Chapter 48
Aeliana sat in the shadowed alcove of the grand council chamber, her fingers curled around the cool stone of the balcony railing. Below, the nobles of Tharx's court gathered, their voices a low murmur of power plays and half-truths. It had taken weeks of careful observation, of silent listening and whispered exchanges, but she was beginning to understand the currents that dictated the empire's politics.
Power did not move in bold proclamations. It thrived in pauses, in the weight of silence after a statement, in the shift of a gaze when alliances were tested.
Vaelkor had taught her that.
"The council is a battlefield," he had said, his voice low as he guided her through the intricacies of their world. "Every conversation is a maneuver. Every favor is a blade waiting to be used."
And so, she had waited. She had watched.
Tonight, she would make her first move.
The meeting was already in progress when she descended from her hidden perch, stepping into the chamber's full view. The nobles' murmurs quieted as they noticed her presence. Some exchanged wary glances, others barely concealed their disdain. She was an outsider, a mere concubine in their eyes, a woman who had no place in these affairs.
And yet, she stepped forward.
Tharx sat at the head of the long obsidian table, his expression unreadable as he observed her with sharp, golden eyes. He did not summon her, nor did he dismiss her. He was waiting.
A test.
Across from him, Lord Saryon was speaking, his voice a measured cadence of confidence. He was one of the more cunning nobles, a man who thrived on quiet manipulation rather than brute force. Tonight, he was arguing for a shift in the empire's trade routes, citing security risks along the existing roads.
Aeliana knew better.
She had spent the past week poring over trade manifests, analyzing the flow of goods, tracing the shifting loyalties of merchants. She had noticed the subtle discrepancies-the shipments that never arrived, the taxes that were adjusted just slightly in favor of Saryon's allies. He was not securing the empire's wealth; he was siphoning it for himself.
She waited for the right moment.
When Saryon finished speaking, the chamber remained silent for a beat, the nobles weighing his words. Aeliana took a step forward.
"My lord," she said, her voice smooth but firm, carrying across the room. "Your proposal is intriguing. But I wonder, have you accounted for the discrepancies in the recent manifests?"
Saryon turned to her, his expression carefully composed. He did not see her as a threat. Not yet.
"Discrepancies?" he echoed. "Lady Aeliana, trade is a complex matter. It is natural for minor fluctuations to occur."
"Fluctuations," she mused, tilting her head slightly. "Curious, then, that these fluctuations always seem to benefit your associates."
A murmur rippled through the chamber.
Saryon's fingers tightened around the stem of his goblet. "A bold accusation," he said, voice dangerously smooth. "And do you have proof to accompany such claims?"
Aeliana smiled, a slow, deliberate thing.
"The manifests from the last three months," she said. "I have studied them in detail. The pattern is clear-shipments rerouted under the guise of safety, yet the tariffs adjusted only when passing through territories owned by your allies." She turned, her gaze sweeping across the chamber. "If anyone cares to confirm, the records are available for all to see. Unless, of course, there is something Lord Saryon would prefer remain hidden?"
Silence.
The nobles shifted in their seats, considering her words. Some looked to Saryon for an explanation, others to Tharx, awaiting his response.
Saryon's jaw tightened. "Trade is not so simple, Lady Aeliana. There are-"
"The patterns do not lie," she interrupted, her voice calm. "You have manipulated these routes under the pretense of security, all while ensuring your allies profit at the empire's expense. Is that not true?"
Saryon hesitated. It was the barest flicker of uncertainty, but she caught it. And so did the rest of the court.
Aeliana pressed forward.
"Surely, if your motives were pure, you would have no objection to a thorough audit of these records," she said, her voice soft but relentless. "Unless, of course, you fear what might be uncovered."
A calculated gamble. She had no authority to demand such an audit, but she did not need it. The moment she cast doubt on Saryon's integrity, the court would begin to scrutinize him. And scrutiny was a blade that few survived unscathed.
Across the table, another noble, Lord Verath, leaned forward, his expression intrigued. "Perhaps Lady Aeliana has a point," he mused. "A review of the records would be a simple way to clarify any misunderstandings."
Others nodded. The weight of opinion was shifting.
Saryon's expression darkened, but he forced a smile. "Of course," he said, though his voice was strained. "If it will ease concerns, I welcome the examination."
He had no choice. To resist would be to confirm her accusations.
Aeliana met his gaze, holding it for a moment longer than was necessary. She had won.
The chamber murmured with quiet interest. Some regarded her with new respect, others with wary calculation. She had not only exposed Saryon's scheme-she had proven that she understood the game they played.
And Tharx?
He had not spoken a word. He watched her, his golden eyes unreadable, his expression as still as carved stone. Then, slowly, he leaned back in his seat, a faint smirk touching the corner of his lips.
Approval.
Aeliana exhaled slowly, careful not to betray the adrenaline thrumming in her veins. This was only the beginning.
Tonight, she had won her first victory.
But the war was far from over.