The Imperial Court roiled with tension, its usual elaborate dances of politics replaced by naked fear and speculation. The Emperor's chambers stood empty, the magical monitoring equipment still running, still showing normal readings - which only added to the mystery.
"Impossible!" Wei the Unbreakable roared, his massive frame trembling with fury.
He stood before the Eternal Throne, where Empress Camilla sat with perfect composure despite the chaos surrounding them. "My barriers were perfect! No force in this empire could have breached them!"
The Empress's voice cut through the chamber like a frozen blade. "Clearly, Guardian Wei, your definition of 'perfect' differs from reality. Or do you suggest our Emperor simply... walked out on his own?"
The assembled courtiers drew back slightly. Wei's face darkened, magical energy crackling around his clenched fists. Lesser nobles would have crumbled before his rage, but the Empress simply raised an elegant eyebrow.
"Twelve years," Wei growled. "Twelve years I defended the Northern March. Not one breach. Not one failure. I've stopped armies, demons, and things that have no names. My Adamant Shield has never fallen."
"And yet," the Empress observed coldly, "here we are. The Emperor gone, your defences apparently worthless, and you offer nothing but excuses."
"My barriers weren't breached," Wei insisted. "They weren't disrupted or overcome. It's as if... as if whoever took him simply ignored them completely. Passed through them like they weren't even there."
The Empress's fingers tightened imperceptibly on the throne's armrest. "Are you suggesting someone found a way to bypass your supposedly impenetrable defences? That your life's work, your proudest achievement, has been rendered meaningless by some unknown power?"
Each word struck like a physical blow. Wei's massive shoulders slumped slightly. "The readings show no disruption. No magical signature. Nothing. It's not possible. It's just... not possible."
"And yet," the Empress repeated, her voice carrying to every corner of the throne room, "our Emperor is gone. Tell me, Guardian Wei - what value is an unbreakable shield that fails to protect its charge?"
The gathered nobles watched in horrified fascination as one of the empire's legendary warriors was systematically demolished by the Empress's words. Some remembered Wei from their own service in the Imperial military, leading armies against impossible odds. Now he stood broken not by blade or spell, but by the precise cruelty of Imperial politics.
"I offer my life in atonement," Wei said finally, sinking to his knees.
"Your life?" The Empress's laugh held no warmth. "Oh no, Guardian. You will live with this failure. You will serve as a reminder that even the mightiest can fall. Now leave my sight. Your presence offends me."
As Wei stumbled from the throne room, the Empress turned her attention to her next victim. "Bring in the traitor."
Duke Draconus was barely recognisable. The proud noble who had challenged the Emperor was now bound in chains, new arcane and horrible magical binding runes were carved into his flesh. The Mark of Submission blazed on his face, a constant reminder of his defeat.
"My husband's disappearance is quite convenient for your house, wouldn't you say?" the Empress inquired almost conversationally.
"I have been in your dungeons," Draconus replied, his voice raspy from disuse. "My magic bound, my movements monitored every second. How could I possibly-"
"Perhaps a message to collaborators? A signal through that precious bond you share with your wyverns? Or maybe..." her voice turned thoughtful, "your daughter's access to the Fourth Prince gave her a chance to strike?"
"Leave Valerie out of this," Draconus growled, showing the first real emotion since his imprisonment. "She's innocent."
"Innocent?" The Empress smiled coldly. "Like you were innocent of attempting to poison my husband? Oh wait - that was never proven, was it? Just strongly suspected. How fortunate that the Emperor's disappearance prevents any further investigation into that matter."
"I did not poison the Emperor," Draconus stated firmly. "And I had nothing to do with his disappearance. The Mark prevents me from lying - test it if you doubt me."
The Empress waved a hand dismissively. "Take him back to his cell. And double the guard on his daughter when she returns from her... excursion with the Fourth Prince, I want her movements restricted."
As Draconus was led away, the Empress allowed herself a small sigh. Somewhere in this web of plots and counter-plots, someone had outmanoeuvred her. It was almost admirable, really. Almost.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
In the healing wing's private chambers, Bartholomew lay propped up on pillows, his once-powerful frame wasted by magical backlash. The room's enchanted crystals pulsed weakly, matching his damaged aura core's erratic rhythm.
"You look terrible," Lyanna observed, sprawling gracefully in a nearby chair. "I'd say this is what happens when you underestimate opponents, but..." she smiled wickedly, "you always looked terrible to me."
"Lyanna," Aether warned softly. "This isn't helping."
"What would help, dear brother? Should I coddle him? Pet his head and tell him it's not his fault our bastard brother shattered his core?" She leaned forward, her eyes glinting. "Or should I remind him that his weakness has cost us a valuable piece in our game?"
"Game?" Bartholomew's voice was barely a whisper. "Our father is missing, and you talk of games?"
"Everything is a game," Lyanna replied. "Position, power, succession - it's all just pieces on a board. And now the Emperor piece has vanished, throwing everything into chaos." She smiled. "Wonderful chaos."
"You're enjoying this," Aether accused quietly.
"Of course I am! Don't you see? This accelerates everything. The nobles are terrified, the military is confused, and our dear mother..." Lyanna's smile widened. "She's absolutely furious that someone has disrupted her carefully laid plans."
"The succession-" Bartholomew began.
"Is more certain than ever," Lyanna cut him off. "Think about it. Father missing, presumed dead. I was already named Crown Princess. Who else could possibly take the throne? You?" She laughed. "You can barely channel enough aura to lift a feather. Aether? Please. The nobles would never accept a middling mage as Emperor. And Mikhail?" Her laughter turned scornful. "That bastard may have some power, but he has no support among the great houses."
"The military might back him," Aether pointed out. "After his display in the arena..."
"The military follows strength," Lyanna dismissed the concern. "And I am the strongest here, the undefeated Crown Princess. The nobles will rally to me, if only to prevent civil war."
"You sound very certain," Bartholomew whispered.
"I am certain." Lyanna stood, moving to the window. "Everything is proceeding exactly as it should. Father's disappearance simply... expedites matters."
"And if he returns?" Aether asked carefully.
"Then we deal with that if it happens. But for now..." She turned back to her brothers, her smile sharp as a blade. "For now, we prepare. The empire cannot be left without leadership for long. Someone will have to step forward and maintain order during this tragic time."
"You're talking about regency," Aether realized.
"Initially, yes. Mother will support my claim - she has no choice now. The nobles will fall in line. And then..." She shrugged elegantly. "Well, if our beloved father never returns, the empire will still need a ruler."
"You're playing a dangerous game, sister," Bartholomew warned.
"No, dear brother," Lyanna's voice turned cold. "I'm winning a dangerous game. There's a difference." She moved to the door, then paused. "Oh, and Bartholomew? Do try to recover some of your strength. I'd hate to have to explain to the nobles why I had to have my own brother executed for incompetence."
After she left, Aether turned to Bartholomew. "She's changed."
"No," Bartholomew replied softly, staring at his useless hands. "She's finally showing her true self. The question is - what do we do about it?"
Aether had no answer.