Shadow
Chapter 11

 The Division of the Crown (2)

 The First Council Meeting
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A new workday began as the Grand Council Hall welcomed its members. Every councilor made sure to attend this meeting—today was different.
Half of them were eager to witness a new form of power rising in Norton, a hopeful future perhaps; while the other half believed that a disaster was looming, one that must be stopped before it was too late.

Once everyone had gathered, the King finally entered, followed by Crown Prince Ivan, surrounded by the royal guards led by Baron the Thirteenth.
Shadow sat sternly upon his throne, one leg over the other, and signaled with a single hand for the meeting to begin.

Suddenly, the Queen arrived—late—as always, accompanied by her guardian, Ivanka Baron.
Asma was casually eating a piece of candy, while Ivanka looked down in utter embarrassment, her ears flushed red.
When Ivan saw that, he began to laugh under his breath, struggling to hold it in—but even that was enough for Shadow to hear.

Shadow glared at Asma with disdain and finally spoke coldly:

“Your Majesty, the King reserves the right to dismiss those who arrive late, not to mention violating royal decorum. Please, Get out.”

He gestured toward the door with his chin before turning back to his documents.

One of the conservative nobles smirked,

“Your Majesty! If you’re so fond of sugar, we could’ve left a candy cart for you instead of a throne!”

The hall fell silent. They thought they had humiliated her beyond forgiveness.
But then Asma smiled brightly, showing her teeth.

“Excellent idea! My first reform shall be: adding sweets to the council hall! I’m sure attendance will improve greatly—
after all, I’ve heard you skip meetings often. I wonder why everyone came today?”

Laughter erupted from the opposition party, and the loudest of all was Ivan’s, who had finally lost control.
Shadow understood her mockery and looked at her quietly—not angry this time, just unreadable.

A conservative member shouted,

“Shame! This is not a Queen!”

Shadow’s eyes flicked toward him—cold, lethal. The man shrank instantly into silence.

Shadow sighed.

“Your Majesty, please leave for now. I expect your punctuality and adherence to decorum next time.”

He spoke calmly, resting his head on his hand as usual.
Asma bowed politely and left with Ivanka.

In the Queen’s chamber, laughter filled the air.

“Did you see his face, Ivanka? He looked like a tomato about to explode! Hahaha!”
“Well done, Your Majesty.”
“But you were far too shy,” Asma teased, as if scolding a child.
“In truth, Your Majesty, I never imagined I’d witness such a breach of etiquette in my life! I’m still not used to it.”
“Then get used to it! Hahaha! Like Ivan—he loves trouble!”
“Actually, the prince never dares to break the rules like you do, Your Majesty. He just… enjoys watching it.”
“Of course! Now, let’s prepare for tonight’s banquet. I want to look stunning!”
“As you command, Your Majesty.”

Ivanka rang the bell, and Lady Litchie entered with her assistants, carrying a magnificent purple gown adorned with heavy jewels and a grand headpiece.
Asma’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

That evening, the palace of Nixara was alive with movement.
Servants placed silverware carefully across the grand banquet tables; guards patrolled the gardens in perfect formation.
Lady Litchie and her staff greeted the arriving noble guests, leading them through the palace halls.

Soon the grand banquet began, celebrating the two-thousandth anniversary of the founding of the Great Kingdom of Norton.

In the royal hall, Shadow sat upon his throne with his usual intimidating grace.
Asma sat beside him on a smaller chair, visibly bored.

Among the greetings and hollow compliments, a pompous noble—Sir Albert, head of the conservatives—spoke arrogantly:

“Having a commoner girl seated among the nobility… how unprecedented.”

Some snickered maliciously.

Asma heard it clearly. Shadow was too occupied with another conversation to notice.
Then she suddenly leaned forward, eyes wide in mock surprise.

“Ooooh, really?”

And burst into loud laughter—utterly unbefitting of a refined lady.

