Chapter 50: The Emperor's Move
The sun hung low over the capital, bathing the grand imperial palace in hues of crimson and gold. Its towering spires gleamed beneath the fading light, a testament to the empire's unshakable power.
But within the heart of the palace, behind marble walls and silken drapes, power was shifting.
The Emperor sat upon his gilded throne, his sharp golden eyes cold as he gazed down at the gathered nobles and officials before him.
A tense silence filled the hall.
Then, his voice, calm yet absolute, shattered the stillness.
"The Everhart heir… What do you make of him?"
A Meeting of Shadows
The nobles exchanged uncertain glances. None wished to be the first to speak, yet the weight of the question bore down on them like a sword at their throats.
Finally, a man stepped forward.
Duke Gerard Valen, a seasoned noble with graying hair and sharp, calculating eyes.
He bowed low before the Emperor.
"Your Majesty," he began carefully, "Leonhardt Valerian Everhart is a prodigy beyond reason. His display of power at the recent gathering… was unlike anything the noble houses have ever seen."
The Emperor remained silent, waiting.
Duke Valen continued.
"His strength is undeniable, and with the Everhart name behind him, he will be unstoppable if left unchecked."
A murmur spread through the chamber.
Another noble, Marquess Hildebrand, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, the boy is dangerous. Even the eldest sons of the grandest ducal houses pale in comparison to him. If his power continues to grow unchecked—"
The Emperor lifted a hand. The chamber immediately fell into silence.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if lost in thought.
Then, when he spoke, his words were laced with undeniable authority.
"He is a sword waiting to be wielded."
His gaze swept across the chamber.
"Power like his cannot be ignored. If he is loyal, he will be the empire's greatest weapon. If not…"
A chilling pause.
"…Then we must ensure that he never becomes an enemy."
The meaning behind his words was clear.
A Proposal in the Dark
Seated at the far end of the room, an elegantly dressed woman raised her head slightly, a smirk playing at her lips.
Second Princess Seraphina d'Arcelia.
She had been watching the discussion unfold with amusement, her sapphire eyes glinting with something unreadable.
And now—it was time to strike.
"My Emperor," she spoke, her voice smooth as silk. "If you wish to secure the Everhart heir's loyalty… why not bind him to the imperial family?"
The nobles tensed.
Seraphina smiled, placing a delicate hand over her chest.
"Through marriage."
Whispers spread like wildfire.
Some nobles looked intrigued, while others appeared uneasy.
The Emperor remained unreadable, his golden gaze locked onto his daughter.
Seraphina met his eyes fearlessly.
"A political marriage between myself and Leonhardt Everhart would ensure the grand duke's house remains tied to the imperial family. A man like him cannot be controlled by force—but through marriage, he can be brought closer to the throne."
The chamber buzzed with murmurs once more.
It was a bold suggestion.
But was it truly possible?
Everyone had witnessed Leonhardt Everhart's chilling coldness, his utter disinterest in matters of nobility. Would he accept such a proposal?
Seraphina smirked to herself.
He will have no choice.
The Emperor remained silent for a long moment before he finally spoke.
"…Interesting."
His golden eyes gleamed with calculation.
"Very well. We shall see how the Everharts respond."
Leonhardt's Reaction
Back at the Everhart estate, the air was heavy.
Leonhardt sat in his private study, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood of his desk. His fiery red eyes remained impassive as he stared at the sealed letter before him.
A letter from the imperial palace.
A proposal.
An engagement to Second Princess Seraphina d'Arcelia.
His fingers stilled.
A long, cold silence filled the room.
Then—
CRACK.
The wooden armrest of his chair shattered beneath his grip.
His eyes burned like molten gold, flickering with cold fury.
They thought they could bind him? Control him?
Pathetic.
Leonhardt closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before releasing a slow exhale.
The fools in the imperial palace had made their move.
Now, it was his turn.