Alexander’s plans to return to the Dracox estate this week were suddenly thrown into disarray.
His intention to temporarily escape the watchful eyes of the court and satisfy his intense craving for Elena Rose was shattered by a far more lethal reality.
Inside the Crown Prince’s secret study, sheltered from the palace spies, the air felt extraordinarily heavy.
Hugo had just slipped in through the underground passage, carrying a scroll wrapped in black cloth, a signal that the information within was worth lives.
Alexander stood near the fireplace, reading line after line of the classified intelligence report.
His usually cold blue eyes flashed with a dangerous glint capable of freezing anyone who looked at him.
Prince Helios had not merely returned from his diplomatic studies to rattle his political standing.
His half-brother had pushed far beyond the boundaries of sanity.
Helios was orchestrating treason.
A bloody rebellion was being planned behind the curtains.
Helios and the northern noble faction intended to carry out a calculated assassination of the Emperor–their own father, whose health was steadily declining.
The plan was simple yet horrifying, slowly poison the Emperor, pin the blame for the death on the Empress’s faction, and then execute Alexander on charges of high treason before seizing the crown by force.
Srettt.
Alexander tossed the scroll into the flickering flames of the fireplace.
The priceless parchment turned to ash within seconds.
“Is this report valid, Hugo?” Alexander’s voice sounded like a whisper of death.
“One hundred percent valid, Your Highness,” Hugo answered, bowing his head.
“Prince Helios has gathered thousands of mercenaries at the northern border and bribed several inner palace gatekeepers.
The Emperor’s assassination is planned to take place during the Red Moon Festival next week.”
Alexander let out a mocking chuckle, a laugh filled with pure disgust for his half-brother’s greed.
Helios assumed his movements were entirely seamless, believing that a prince born to a former concubine like Alexander held no substantial grip outside the capital.
Helios’s arrival had indeed initially been a beacon of light and a breath of fresh air for the noble factions who secretly harbored hatred toward Alexander and his mother, the Second Empress.
They viewed Alexander as an ‘elevated illegitimate son,’ a stain on the Empire’s pure bloodline.
Those who had previously remained neutral were beginning to bare their fangs, preparing to side with Helios the moment the signal for rebellion was given.
However, Helios and his supporters forgot one critical fact: Alexander was not a man who maintained his position by relying solely on the Empress’s favor or his family lineage.
Alexander stepped toward the tactical map table of the Empire.
His fingers pointed to the nodes of true power that served as the genuine pillars of his rule.
To utterly crush Helios’s rebellion and reveal the true balance of power to the two-faced nobles, Alexander had built his own foundation of strength independently.
His most lethal weapon was not noble status, but rather the Independent Military Leaders–veteran generals of the southern and western regions who commanded the Empire’s true battle forces.
These generals were loyal to Alexander not because of royal bloodlines, but because his leadership on the battlefield had been proven beyond doubt.
His equally vital supporting pillar was the Empire’s Primary Merchant Alliance–conglomerates controlling maritime and overland routes that held the supply of logistics, food provisions, and war funds for the entire realm.
Without money and supplies from this alliance, Helios’s mercenary army would not last more than three days.
Meanwhile, the Dracox Family held a very specific role of their own.
The Dracox family was not an independent military power with its own war fleet.
Their primary strength lay purely in their status as hereditary territorial rulers and pure bloodline noble leaders who were respected by tradition and ancient Imperial law.
If Alexander relied solely on the military and merchants, his position would be vulnerable to attacks as a ‘military rebel lacking territorial legitimacy.’ But by bringing the Dracox family into his fold, he locked down the territorial law and political legitimacy over the region.
This division of power was crucial for Alexander.
He deliberately kept the Dracox family from becoming overly dominant on the military side, because if Dracox controlled everything, then amid the political turmoil–and his future romantic entanglements, Alexander would appear weak, as if he were nothing without the full backing of the Dracox family.
Alexander maintained independent control over the military and economy, while Dracox complemented him in terms of territorial legitimacy and pure nobility.
“Prepare for departure tonight,” Alexander commanded suddenly.
Hugo looked surprised.
“To where, Your Highness?
To the generals’ headquarters in the south?”
“To the Dracox estate,” Alexander answered coldly.
“But…
the Empress has tightened security around the inner palace.
She demands that you attend the banquet with the central noble factions tomorrow evening.”
Alexander fixed Hugo with an absolute, unyielding gaze.
“Let Mother handle those two-faced nobles at the dinner banquet.
