The aroma of sandalwood incense burning in the corner of the room could not mask the thick tension. Outside, a storm lashed against Obsidiana's granite walls, its thunder booming like endless war drums. Elara stood before a giant map table in Kaelen's private study. A room containing only classified documents and blood-soaked decisions.
The Eastern territories map before her was covered with red markers. This morning's report was far worse than Lord Vane's numerical sabotage. The rebellion in Astapura had become organized; they had cut off military metal supply routes and most dangerously: they were using Elara's name as a symbol of betrayal. Her people believed their princess had completely surrendered to the conquering emperor.
Kaelen stood behind the large window, staring into the darkness. He wore only a black shirt without ceremonial robes, revealing his broad shoulders and vigilant posture.
"My military could raze Astapura a second time, Elara," Kaelen's voice was low but sharp. "The cavalry could burn every remaining granary. Within a month, the rebellion would be over because there would be no humans left to hold swords."
Elara clenched her hands behind the folds of her gown, her nails pressing into her palms. "And you would lose the best metal source on this continent. Without Eastern supplies, Valerion soldiers' swords will dull within a year. You didn't call me here to discuss massacre. You know military force cannot extinguish the people's rage."
Kaelen turned. His eyes glinted under the flickering oil lamp light. He stepped closer, stopping directly across the map table. "Your people consider you a traitor. Their hatred is fuel. If I kill them, I lose assets. If I let them be, my empire looks weak."
Kaelen placed a parchment scroll with a black wax seal on the table. The imperial seal.
Elara reached out, her fingers touching the cold, rough parchment surface. This wasn't merely an assignment letter; this was official acknowledgment that she was now part of Valerion's power structure.
"I need a face they recognize to dampen this fire. I need someone who understands the clan structure in the East to break their alliance from within. Elara, I no longer need you as a clerk. I need you as Imperial Envoy for the Eastern Territories."
Elara stared at the scroll. Becoming an envoy meant she would stand on the front lines as the butcher's right hand.
"You want me to extinguish the fire you yourself ignited," Elara said coldly.
"I want you to secure the empire's interests that now protect your life," Kaelen replied without emotion. "Don't deceive yourself. If I fall, or if the Eastern territories break away, Lord Vane and his faction will ensure you're hanged in the square before sunrise. You are bound to me."
Elara took a long breath. The air in the room felt dry and thin. That bitter reality struck her; she had no choice but to go deeper into this political vortex.
"If I accept this, I need an official mandate that cannot be challenged by the council of ministers," Elara began her negotiation with a now firmer voice. "I need full access to military intelligence archives. And Martha... remove her from my room. I cannot work with a spy breathing down my neck."
Kaelen narrowed his eyes, moving one step closer until Elara could smell rain and steel from his clothing.
"I will grant you mandate and intelligence access. But Martha stays," Kaelen's voice lowered. "She's not just my eye, Elara. In a palace full of people like Lyra who want to see you dead, Martha is the reason your food hasn't been mixed with arsenic. She is your shield, even though that shield also reports to me how many times you breathe overnight."
Elara fell silent. The danger surrounding her now felt real and physical. She was caught between an emperor exploiting her and nobles wanting to eliminate her.
"Very well," Elara took the scroll, gripping it until her knuckles turned white. "I accept this mandate. Not because I'm loyal to Valerion, but because I won't let my people be slaughtered due to your generals' impatience."
"I don't need your loyalty," Kaelen said while standing upright. "Loyalty is a fragile emotion. Mutual interest is far more binding."
The next day, the announcement shook the palace. In the granite corridors, whispers of hatred transformed into restrained growls. Lady Lyra stood on the west wing balcony, crushing her silk handkerchief until it tore.
"Kaelen gave her fangs," Lyra hissed. "Stop her before she leaves the capital gates."
That afternoon, Elara sat in the library with classified military maps before her. Her heart ached seeing the list of rebel leader names who were once her father's colleagues. The door opened, Kaelen entered alone. He stopped directly in front of Elara's table, his aura of dominance filling the room.
"You've already begun working," Kaelen said.
"Time is a luxury we don't have," Elara answered without looking up, her eyes focused on the logistics routes on the map.
Kaelen bent slightly, his shadow covering Elara's map. "This is a silent contract between us. Never think of using this authority to stab me in the back."
Elara finally looked up, staring directly into Kaelen's dark eyes. There was no hesitation there. Only acknowledgment between two people forced to share territory.
"I'm smart enough to know when to fight and when to ally with the devil," Elara said.
Kaelen curved a thin, cold smile. "Good. Devils at least are consistent with their promises."
Kaelen turned and left, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor. Elara stared at the imperial stamp in her hand. This alliance had been born. Not on a bed, but atop a map of bloody warfare.