The stillness of the palace night was unnerving, with only the faint glow of torchlight illuminating the stone corridors as Prince Harris Pennington strode purposefully toward his meeting. The air was thick with the weight of unspoken schemes and looming decisions, and Harris's mind was sharp, already preparing for the negotiation ahead.
Tonight, he would meet with Duchess Madeline Dixon—a woman whose influence in Ustaria was matched only by her cunning. She was not married and never had been, though many had sought her hand. Instead, she had ruled her lands independently since inheriting her title from her father, and under her leadership, her duchy had become one of the wealthiest in the kingdom. Her autonomy and political acumen made her a critical player in the ongoing battle for the throne.
Harris needed her, but he knew that full political support might be too much to ask for in this first meeting. He didn't need her as an enemy, and if he could at least secure her neutrality—or better yet, her financial backing—it would be enough for now. With the backing of Duke Findlay Windsor already secured in secret, Harris was laying the foundation for his claim to the throne piece by piece.
As Harris approached the door to the private chamber, two guards standing at attention opened the door for him. The room was small, intimate, and illuminated by the soft glow of a crackling fire. Duchess Madeline stood near the hearth, her back turned toward him, the rich fabric of her gown shimmering in the warm light.
"Duchess Madeline," Harris greeted her, his voice a deep rumble as he closed the door behind him.
Madeline turned slowly, her expression poised and serene as her eyes met his. "Prince Harris," she replied, offering a polite nod. "I trust this late-hour meeting has significance beyond simple conversation."
Harris moved closer but kept his distance, his broad frame tense with the weight of his request. "We both know what's happening in the court. The question of succession is growing more urgent by the day, and the kingdom cannot afford uncertainty for much longer. I intend to secure the throne, and I need to know where you stand."
Madeline's lips curved into a faint smile, though her eyes remained cool and calculating. "Ah, so you've come to seek my allegiance."
Harris didn't mince words. "I need your full support. The wealth of your duchy and your influence among the nobles could tip the balance in my favor. Your backing would ensure that when I take the throne, the transition would be swift and unquestioned."
Madeline's expression softened slightly, but she didn't answer right away. She crossed the room to pour herself a goblet of wine, taking a slow sip before responding. "You ask much, Prince Harris. You know as well as I do that in these uncertain times, one must tread carefully. If I pledge my full support to you and you do not succeed, it would place my duchy—and my people—in danger."
Harris's jaw tightened. He had expected her hesitation, but he wasn't prepared to walk away empty-handed. "You think I won't succeed?"
"I think," Madeline replied calmly, "that the game is not yet finished. You are strong, yes, and your military successes are well known. But strength alone does not secure a kingdom. The court is divided, and many still favor Ruby. Others see David as a potential candidate. I must consider all possibilities before committing myself."
Harris's temper flared briefly at the mention of his siblings, but he kept his voice steady. "Ruby is soft. She might have the people's love, but love won't hold the kingdom together when enemies press at our borders. And David—David is nothing more than a reckless child, untested and unfit for the throne."
Madeline listened in silence, her gaze never leaving his. When he finished, she set her goblet down and took a step closer to him. "You make valid points, Harris. But my role as Duchess is to ensure the prosperity of my lands and the safety of my people. To commit fully to your cause would put both at risk. However," she paused, watching his reaction closely, "I may be willing to offer financial support."
Harris's eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued but wary. "Financial support? And in exchange, what would you ask?"
Madeline's smile grew more pronounced. "In exchange, I would ask for tax exemptions on my lands for a period of five years once you take the throne. That would allow my duchy to prosper while ensuring your reign starts with a significant financial backing."
Harris considered her words carefully. The duchy's wealth could fund his campaigns, help secure the loyalty of key nobles, and strengthen his military position. The tax exemptions she requested were not unreasonable; they would give her duchy the freedom to grow its influence without directly challenging his rule. It was a fair trade, and one that would still leave Harris in a position of power when the five years were up.
"Five years of tax exemptions," Harris repeated, his voice thoughtful. "And you'll remain neutral in the court during that time?"
Madeline inclined her head slightly. "Neutral, yes. I will not support your siblings, nor will I oppose you. My financial backing will go toward ensuring you have the resources you need, but I will not make my allegiance public until you sit on the throne."
Harris's dark eyes locked onto hers, searching for any sign of deception. But Madeline was as composed and inscrutable as ever. He knew he couldn't trust her completely—no one in the court was truly trustworthy—but this deal would give him what he needed for now.
"Very well," Harris said, his voice firm. "We have an agreement. Five years of tax exemption in exchange for your financial backing and neutrality."
Madeline smiled, pleased. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding, Prince Harris."
Harris stepped forward, his large hand extending toward her. After a brief pause, Madeline took it, their handshake sealing the bargain. It was a calculated alliance, one born not out of loyalty, but necessity. But for now, it was enough.
As their hands parted, Harris's expression hardened slightly. "Just remember, Duchess, that when I take the throne, I will remember those who helped me... and those who did not."
Madeline's smile never wavered. "I expect nothing less."
Harris gave a final nod before turning and making his way toward the door. The deal had been struck, and while he hadn't secured her full political allegiance, he had ensured that Duchess Madeline Dixon wouldn't stand in his way—and that was a victory in itself.
As the door closed behind him, Harris allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. The wealth of Madeline's duchy would strengthen his position, and her neutrality would keep her from becoming an obstacle. But he knew the battle for the throne was far from over. The court was still rife with uncertainty, and his siblings were maneuvering in the shadows.
But with Duke Findlay Windsor's secret backing and Madeline's financial support, Harris was one step closer to claiming the throne that was rightfully his.