Chapter 14

The Emperor’s health failed quickly.

Once strong and commanding, he grew weaker each day until he finally passed, leaving the palace and the empire in mourning.

The Empress wept quietly, and ministers immediately turned their thoughts to succession. Passing of just one person turned the entire power dynamics of the court completely.

Empress was promoted to the position of Queen Mother. Vacating the seat and the palace for the upcoming Empress of the rising Emperor.

When the coronation came, Alaric wore the crown with calm authority. He looked every inch the new Emperor, and the court bowed before him with the usual words:

Long live the Emperor.

In the crowd stood Marquis Duskbane. For years, he had plotted for this moment. With the Emperor gone, his influence would grow.

His daughter, trained and polished, was meant to tie his family firmly to the throne. He was certain his plans would soon bear fruit.

He was now free and held the real power. His sister was the Queen Mother and his daughter was the upcoming Empress. The house of Duskbane was not something that anyone could look down upon.

But then all of it went crumbling when Asher entered.

He did not come dressed like a normal courtier but like a great prince who was shining only less than the emperor himself, he looked like a killing machine straight from war. His armor still carried grace, his cloak smelled of iron and smoke. The atmosphere in the hall shifted instantly—everyone moved aside to give him space.

The Marquis lowered himself in a bow, prepared to offer loyalty to the next emperor. Before he could rise, a strong hand pressed down on his shoulder.

“You look far too eager for a man in mourning, Marquis Duskbane,” Asher said quietly. His voice was calm, but dangerous.

“Don’t mistake your schemes for strength. My brother doesn’t need you—or your…”

The Marquis froze. He had faced rivals and outwitted ministers before, but Asher was different. His eyes were cold and sharp, carrying the weight of battle, not politics. One wrong move and he knew Asher would crush him without hesitation.

He was too stunned to speak. Asher the bastard son of the emperor never spoke a word in the court neither in his existence, but now… he was glowing differently. It felt as though the death of the former emperor has unleashed his restraints.

Then Alaric’s voice cut through the silence:

“In recognition of his undoubted loyalty, I name my younger brother, Magnus Asher as the Duke of Dreadborne and allow him to take after his mother, Lady Dreadborne’s family name. He alone will carry this title and all other titled Duke’s will be moved to Marquise. My brother Magnus Asher Dreadborne will be the only duke to exit during my reign as the emperor.”

The entire court was stunned. The rank of duke had never been given to only one man. It placed Asher far above the rest of the nobility.

The Marquis’s plans collapsed in that instant. Everything he had built, every scheme he had counted on—it all meant nothing now. He stumbled back as Asher passed by him, his mind racing.

For the first time in his life, the Marquis wasn’t thinking about how to gain power. Rather he was thinking about how to survive it.

⚜

The day Alaric was crowned, the Empress forced herself to smile through the ceremony, but her hands trembled behind her sleeves.

The announcement of Asher as the sole Duke of the Empire had shaken her to her core. She had expected her son to lean on her brother, Marquis Duskbane, as past emperors had leaned on the trusted family. She also dreamed about bringing Lilith as the next Empress. With those thoughts she vacated her palace in hopes of seeing Lilith and her son ruling the Empire together.

Instead, Alaric had given the highest power to the man that she could not control—It was that bastard younger brother of his.

“That bastard…” Empress was in utter rage as she was not aware of her son’s schemes.

When the court dispersed, whispers filled the halls. Some nobles muttered in awe, others in fear, but all understood one thing: the new balance of power had shifted overnight, and it was not in their favor.

Behind closed doors, the Empress’s composure broke. She stormed into her private chamber, and Alaric barely had time to remove his crown before her hand struck his cheek.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” she hissed.

“You’ve humiliated me before the entire court! You’ve shamed this family, and for what? To make that savage your only duke?”

Alaric didn’t flinch. He only lowered his gaze slightly, his tone steady.

“Mother, the Empire needs strength. No one commands loyalty like Asher.”

The words only enraged her more. She turned on Asher and threw a piece of vase towards him. It hit him hard but he stood silently in the corner, his cloak still carrying the stench of his own flowing blood.

“You!” she spat.