Shadow froze, horrified.

“Hhhhhhahahahahaha!”

Her laughter echoed through the hall—and a tiny drop of her spit landed right on the noble’s face.

The hall fell into dead silence.
The noble stood frozen, staring at his wet cheek.

Shadow buried his face in his hands and whispered to himself,

“My God… please, end my suffering now…”

Asma, unfazed, handed him a handkerchief.

“Ah! Sorry… truly sorry! But you look much better now.”

Ivan nearly collapsed laughing, holding his mouth shut. The rest of the court struggled to maintain composure.

The noble wiped his face in fury, and his wife—the arrogant Grand Duchess—rose sharply.

“You are a disgrace! How can a vulgar woman like you be our Queen?!”

Everyone gasped. Shadow’s hand clenched the throne’s armrest until his knuckles turned white.

Asma stood slowly, placing her hand over her chest as if to bow.

“Oh, my respect, madam…”

She paused briefly—then smiled widely.

“…for your Ass!”

A thunderous silence fell once more.
The Duchess froze, eyes bulging in shock.
Several nobles choked trying not to laugh.
Ivan literally fell to the floor this time, clutching his stomach in tears.

Shadow stared blankly at Asma, his mind whispering:

“It’s over. Norton is doomed.”

Asma sat comfortably, took her drink, and said casually,

“So, are we going to eat now or continue this screaming contest?”

The hall was frozen in disbelief.
Shadow’s face had gone pale—he looked as he lost two whole centuries of his life.

Ivan was still rolling on the floor.

“Oh my God… I can’t! She’ll kill me with laughter before she kills you!”

Even the guards bowed their heads, pretending not to laugh.
The Duchess trembled, clinging to her handkerchief.

“Believe me, madam,” Asma smiled sweetly, “I’m usually much nicer. Just not in this mood today.”

Shadow’s cold voice cut through the tension:

“Ivan. Silence. Now.”

Ivan pointed at Asma from the floor,

“I swear… she’s going to be the death of us all!”

After the disastrous banquet, Asma felt completely full after devouring the feast shamelessly before the nobles.

While Ivanka waited in the main hall, Asma noticed the King’s chamber door left slightly open—unusual.
Curiosity sparkled in her eyes. She sneaked in quietly, gliding like a feather, avoiding the royal guards’ sight.

Inside, the dark corridor was lined with towering portraits. Her eyes landed on one painting in particular—the same noble, beautiful woman she had seen once before.

Asma smirked.

“Ah… wonderful! Another elegant lady looking down on me like she’s above everyone. As if the living Duchesses weren’t enough!”

She put her hand on her hip, stepped closer, removed her veil to compare her red hair to the woman’s dark hair…
and grew more irritated.

Then, impulsively, she raised both middle fingers toward the portrait and shouted a stream of bizarre modern insults—
laughing uncontrollably all the while.

Shadow appeared silently behind her from a side door, watching in disbelief.
He didn’t understand her strange modern words, but he knew they were not polite.

He stood there, stunned.

“What… are you doing?”

Asma froze, then turned with an awkward smile.

“Oh! Just… exercise! You don’t know this move? It’s… modern meditation!”

Shadow narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly.

“I heard words I don’t understand. But this…”

“Because you don’t know the modern language! It’s the latest trend where I come from! Haha!”

He just stared, unamused.

Asma thought nervously, “His eyes are so sharp, they might slice me in half!”

Shadow stepped closer to the portrait, rage flickering faintly in his expression.
Then Asma realized too late… this woman wasn’t just anyone.

Shadow spoke, voice low and heavy:

“Do not touch her. Do not speak of her. Or I’ll show you a hell you’ve never imagined.”

After scolding her, he turned and left.
Asma stood frozen in silence before the portrait—until her eyes widened in shock.

She gasped, hand over her mouth.

“Oh my god… no way… don’t tell me that woman was… his mother!?”

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