The morning after Lady Patricia's bold, futile attempt to shake him, Riven shared the entire encounter with Vaelorian, who listened with a simmering mixture of fury and admiration.
"She propositioned you?" Vaelorian asked, his voice low and dangerous. "In your own chambers? She truly has no shame."
"She has no fear, that's what it is." Riven corrected, finishing buttoning his tunic. "And she has the wrong understanding of our commitment to each other. But this ends today. We are leaving House Veridian with an alliance, not an open rivalry."
Riven's strategy was simple: Duke Corvus cared about reputation and profits. Riven would ensure that the cost of Lady Patricia's continued attempts in getting into Vaelorian's pants became exponentially higher than the benefit of an Imperial alliance.
Duke Corvus held a grand, ostentatious feast the next evening to formally celebrate and welcome the Crown Prince and his betrothed. Riven was on high alert.
The dinner was a parade of Veridian wealth, and Lady Patricia was relentless in flirting with Vaelorian. She dedicated herself to ignoring Riven while simultaneously undermining Vaelorian's faith in him.
"It's fascinating, Your Highness," Lady Patricia cooed across the table, leaning into Vaelorian. "Lord Riven's reports are excellent, but I heard General Korvan considered his methods… unconventional. So much risk, when caution is so vital to the Crown."
Riven remained respectful and tolerant, sipping his wine, letting the comments land. Vaelorian, however, was bristling.
"Lady Patricia, I absolutely trust Riven's judgment. He knows how to get the job done, his results have spoken for him." Vaelorian stated, his voice was sharp.
Lady Patricia smiled, her eyes shining with malice. "Results at what cost, though? I often wonder, if Lord Riven weren't so... emotionally invested in you, would his decisions be clearer? He must be so worried about losing his newfound position."
That was the line. Riven had reached his limit. He placed his glass down with a quiet clink that drew the attention of the entire long table.
Riven met Patricia's stare, his voice cutting and clear.
"Lady Patricia, you speak of risk and cost. I understand the calculation perfectly."
He shifted his gaze to Duke Corvus, ensuring the man who truly held the power was listening. "The Crown Prince risks nothing by investing his faith in me. As field commander I was responsible for the security of my unit, and that included eliminating General Korvan's bias, and by doing so I was able to secure the loyalty of the Northern and Western Territories through my own sweat and blood."
He turned back to Patricia, the final blow delivered with a chilling tone.
"You, Lady Patricia, are arguing against the Crown's best asset, distracting the future Emperor, and suggesting that your own House's interests are greater than the stability of the entire realm. The cost of your ambition, if left unchecked, would be the downfall of the House Veridian. That is the true risk, Duke Corvus."
The hall went silent. Duke Corvus went pale, instantly grasping the threat. His daughter had pushed Riven into presenting him with a choice: her immediate removal from his presence, or the loss of their political standing.
The Duke acted instantly. "Patricia! You will cease this nonsense immediately and retire to your chambers! You owe the Crown Prince and Lord Riven an apology!"
Patricia, finally defeated, stood up with cold fury but did as she was told. Riven had won. He didn't need to yell or duel; he just needed to clearly define the consequences of her actions. Classily putting her in her place was a victory of strategy over ego.
The next morning, Riven and Vaelorian departed with a newly submissive Duke Corvus seeing them off. The Veridian alliance was secured, built on a foundation of professional fear and undeniable logic.
Their carriages turned west, now pointed toward their next, most pivotal destination. Riven settled back against the cushions, letting out a heavy, satisfied sigh. Vaelorian reached for his hand.
"You were magnificent, my love. Absolutely magnificent," Vaelorian whispered, lifting Riven's hand to kiss his knuckles.
"I just calculated the variables," Riven replied, leaning his head on Vaelorian's shoulder, feeling the exhaustion of the past few days lift. "I'm tired of fighting people who don't understand real battle."
"No more fighting for now," Vaelorian promised. "The next stop is yours."
The countryside rushed by, familiar now, leading them to the ancestral seat of the powerful House Ashbourne. Riven looked out the window, a small smile on his face. He was returning to the House that had once made him feel like an outcast, he's returning now, not as a disappointment, but as the future Imperial Consort.
They were going home.