"Very well," the emperor concedes, reluctantly sheathing his sword as the tension in the room remains palpable.
However, his next action sends shockwaves through the assembly as he abruptly turns his attention to Nikolai, pointing the blade of his sword menacingly at his neck and drawing blood with a swift, calculated motion.
My heart skips a beat as rage boils within me, threatening to consume my composure. How dare he lay a hand on my boys?
How dare he?
Before I can even register my own actions, I find myself stepping forward, interposing myself between the emperor and my comrades, my body trembling with fury.
"How dare you," I seethe, my voice trembling with indignation as I meet the emperor's gaze head-on. The room falls silent, every eye fixed upon the confrontation unfolding before them.
My hands tremble with barely contained fury as I face down the most powerful man in the empire.
"The only way you will harm any of these is if I'm dead," I declare, my voice ringing out with unwavering resolve. "And I swear, if I'm dead, I'm not going down alone. I'm dragging you to hell with me."
My words hang heavy in the air, a bold challenge to the emperor's authority that reverberates through the grand chamber like a thunderclap. In response, my loyal knights draw their swords, their unwavering loyalty to me evident in their steely resolve.
Gasps of shock and terror fill the room as the gravity of my defiance sinks in. Yes, I am that insane.
As the tension in the throne room reaches its zenith, a sudden shift in the atmosphere heralds the arrival of two unexpected figures. The first is an old man, leaning heavily on a staff as he enters with an air of quiet authority. The second is a man bearing a striking resemblance to the emperor, his features etched with a steely resolve that commands attention has his sword drawn to the Emperor's throat.
"I would calm down right now, little brother," the man states firmly, his voice cutting through the tense silence like a knife. It is none other than Archduke Vincent Silverlake, the emperor's older brother, whose presence alone carries a weighty significance.
The emperor's jaw tightens as he meets his brother's gaze, a flicker of resentment flashing in his eyes. "Vincent, what's the meaning of this?" he demands, his voice laced with barely concealed hostility.
"Nothing, but it could be a civil war if you don't calm the fuck down, Emperor," the Archduke retorts, his tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm as he addresses his younger sibling by his title. His words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the precarious balance of power within the empire.
Sensing the gravity of the situation, the emperor reluctantly sheathes his sword, his expression a mask of frustration and indignation. The silence that follows is thick with tension, each member of the assembly acutely aware of the fragile peace that hangs in the balance.
As the tension in the throne room begins to dissipate, I feel a sharp pinch on my earlobe, causing me to wince in pain. Glancing over, I see the pope standing beside me, his expression stern as he chastises me for my outburst.
"I told you to calm that temper of yours, didn't I?" he scolds, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of affection.
"I'm sorry, Gramps, but you should have heard him," I reply, my frustration still evident in my tone. However, the pope's reprimand deflates some of my anger, and I find myself relenting under his gaze.
"Quentin, I apologize for my granddaughter's rudeness," the pope says, turning to address the emperor. "But in her defense, you tried to take away her beloved toys. Of course, she got mad. Let's forget this matter."
"Granddaughter?" the Emperor inquires, visibly taken aback by the revelation.
"Yes, you see, I've been so lonely for so many years," the pope explains with a hint of sadness in his voice. "I decided to adopt this feisty young lady as my granddaughter. Please forgive her. She can be quite headstrong and opinionated, but she has a good heart. It's just... a bit challenging at times."
As the pope speaks, I can't help but roll my eyes at his dramatic description of me.
"I understand," the Emperor replies stiffly, though there's a hint of discomfort in his tone.
"Great. It was going to be a hassle to change the person on the throne, just for something so minor. Glad you're smart," the pope remarks, his words laced with a subtle threat that doesn't escape anyone's notice.
The Archduke sheathes his sword with a relieved sigh. "That's a relief. Imagine I was lounging around when I was informed that I may have to step up because of your actions. I really am loving my life. Don't do something so dumb again, Kay, little brother," he chides, the relief evident in his tone.
With a tap from the Pope's staff, he disappears, leaving the throne room in a state of lingering tension.
The Pope strides purposefully towards the boys, his presence commanding attention as he stands before them.
"Look up at me," he says softly, his voice carrying a sense of authority that compels obedience. The boys comply, their gazes meeting his.
"Hmmph, I get it now," the Pope mutters begrudgingly, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone. I can't help but giggle, feeling a sense of vindication as I wrap my arm around his.
"I told you," I say triumphantly, a playful grin tugging at my lips.
"Well, let's go," the Pope declares, his tone firm yet genial. With a tap of his staff, we vanish from the throne room, leaving behind the Emperor's anger-filled visage as the last image imprinted in my mind.
*
Seething with rage, I fling my sword across the vast expanse of the throne room, the clang of metal against marble echoing through the grand chamber. How could I have been made a fool of? Me, the Emperor of this realm!
Fury coursing through my veins, I storm out of the throne room, my footsteps resounding with each heavy stride. None of the nobles or attendants dare to meet my gaze, their avoidance serving as a stark reminder of the defiance in that girl's eyes. It only serves to stoke the flames of my anger further as I navigate the labyrinthine halls of the palace.
With each step, my mind races, consumed by thoughts of retribution and humiliation. How could I have allowed myself to be so easily thwarted? The audacity of that girl and her insolent companions gnaws at my pride, fueling the inferno of fury raging within me.
As I traverse the opulent corridors, my fists clenched at my sides, I vow to regain control and restore order to my kingdom.