Chapter 46
The shift was impossible to ignore.
It wasn't just the hushed conversations that died the moment Aeliana entered a room or the burning glares she felt at her back as she walked the halls. It was something deeper, more insidious-the very walls of the fortress seemed to hum with discontent. What was once a stronghold of silent obedience had become a breeding ground for rebellion.
She saw it in the servants who refused to meet her eyes, some scurrying past her as if her presence had poisoned the air. Others were bolder-meals left untouched, dresses mysteriously ruined, doors that had always opened for her now locked without explanation. Small inconveniences, individually insignificant, but together, they stacked like stones before an inevitable collapse.
It was in the warriors, the nobility, the court.
Where once their disdain had been carefully veiled-insults whispered behind closed doors, their contempt wrapped in false pleasantries-now, it was brazen. Their scorn no longer a secret but a sharpened blade, wielded openly.
"She will not last."
"The king has lost his way."
"The human must be removed."
The more Tharx kept her at his side, the bolder they became. And what had started as whispers had grown into something louder.
The council had been restless for weeks, but today, the tension in the grand chamber was suffocating.
Aeliana stood at the far end of the hall, watching.
She no longer expected inclusion-the nobles rarely acknowledged her unless it was to mask their disdain with feigned politeness. But that didn't mean she wasn't paying attention.
At the center of it all, Lord Kaelrith spoke, his voice smooth, measured, deceptive.
"The king's focus is divided," he said carefully, silver armor catching the torchlight. "The empire has always thrived under strong leadership. Leadership free of-distractions."
Aeliana felt the weight of every gaze shift to her.
She kept her expression still, face an unreadable mask, though her fingers curled into fists at her sides.
Tharx, seated above them on his throne, remained impossibly still. His golden eyes locked onto Kaelrith with an intensity that should have silenced the room. But today, the nobles had either forgotten their fear-
Or they no longer cared.
Lady Veraxia seized the opportunity.
"The empire does not question your rule, my king," she said, voice steeped in false reverence. "But it does question the future you are building." Her gaze flicked to Aeliana, every word a calculated insult. "A future shaped by an outsider."
Aeliana's pulse spiked.
She expected Tharx to lash out, to crush their insolence as he always had.
But he didn't.
He let them speak.
Let them expose themselves.
And that unsettled her more than anything.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, lethal.
"I rule because I am stronger than all of you."
The words were a warning. A promise.
For a moment, it seemed to work-Kaelrith and Veraxia dipped their heads, feigning submission.
But Aeliana knew better.
They weren't afraid anymore.
The first attempt came that evening.
A formal gathering, a celebration of military victories. The great hall buzzed with murmured conversation, the clinking of goblets, the ever-present undercurrent of shifting power.
Aeliana sat at Tharx's right-exactly where they didn't want her.
A servant approached, bowing as they placed a goblet before her.
She almost missed it again. Almost.
But then-the scent.
Slightly wrong. Something bitter beneath the usual sweetness of the wine.
Aeliana didn't flinch. Didn't react.She couldn't believe they had tried the exact same trick again.
Instead, she lifted the goblet, turned her head slightly-
And met Tharx's gaze.
He hadn't touched his drink. He had been waiting.
His eyes flicked to her hand, to the way her fingers rested against the base of the glass. Then back to her.
She set it down.
Without a word, he lifted his hand.
The hall fell silent.
Two guards seized the trembling servant, dragging him forward and throwing him to his knees.
He was young. Terrified.
Aeliana knew what was coming before it happened.
Tharx did not ask questions.
He did not demand explanations.
The blade struck.
The body crumpled.
And the conversation simply resumed.
Aeliana sat there, stomach twisting, willing herself not to react.
This was normal. Expected.
But it didn't change the fact that someone wanted her dead.
And they weren't going to stop trying.
The second attempt was less subtle.
Fire.
She had been in her chambers, reading, when the scent of smoke reached her.
By the time she moved to the door, flames were already licking at the threshold.
Someone had sealed it from the outside.
Aeliana's heart slammed against her ribs.
This wasn't a warning.
It was an execution.
Grabbing the nearest object-a heavy metal tray-she swung it against the door, over and over, heat searing her skin, thick smoke clawing at her lungs.
Then-a crash.
The door splintered inward, and Tharx was there, golden eyes wild, a blade in hand.
Before she could react, he pulled her against him, dragging her into the cool air of the hall.
She gasped, lungs burning, vision blurring-
But all she could focus on was him.
His grip was too tight. Too desperate.
He was furious.
Not just at the attack.
At himself.
For letting it happen.
For not stopping it before it reached her door.
When he spoke, his voice was steel.
"This will not happen again."
It wasn't a promise.
It was a threat.
Aeliana shivered. Not from fear-
But because she knew, with absolute certainty-
The war for power had begun.
And she was caught in the middle.
The next morning, Tharx tightened his grip.
Two guards at all times.
No movement without his knowledge.
Her protests meant nothing.
"You are vulnerable," he told her, voice like iron. "Until that changes, you will do as I say."
Aeliana met his gaze, chest rising and falling with unspoken defiance.
And then, finally-she made a decision.
She could not simply be protected.
She had to protect herself.
If she was going to survive this empire, this war-this man-
She had to learn how to fight.