The chamber grew heavy with silence. The golden firelight flickered against the walls, painting the Empress in a glow that only sharpened her beauty, and her cruelty.
Priscilla's fingers, still lifting Lucas's chin, stilled. Her cold eyes narrowed, studying him as though he were a foolish child.
"A smile?" she repeated, her tone low, unreadable. "Of all things I could grant you—lands, titles, women—you dare waste your request on something so… trivial?"
Her hand dropped abruptly, and Lucas's head bowed once more. Yet his voice was steady, almost reverent.
"Because it is the only thing this empire cannot take from me, Your Highness. Only you can give it. Only you."
Her lips parted, as though to answer—but a sharp knock shattered the moment.
"Your Majesty," a servant's voice called from behind the heavy doors. "The council awaits you in the war chamber. News has come from the eastern border."
For the briefest instant, irritation flickered across Priscilla's face. She turned her back on Lucas, her crimson gown whispering across the floor.
"Dress yourself," she ordered, her tone clipped and cold once more. "Your bruises will not excuse you from duty. You are my sword, Lucas, not my beggar."
Lucas rose, his shirt pulled once more across scarred flesh. He bowed deeply, hiding the sting of her words.
"As you command, my Empress."
---
The war chamber was already thick with tension when Priscilla entered. The high table stretched across the room, lined with generals and councilors robed in velvet, their jeweled hands fidgeting nervously as she took her seat at the head.
All bowed deeply, though some with reluctance. At her right hand stood Lucas, armored and silent, his presence as sharp as the blade he carried.
A gray-haired councilor cleared his throat. "Your Majesty… reports from the eastern border. Villages burned, soldiers slaughtered. The kingdom of Rauthen denies involvement, but…" He hesitated under her icy stare. "…the signs point to them. They test our strength."
Murmurs spread across the table. "War?" "We are not prepared—" "The treasury is strained—"
Priscilla raised a single hand. Silence fell like an axe.
"Rauthen believes Calmaria weak because its throne is held by a woman." Her voice was steady, cold, slicing through the chamber. "They mistake my youth for fragility. They will learn the cost of their mistake."
One of the younger generals shifted uneasily. "But, Your Majesty… if we march to war now, the nobles will resist taxation. The people already starve. To press further may spark rebellion."
Priscilla's lips curved—not into a smile, but something sharper. "Rebellion? Then let them rebel. I would rather rule over corpses than bow to weakness, beside if the people have a problem with my decision let them cut their tongues off for all I care."
The chamber shuddered with silence. None dared answer her.
Only Lucas's voice broke through, firm and loyal. "Then give the order, and I will march at your side until Rauthen kneels."
Her eyes flicked to him for the briefest instant, unreadable as ever. Then she rose, her crimson cloak sweeping the floor.
"Prepare the armies," she commanded. "Calmaria does not wait to be struck. We strike first."
The councilors bowed in trembling silence, but as the Empress swept from the chamber, Lucas caught the lingering glares of envious nobles. To them, he was only a commoner elevated too high, too close to their sovereign.
He ignored them. His eyes remained fixed on Priscilla's retreating figure, his heart whispering the same dangerous vow.
I will fight for you. I will bleed for you. And even if the world burns, I will never let you fall.
---
Immediately as the sun sets up preparation for battle begins as the clang of steel echos through the training ground. Rows of soldier moved in unison, their swords their swords flashing under the morning sun, shields raised as captains barked orders. The smell of sweat and iron hung heavy in the air. At the center of it all stood Lucas Darcy.
His blade cut through the air with terrifying precision, every strike faster than the last. Soldiers watched in awe as he disarmed three armored knights in a blur of motion, his movements as fluid as water, as relentless as fire.
"The greatest knight," they whispered.
"Her Empress's dog," others muttered bitterly.
Lucas ignored both. His only focus was the command that echoed in his mind: Prepare the armies. Strike first.
As the soldiers dispersed, a shadow fell across the grounds. The chatter died instantly.
Empress Priscilla.
She did not wear armor, yet her presence silenced the field more effectively than any general. Dressed in obsidian silk trimmed with scarlet, her crown glinting beneath the pale sun, she moved with the grace of someone who had long ceased to question her own power.
"Your Majesty." a black hair middled aged woman, who is the head of maids dropped to her knee.
"What is it Nina?" Priscilla asked even if she wants looking interested in why Nina was kneeing with trembling feet's.
"Please your Majesty, spare Mercy on my son who's going to be killed by the soldiers on the day of war" Nina said with cracked voice stained from tears and a broken heart.
"Is your son a villager or a knight of the Kingdom of Rauthen?" She finally had a glimpse of interest which faded instantly "Yes your Majesty he's a villager there, who lives in the kingdom with his wife and two son as a baker, he's innocent" Nina still with her head bowed dared not look up.
"But he's married to my enemy and I don't let my enemies live to see sunlight or their next war. Fine I give you two days to go get your son and his family and you shall be escorted" Priscila stood up as she walked down the stairway "But if words come out that were bringing war to them, I won't hesitate to kill your son and his family and make you watch it" Her words immediately send shivers of fear into Nina as she burst out in tears before getting up as walking away from the Presence of the Empress.
"You've been standing there for a while now Lucas what is it?" He met her eyes then his voice steadys "we are ready whenever you are, just give the command and me and the knight will attack"
"Lucas tell me do you believe they can die for me like you would?" She asked her tone cool almost indifferent.
"No your Majesty, they are loyal to their wages, their families, their honor. But I am only loyal to you"
For a brief moment she stared blankly at him as if trying to process his words before breaking the silence with a cruel laught.
"You really are a foolish one, well that's good cause loyalty that bend is not loyalty at all" She took a few steps closer to him, so near he could feel her breath on his cheek as she kissed his ear "Tonight the council dine in my hall, while you shall spend the night with me" she kissed his lips for a few seconds that is fueled by lust rather than love.
"As you command your Majesty" his body immediately responded to her kiss as he aware this is just going to be another night to satisfy her body rather than his bleeding heart, but to him a night like this is greater than heaven.