“You will ruin us all with your brutality. Do you think fear will hold an empire together? You will frighten the nobles who are meant to serve you!”

Asher’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. His silence only made her angrier.

“You’re no better than a weapon—useful only until you’re broken.”

Her voice cracked, but Asher did not respond. He bowed his head slightly, not out of respect, but restraint.

“First that women… now her son… I just don’t understand what spell he casted on you! How can you be so ignorant Alaric? How can you fall in his schemes and go against your own mother? Your own flesh and blood?”

Alaric stepped in before her fury could spiral further.

“Enough,” Alaric said firmly.

“You will not speak to him this way. He has earned his place. Moreover he is my brother. Our father’s blood runs through us. Though with different mothers we are still brothers.”

The Empress stared at her eldest son, disbelief and betrayal burning in her eyes. For the first time, she realized Alaric would no longer bend to her will.

Alaric stormed out of her chamber, being followed by Asher closely behind him like a shadow.

Later that night, Queen mother summoned Marquis Duskbane. He arrived pale, shaken, still reeling from Asher’s warning in the throne room.

“They’ve destroyed everything,” the Empress whispered, pacing the chamber. “Alaric refuses to listen. And Asher—he terrifies me.”

The Marquis clenched his fists.

“Terrifies us all. If he continues to rise unchecked, all our plans will crumble. He already looks at me as though he sees straight through my schemes. Sister, we must act carefully, or it will be our heads on the block.”

For the first time in years, both siblings felt cornered. The Empress’s influence was slipping, the Marquis’s ambitions shattered. And standing between them and their power was not just an emperor they could not control, but a duke they could not intimidate.

That night, after the crowning, the Empress and Marquis sat together in her private chamber, their voices hushed but urgent.

“We cannot allow Asher to rise unchecked,” the Marquis muttered, pacing the rug thin.

“The boy already made me a laughingstock in court today. If Alaric relies on him alone, what need will he have of us? What power will remain for our house?”

The Empress sat rigidly, eyes narrowed with a haunted look.

“He doesn’t listen to me anymore. He shields Asher like a lion that shields its cub. The nobles already whisper that I’ve lost my hold over the throne. And you—” she cut him a sharp glance,

“You looked powerless before the entire court. We are cornered, Marquis.”

The Marquis stopped pacing, his jaw tightening.

“Not yet. There’s still Lilith.”

The Empress’s brows knit. “That child?”

“She’s not a child anymore,” the Marquis snapped, though his voice quickly lowered.

“She’s been polished for years for this very purpose. If she can secure Alaric’s favor—if she can bind him to our family—then our influence survives. Without that, we are finished.”

The Empress said nothing, but her silence was a reluctant agreement.

The next day, Marquis Duskbane summoned Lilith. She entered his study quietly, her hands folded neatly in front of her, though her chest tightened at the cold gleam in his eyes.

“You will go to the palace,” he ordered, not bothering with preamble.

“Congratulate the new emperor. Smile. Speak sweetly. Make him remember you.”

Lilith’s heart sank. “Father, he is grieving his father’s passing—”

“Do not question me!” The sharpness of his voice made her flinch. He leaned closer, his words laced with menace.

“Do you think your existence here is for anything else? You were raised for this. Do not shame me again. Come back with the promise of a strong title.”

She lowered her gaze, swallowing the knot in her throat.

“…Yes, Father.”

Lilith’s request to meet Alaric was immediately granted. This also proved her power and influence in the inner court beside the emperor.

At the palace, she was led to Alaric’s private chambers. The new emperor looked weary, his crown still heavy on his brow. He rose when she entered, his expression softening at the sight of her.

“Lilith,” he greeted, his tone warmer than the Marquis had ever prepared her for.

“I didn’t expect you.”

She curtsied and bowed with utmost respect before him, trying to follow her father’s instructions.

“Greeting Your Royal Highness. I am here to congratulate you.”

But Alaric’s eyes were sharp, and he caught the stiffness in her voice, the hesitation in her movements.

“You don’t want to be here, isn’t it?” he said quietly, not accusing, simply observing.

Her composure faltered. For a moment, she looked at him—not as emperor, not as her father’s command—but as the boy who had once poured her tea and smuggled sweets into the pavilion.