Inside the eastern wing of the Imperial Succession Hall, Prince Dareth lounged across a crescent couch, one leg draped over the armrest, a crystal goblet rotating lazily in his fingers. He laughed openly as his attendants relayed the report.
"A frontier lord?" he scoffed. "From Astralis Border Seven?"
An aide nodded cautiously. "Yes, Your Highness. Formerly a mercenary commander. Recently elevated."
Dareth waved a dismissive hand. "Celestine collects oddities. Philosophers. Executors. Now mercenaries, it seems."
A few courtiers chuckled softly.
"He seized a continent," another attendant added carefully. "And dismantled Azure Dragon Sect influence."
Dareth snorted. "Sect politics. Petty wars. Give a dog enough teeth and it will bite. That does not make it a dragon."
He leaned back, entirely unconcerned.
"Let him enjoy his moment. When the real powers move, he will fold or be crushed."
Across the hall, Princess Lysera did not laugh.
