lord Kartegen’s condition.”

Philipa nodded sharply. Rovlor adjusted his papers. No one dared look at the Emperor.

Kayona inclined her head, every inch the obedient archduchess.

“As you wish.”

The gavel fell, closing the session.

***

The car door shut, muting the capital’s noise. Kayona exhaled slowly, silver curls slipping over her cheek as the city blurred past the window.

A sharp laugh burst from her lips. She leaned back in her seat, laughter spilling harder, echoing in the small space.

“Fools,” she muttered between breaths. “All their cheap tricks, laid bare without shame.”

Maxwell’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror but he held his tongue. Anita sat rigid beside her, lips pressed tight, hands clasped.

Kayona rested her head against the cool glass, a thin smile cutting across her face. A doctor’s report? That’s nothing. I have connections enough to conjure one before dusk.

Her smile faded, eyes narrowing at her own reflection in the glass.

But Sylrick… how do I tell you what I’ve just done in your name?