I gazed down at the sea of bent backs. Everyone was on one knee, their heads bowed low in submission.
Ah, look at Lucian.
I glanced down at the man beside me. The same man who, just last night, had coldly told me not to expect affection or warmth. And yet, here he was, kneeling on the hard marble to ensure my legitimacy.
Talk about mixed signals.
My eyes swept over the rows of knights. And there he was—Grandpa Eldric. He knelt at the very front of the armored formation, his white head bowed low.
So he leads them, I realized. The Grand Commander of the Imperial Knights.
The Azure Concord felt heavy against my collarbone, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic heat. I could feel it—the sheer, intoxicating weight of power. But underneath that rush, the danger was screaming at me. This necklace wasn't just a gift; it was a target.
The silence stretched. A beat too long. The air grew thick with anticipation.
Wait... They aren't moving.
Panic flared in my chest. They are waiting for me! I have to say something, right? I can't just leave them on the floor forever!
I desperately glanced toward the bottom of the dais. Kaelen still had his head bowed, but his eyes flicked up, meeting mine for a split second.
He gave me a single, sharp nod.
Got it.
I drew in a deep breath, pushing down the urge to voice crack. I straightened my spine, channeling every ounce of the Empress's steel I had just witnessed.
"Rise," I commanded.
My voice didn't tremble. It rang out clear and absolute, echoing off the gilded walls.
Everyone raised their heads.
As the court rose, a ripple swept through the hall. I caught their eyes—some were curious, some were calculating, but a few were sharp enough to cut glass. They stared at the necklace, then at me, with barely concealed disdain.
Wow. Looks like I just made some powerful enemies without even trying.
Behind me, I heard the rustle of silk as Empress Seraphine settled back onto her throne, her part in this play finished—for now.
The Grand Herald stepped forward, his voice booming once more to recite the Oath of Binding.
"In the glory of the First Flame of the Sun, the Founder of the Eryndor Empire—Emperor Aurelion Aetherion—and the Mother of Eryndor, the Light of the Empire, Lysandra Aetherion."
The heavy names echoed off the marble walls.
"Today, before His Imperial Majesty Alric Aetherion, Her Imperial Majesty Seraphine Aetherion, and all the Pillars of the Empire..."
He turned to face me directly, holding a golden scroll.
"Her Highness, Consort Cyrina Vaeloria. Do you accept the weight of the responsibilities that accompany your station? Do you swear to serve the Empire and the well-being of its people with unwavering loyalty and absolute honesty?"
The hall fell deadly silent again. Every ear was straining to hear if the "Elf" would stumble.
I looked at the Herald, then past him to the sea of nobles.
Loyalty. Honesty. Well-being.
Huge words for a girl who was just trying not to trip over her dress. But I didn't have a choice.
I raised my chin.
"I do."
I kept my voice steady, projecting it just like the Empress.
"I swear to uphold the dignity of my station," I declared, letting the words ring through the hall.
"I pledge to serve the Empire and its citizens with loyalty and honesty. My every action shall be dedicated to the well-being of the people."
Yeah. Just the people.
Internally, I rolled my eyes. I wasn't about to break my back for this "Empire"—or for the nobles staring daggers at me like I'd stolen their birthright.
If they thought "loyalty" meant I'd let them walk all over me, they were in for a rude awakening. I really didn't give a damn about their politics.
But outwardly? I looked the picture of solemn dedication.
Damn, I adapt quickly, don't I? I thought, fighting the urge to smirk. That actually sounded like something the Empress would say.
I guess I should thank Her Majesty for that terrifying personal bath session. I can actually pull off a few royal lines now.
The Grand Herald raised his gold-shod staff and struck it once against the marble floor.
Boom.
The sound cracked through the hall like a clap of thunder, demanding absolute attention.
"In witness of the Sun Throne," he proclaimed, his voice carrying to every corner of the room, "do you acknowledge Her Highness, Princess Cyrina Vaeloria, as Imperial Consort of Eryndor?"
For half a heartbeat, no one moved. The air hung suspended.
Then—like a tide pulled by command—the answer came.
"We acknowledge."
The words rolled forward in a controlled wave. Polished. Practiced. Empty.
The Herald's gaze swept the hall, unyielding.
"Do you swear loyalty to her authority, granted beneath the Sun Throne?"
This time, the response was immediate.
"We swear."
Silk brushed against marble. Armor clinked. Fans snapped shut as nobles pressed their fists to their chests in a synchronized display of obedience.
"Do you vow to honor the Imperial Consort as protector of the Empire's dignity and future?"
The final chant thundered through the hall, a wall of sound that vibrated against my ribs.
"We vow."
The sound was overwhelming—hundreds of voices speaking the same lie with perfect discipline.
The words echoed back at me, climbing the pillars, sinking into the cold blue stone at my throat. The Azure Concord pulsed once, warm and heavy against my skin, as if sealing their oaths—binding them to me whether they meant them or not.
I kept my expression serene. Regal. Worthy.
But inside, my pulse was racing.
Because I could hear it—the dissonance beneath the harmony. The hesitation. The resentment.
This wasn't devotion. It was compliance. And compliance breaks the moment fear is removed.
We bowed together, then took our place beside the throne.
The Grand Herald raised his staff one last time and struck it against the marble floor.
Clack.
The sound rang through the hall, sharp and final, signaling the end of the spectacle.
"Let it be known," he proclaimed, his voice carrying effortlessly to the furthest corners of the chamber, "that by the will of Their Imperial Majesties, this morning's assembly stands concluded."
He paused. Long enough to ensure every ear was straining.
"In seven days' time, under the twin banners of Eryndor and Elvanyr, a Grand Convergence shall be held within the Imperial Capital."
The court stirred—a rustle of silk, a shifting of feet. The air grew thick with hushed whispers.
"This gathering shall mark the formal celebration of unity between the Human Empire and the Elf Dominion, witnessed by envoys, nobles, and representatives of both realms."
His gaze swept the hall, cold and exacting.
"All preparations will proceed under direct Imperial authority. Attendance is mandatory."
The staff struck the floor once more, finalizing the decree.
"The court is dismissed."