Chapter 43
The court was already waiting for her when she entered the grand assembly hall.
Aeliana had been in this room before-but never like this.
The chamber, an imposing structure of dark stone and intricate carvings, was filled with the empire's highest-ranking nobles, warriors, and scholars. Gold banners hung from the ceiling, bearing Tharx's sigil, flickering in the torchlight. The circular seating arrangement, designed to create the illusion of order and diplomacy, instead felt like the stage of an execution.
Every seat was occupied, and every pair of eyes locked onto her the moment she stepped inside.
She knew what they saw. A human in a place where no human should stand.
She could almost hear the venom in their unspoken thoughts.
She had no right to be here.
She had no right to be anywhere near their king.
And yet, here she was.
At the far end of the hall, Tharx sat upon his throne, draped in dark, ceremonial robes. His face was carved from stone, his expression unreadable as he observed the proceedings from above.
Aeliana exhaled slowly, steadying herself. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her falter.
She walked forward, her steps measured, controlled. The long crimson fabric of her gown trailed behind her, the only sound in the silent hall the soft drag of silk against marble.
She had faced their whispers.
She had endured their judgment.
But now, she had to do more than endure.
She had to prove she belonged.
The assembly began with formalities-reports on trade agreements, border disputes, military operations. Aeliana listened, careful to observe the flow of conversation, how each noble measured their words, how each exchange was more of a battle than a discussion.
Then, the attention shifted to her.
A noble rose from his seat, an older man with pale, silver-streaked skin and a gaze as sharp as a blade. Lord Seraxes, one of the more vocal traditionalists.
"I assume," he began smoothly, "that the human has been granted the privilege of speaking today?"
A ripple of quiet laughter coursed through the chamber.
Aeliana's fingers curled at her sides.
She could feel Tharx watching her.
She lifted her chin. "I assume you wouldn't waste your time addressing me if I hadn't."
The chuckle that followed was less amused now.
Lord Seraxes regarded her, clearly unimpressed. "Tell us, then. You come from a world of no consequence. What wisdom could a human possibly offer a kingdom that has thrived for millennia?"
There it was.
The trap.
If she answered too aggressively, they would call her arrogant.
If she answered too passively, they would call her weak.
But Aeliana had learned something from Tharx in the time she had been at his side. Silence was power. Let them speak first, let them think they had control. Then strike.
So she waited.
The pause stretched long enough for the nobles to shift in their seats.
Finally, she tilted her head slightly. "You call my world insignificant," she said. "And yet, it was significant enough for your people to take it."
A flicker of surprise.
She didn't let them recover. "I may not know your customs as you do, but I know what it means to survive when everything you once knew is taken from you. I know what it means to adapt, to fight, to earn a place in a world that does not want you."
She let her gaze drift across the room, meeting the eyes of those who wanted to see her fail.
"I'm still here."
A beat of silence.
Then, another voice spoke.
"If you wish to be taken seriously, perhaps you should prove you are more than just the king's pet."
Aeliana froze.
The words had come from Lady Veraxia, a noblewoman with sleek, iridescent skin and a smile as sharp as a dagger. The insult hung in the air, waiting for a response.
Aeliana felt the weight of every gaze pressing into her. Expecting her to break.
She refused.
She took a step forward, her heart hammering. "And what would you suggest?" she asked, voice even. "Would you prefer I fight in your wars? Bleed for your empire?" She arched a brow. "Or is your concern that I already have the king's favor, and you do not?"
A hush fell over the room.
Lady Veraxia's lips curled slightly, displeased.
Aeliana didn't dare look at Tharx, but she could feel the tension radiating from where he sat.
The discussion continued, but the atmosphere had changed. They knew now that she would not be ignored.
She had not won.
But she had held her ground.
The court had finally adjourned, but Aeliana barely made it down the hallway before she heard his voice.
"You overstepped."
She turned to see Tharx watching her from the shadows, his golden eyes unreadable.
Aeliana exhaled sharply. "I held my own."
Tharx stepped closer, and the flickering torchlight made the sharp planes of his face even more severe. "You drew attention."
"I was already under their scrutiny," she snapped. "Did you expect me to stand there and let them tear me apart?"
Tharx's jaw tightened.
He was close now. Too close.
"Be careful," he said, voice lower now. "They will not stop testing you."
Aeliana swallowed hard, refusing to back down. "Why are you doing this?"
Tharx's expression did not change. "You belong here."
It was not the answer she wanted.
She took a slow breath. "I belong here," she repeated, eyes narrowing. "But not as your equal. Just as something you protect. Something you claim."
Tharx said nothing.
That hesitation-that one second of silence-was enough.
She let out a bitter breath and shook her head. "I decide who I am, Tharx. Not you. Not them."
She stepped back, turning before she could let herself dwell on the way he was looking at her-as if she had become something dangerous, something he wasn't sure he could control.
But the moment lingered between them, heavy and unresolved.
And Aeliana knew, without a doubt, that this was only the beginning.