---
The throne room buzzed with tension.
Ministers lined the marble hall, their voices hushed but sharp. At the center of it all stood Lady Serenya, draped in silk the color of crimson wine, her jeweled hairpins catching the morning light. She looked every inch a queen.
"Your Majesty," she said sweetly, her voice carrying across the chamber. "The Empire whispers. They say the Emperor of Cyrillic has yet to claim his throne with an heir. They say… the Empress alone may not be enough."
The words hung like a blade in the air.
Himeka's breath caught. Her hands, folded tightly in her lap, trembled beneath her sleeves.
Chancellor Roderich cleared his throat loudly. "Lady Serenya, that is—"
But she pressed on, bold.
"My family has long served the crown. If the Emperor would take me as a second consort, it would strengthen his reign. Our bloodlines together could ensure prosperity for Cyrillic."
Gasps rippled through the chamber. Ministers exchanged glances. Some nodded faintly, weighing the politics.
Himeka felt the ground drop out from under her.
Her heart twisted violently, her throat tightening with tears she couldn't show. She wanted to scream, to shout, to tell them she was already giving everything—her love, her body, her soul.
But she stayed silent, nails digging into her palms.
He won't stop her. He never does. He'll sit there, cold and silent, and let them take everything away from me.
Serenya stepped closer to the dais, lowering into a graceful bow. "Your Majesty, I would serve faithfully, as wife and companion. I would give you the heirs your empire deserves."
Himeka's vision blurred. She thought she might faint.
And then—
A sound.
It was soft, almost imperceptible. The creak of fabric.
The Emperor had moved.
His crimson eyes turned, slowly, deliberately. For the first time in front of the entire court, he looked—not at Serenya, not at the ministers—but at Himeka.
Gasps echoed again.
His hand, pale and steady, lifted. He placed it—not on his throne, not in command—but gently, firmly, over Himeka's hand.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Himeka's heart stopped. Her eyes flew wide, her lips trembling.
"…Ah…" The sound escaped her throat, broken and fragile.
The Emperor did not speak. He did not smile. But his action was undeniable. His gaze, his hand—everything declared her as his partner. His Empress.
Lady Serenya froze, her bow faltering. Her smile cracked.
Chancellor Roderich slammed his cane on the floor. "The matter is settled! The Emperor has spoken—without words!"
Ministers who had wavered now lowered their heads in acceptance. Even General Kael smirked faintly, muttering under his breath, "Didn't think I'd ever see the day."
Himeka, trembling, couldn't stop the tears streaming down her cheeks. She bowed her head, her voice breaking as she whispered, "…Thank you."
For once, her gratitude wasn't met with silence—it was met with his hand, unmoving, warm over hers.
And in that single, smallest act, he had given her more than all her desperate kisses combined:
Proof.
Proof that she was not alone.
Proof that, even if only in the faintest grain of emotion, he had chosen her.
---
That night, back in their chamber, Himeka clung to him with a ferocity that surprised even herself.
Her lips traced his jaw, her hands trembling as they cupped his face. "Do you know what you did?" she whispered through tears. "You told the world I'm yours. You—" Her voice cracked. "You saved me."
She kissed him again and again, her tears dampening his cheeks.
"Even if you never speak, even if you never say the words… you're my husband. My Emperor. My everything."
Her forehead pressed against his, her smile breaking through sobs. "…And I'll love you until I die."
---
Outside the chamber, Lady Serenya stood in the shadows, her painted nails biting into her palm.
"…So she cracked the ice," she muttered bitterly. "But cracks can still be shattered."
Her eyes glimmered with cold resolve.
The rival had not been defeated. Not yet.
---
End of Chapter 15
---