My presence at Dracox right now is a matter of Imperial survival.
If I hold official support from Grand Duke Dracox as the territorial ruler in the open, traditional law will favor me and prevent the neutral factions from daring to back Helios’s treason.”
It was a flawless political pretext–a chess move that even the Empress could not refute.
The Empress would not be able to forbid or halt his return to Dracox if the reason was to secure territorial legitimacy to save the throne from the Emperor’s assassination.
Yet, behind that flawless, strategic, and heroic political pretext…
only Alexander and Hugo knew the actual truth.
Beneath the cold calculations of a Crown Prince lay a deep and urgent personal motive.
Alexander needed the Dracox status to complete his political arsenal, but his starved soul…
needed Elena Rose.
The thoughts of Helios’s complex treason and his mother’s suffocating pressure were making his head throb.
And the only thing capable of numbing the emptiness in his chest, the only ‘sanctuary’ where he could unleash his darkness and dominance, was a girl with dull crimson hair currently busy drawing water at the Dracox estate.
He missed Elena.
He missed the fear mixed with defiance in her amber eyes.
He missed how her soft, plump body trembled in his embrace.
He wove this territorial diplomatic agenda into the perfect cover to satisfy the longing that had tortured him for the past eight days.
Knock!
Knock!
Knock!
The study door was suddenly knocked from the outside.
A palace guard announced the arrival of the Empress, who was seeking an audience.
Alexander adjusted the collar of his luxurious shirt, signaling Hugo to conceal the tactical map.
The Empress stepped inside in her magnificent regal gown, her face still painted with anxiety from Helios’s provocation at the council meeting earlier that morning.
“Alexander, I heard from the guards that you summoned military generals at this hour.
What is–”
“I am leaving for the Dracox estate tonight, Mother,” Alexander interrupted directly, standing tall with his back to the grand window.
The Empress’s eyes widened in shock.
“What?!
Are you mad?!
While Helios is provoking the nobles in the capital, you want to head off to that distant province again?!
I have arranged an important banquet for tomorrow!”
“Helios is not merely provoking, Mother,” Alexander said in a hauntingly low tone.
He stepped closer to his mother, his eyes narrowing.
“Helios is planning the assassination of His Majesty the Emperor and plotting treason with the northern faction.”
Alexander’s words struck the Empress like a bolt out of the blue.
Her breathtakingly beautiful face turned deathly pale.
She took a step back in sheer shock.
“W-what…
An assassination…?” the Empress whispered stumblingly, placing a trembling hand over her pounding chest.
“I require an official statement of endorsement from Grand Duke Dracox as the highest territorial ruler.
Simultaneously, I have already instructed my independent military generals and the merchant alliance to mobilize,” Alexander explained with a dense, irrefutable argument.
“Your dinner banquet will mean nothing if our heads are impaled on the palace gates next week.”
The Empress was rendered completely speechless.
All the objections and political directives she had meticulously arranged crumbled before this horrific reality.
She stared at her son, taking in the resolve and dark authority radiating from him.
“How long will you be there?” the Empress asked, her voice trembling as she fought back panic.
“As quickly as I can.
Once the Dracox territorial endorsement is finalized and the consolidation of my independent military forces is complete, I will return to destroy Helios to the very root,” Alexander answered calmly.
The Empress closed her eyes, released a heavy breath, and nodded slowly.
“Go.
Secure the Dracox legitimacy.
I will hold the line in the capital and pretend you are conducting a covert inspection.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
The moment the Empress stepped out of the room with her body still trembling, Alexander turned back to face the dark night outside the window.
A dark, dangerous smirk carved itself onto his lips.
A major political crisis had been exploited with absolute perfection.
The Empress would no longer question his departure, Helios would be preoccupied with his treasonous preparations that were already compromised, and all the two-faced noble factions would soon witness who held the true power.
Alexander retrieved his black velvet cloak from the chair, buttoning it with deliberate, elegant movements.
“The horses are prepared at the rear gate, Your Highness,” Hugo reported, standing by his side once more.
“Good,” Alexander whispered.
His blue eyes flashed with pure hunger in the dark.
The political tensions in the palace were indeed burning, but the fire consuming his chest to back Elena Rose into a corner at the Dracox estate raged far hotter than anything else.
“Let us ride, Hugo.
Someone at Dracox must surely be missing her prince.”
With steady strides and his cloak rustling in the night wind, the Crown Prince stepped out of the palace–heading toward the greatest political battle of his life, and toward the place where his woman awaited.
See you in the next chapter!