The Royal Assembly was already in session when Lucien entered.
Seven figures sat around the long black table.
The Elder Council.
They had been advising kings for generations.
Some had inherited their positions.
Others had earned them through years of political service.
All of them had one thing in common.
They believed they knew what was best for the kingdom.
Lucien took his seat at the head of the table.
“Let’s begin.”
The High Elder folded his hands.
“Your Majesty, the Council has concerns.”
Lucien sighed.
“You always do.”
A few of the Elders exchanged glances.
The Traditionalist spoke first.
“The royal engagement.”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
The Elder blinked.
“We haven’t even explained—”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
Lucien leaned back.
“I will not announce a wedding simply because the Council wants one.”
The War Elder frowned.
“This is not merely about a wedding.”
“Then explain.”
The Diplomat spoke.
“The Arclayne family has supported the throne for generations.”
“I know.”
“The marriage would strengthen several noble alliances.”
“I know.”
“It would reassure the old houses.”
Lucien’s eyes hardened.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Silence.
“The kingdom does not need reassurance from families who believe their support gives them ownership over the throne.”
The Bloodline Elder leaned forward.
“Tradition matters.”
“So does change.”
“Change can destabilize a kingdom.”
“So can refusing to change.”
The High Elder watched Lucien carefully.
“You’ve been challenging the Council’s authority for months.”
Lucien smiled without humor.
“Because the Council has been exercising authority it was never given.”
The Strategist’s expression darkened.
“We have protected this kingdom longer than you have been alive.”
“And I respect that.”
Lucien stood.
“But protecting the kingdom doesn’t mean controlling it.”
He placed several documents on the table.
“From today onward, royal appointments will no longer require Council approval.”
The room erupted.
“You cannot—”
“This violates tradition—”
“The old houses will object—”
Lucien raised one hand.
The room fell silent.
“They may object.”
He looked around the table.
“They’re allowed to.”
Then he sat again.
“That’s what freedom looks like.”
Across the city, Liora was having a much less impressive battle.
She was fighting with a curtain.
“Why won’t you stay up?”
She pulled it again.
She stared at it.
“I hate you.”
A servant passing by stopped.
“Are you talking to the curtain?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It started it.”
The servant laughed.
Liora picked up the curtain.
“Help me.”
By noon, the mansion was unusually quiet.
Liora had finished most of her work and was sitting in the library.
She had discovered that the palace library contained books on almost everything.
Magic.
History.
Medicine.
Politics.
Ancient kingdoms.
Even cooking.
She picked up a book about Varethis.
She had never really thought about the kingdom beyond the markets and streets she knew.
The first pages described the founding of Varethis.
Ancient demon clans.
Territories.
Wars.
Treaties.
The establishment of the royal bloodline.
Liora turned another page.
Then paused.
There was a section about magical bloodlines.
She read quietly.
Some families were known for elemental magic.
Some for healing.
Some for physical enhancement.
Others possessed abilities unique to their bloodlines.
Liora frowned.
She didn’t remember ever learning much about her own family.
She turned the page.
A list of ancient houses appeared.
Vaelthorne.
Arclayne.
Several others.
Then—
Elaris.
Liora stopped.
The name felt familiar.
She read the description.
An ancient bloodline once known as Keepers of the Arcane.
She stared at the page.
Something about those words made her head ache.
She quickly closed the book.
“Not today.”
She pushed it away.
She didn’t notice the faint silver glow beneath her fingertips.
That evening, Lucien returned from the Assembly.
He entered the mansion looking exhausted.
Liora spotted him immediately.
“You look terrible.”
He stopped.
“Good evening to you too.”
“You’ve had a bad day.”
“You could say that.”
She followed him into the dining room.
“Did the Council annoy you?”
“They usually do.”
“Did you win?”
Lucien looked at her.
“I changed three royal regulations.”
Liora smiled.
He almost smiled.
“I suppose.”
She placed dinner in front of him.
“Eat.”
He looked at the food.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Very much.”
He began eating.
After a few moments, Liora sat across from him.
“What did you change?”
Lucien hesitated.
“Things concerning the Council.”
“Good things?”
“I believe so.”
“Then why do you look like someone died?”
“Because changing old systems is rarely pleasant.”
Liora nodded.
“My family was like that.”
Lucien looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever someone suggested changing anything, my parents said, ‘That’s how things have always been.'”
She shrugged.
“Sometimes ‘that’s how things have always been’ is just another way of saying nobody wants to try something better.”
Lucien stared at her.
Then smiled.
“You’re surprisingly wise.”
Liora gasped.
“Did the Demon King just compliment me?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.”
The following morning, Liora was in the garden when a messenger arrived.
He bowed.
“Miss Marlowe.”
She looked around.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
He handed her a sealed envelope.
Liora frowned.
“What’s this?”
“A message from the palace.”
She opened it.
Her eyes widened.
It was another invitation.
But this one wasn’t from Lucien.
It carried the seal of the Arclayne family.
Liora read the message.
Lady Vivienne Arclayne requests your presence for afternoon tea.
Liora stared at it.
“Why does a noblewoman want tea with me?”
The messenger smiled politely.
“I wouldn’t know, Miss.”
Liora looked at the invitation again.
She suddenly had a very bad feeling.
Not because Vivienne had ever been unkind to her.
Quite the opposite.
But Liora had learned something important about noble families.
They rarely did anything without a reason.
She folded the invitation.
“Fine.”
The messenger bowed and left.
Liora looked toward the mansion.
Lucien wasn’t there.
For some reason, she wished he were.
Then she shook the thought away.
She was perfectly capable of handling tea.
How difficult could it be?
She had survived working for the Demon King.
Tea couldn’t possibly be worse.
She had no idea how wrong she was.