Chapter 70: The Emperor of Qashmar

[The Imperial Palace — Throne Room — The Next Day]

Morning sunlight poured through the enormous golden windows of the Imperial Palace, spilling across the polished marble floor of the throne room.

The great doors remained closed. Inside, every noble house of Qashmar had gathered.

Dukes. Marquises. Counts. Clan leaders. Imperial ministers. Representatives of the ancient wolf houses, every seat had been occupied, and every conversation had fallen into a tense whisper.

At the front stood the highest-ranking noble houses of the empire, among them—

House Voss.

Cassian Voss stood beside his family, his expression carefully composed despite the bruising still faintly visible upon his face; beside him stood Nora. Her hands were folded before her, but her fingers remained tightly intertwined.

Her eyes remained fixed upon the enormous imperial doors.

Then—

BOOOOOOOOOOM...

"THE EMPEROR OF QASHMAR KAEL VAELRIC HAS ARRIVED."

The great doors opened.

Silence, an absolute silence.

The entire throne room seemed to hold its breath.

CLACK.

A pair of imperial guards stepped forward; their spears struck the marble floor simultaneously.

THUD!

Then came Captain Cedric; his crimson imperial cloak flowed behind him as he walked through the center of the hall, and every noble in the chamber dropped to one knee, silk robes swept across the marble.

Armor struck the floor. Heads lowered; even the oldest clan leaders bowed their heads before the throne.

A thunderous voice erupted from the entire hall.

"GLORY TO HIS MAJESTY!"

"GLORY TO EMPEROR KAEL VAELRIC!"

"LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!"

"LONG LIVE THE WOLF OF QASHMAR!"

The sound shook the enormous chamber.

Then Kael entered, his crimson imperial robes flowing behind him, embroidered with golden threads depicting the Red Wolf of Qashmar.

The imperial crown rested upon his head, his sword hung at his side, and his amber eyes swept calmly across the kneeling nobles.

There was no hesitation in his stride, no uncertainty, only authority. The emperor walked through the center of his empire. Captain Cedric followed several paces behind. Kael reached the center of the throne room.

He stopped, and the entire hall remained kneeling.

House after house. Clan after clan. Kael looked toward the first row. Grand Duke Lior was there. Duke Lucein beside him, both bowed respectfully.

Kael’s gaze then shifted to house Voss.

Cassian remained kneeling as his head lowered. Nora knelt beside him for a brief moment; her eyes lifted, and she met Kael’s gaze. Something cold flickered within them.

Kael noticed, but he gave no reaction; his expression remained that of an emperor, calm, controlled, and untouchable.

His voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried through every corner of the throne room. "All of you...rise."

One by one—THUD.

The nobles stood, and the hall filled with the sound of clothing shifting and armor settling. Kael walked toward his throne; every eye followed him as he climbed the marble steps.

The Emperor of Qashmar stood above them all.

His crimson cloak descended from his shoulders and swept behind him like a blood-red banner caught in the wind. Beneath it, the embroidered red wolf upon his chest seemed almost alive beneath the golden sunlight pouring through the high windows of the throne hall.

The crown rested upon his dark hair.

The sword remained at his side, and upon the ancient throne of Qashmar sat a man whom many of them had once believed would never live long enough to wear it.

Kael slowly lowered himself onto the throne.

THUD.

The sound of his weight settling upon the ancient stone seemed to travel through the entire hall. Every noble fell silent.

Then the great bronze doors opened.

KRRRRAAAAK.

A cold wind swept through the throne hall; the golden lamps trembled as shadows crawled across the obsidian floor and Lytharion entered.

The Shadow King did not announce himself; he did not need to. His very presence was announcement enough; the moment he stepped into the throne hall, the backs of every noble stiffened.

Some lowered their heads immediately, and others swallowed. A few dared to glance toward him only to look away almost instantly. They all kneeled, bowing, "Greetings to the Lord of Darkness."

Lytharion walked through the gathered houses with the calm of a god walking among insects. His black robes moved silently around him, untouched by the wind, and his golden eyes swept across the room with an ancient, unreadable coldness.

He reached the throne, then stopped beside it, and without a word, he leaned against one of the enormous stone pillars. He folded his arms across his chest and watched.

That was all, yet somehow, his silence was more frightening than a drawn sword. No noble dared meet his gaze.

Kael noticed, and the corner of his mouth almost curved. Then his attention returned to the gathered houses.

His amber eyes became colder.

"You all know what happened after the death of the previous emperor. Qashmar remained without a sovereign for an entire year."

A murmur passed through the hall as everyone glanced at Lytharion because of his punishment upon Qashmar; the throne was empty for one whole year.

"During that year, the throne remained empty." Kael’s fingers slowly closed around the armrest of the throne.

"The elders of the clans gathered. The priests called upon the ancient spirits. The sacred rites were performed before the gods who have watched this empire rise from dust and blood, and the spirits gave their decree."

His gaze hardened.

"They chose me, and that decree was accepted."

He looked across the hall.

"Or so I believed."

Silence.

Then his expression changed; the warmth disappeared from his face entirely as his eyes became dark.

"But it seems...some among you have found the decree of the spirits inconvenient."

A noble lowered his gaze, and another exchanged a nervous glance with the man beside him. Kael saw everything; he missed nothing.

"So you sent assassins."

The words fell like a blade as several nobles froze. Kael’s fingers tapped once against the armrest.

"Yesterday, three assassins entered the Emperor’s chamber."

A collective breath passed through the nobles. Grand Duke Lior’s hand clenched at his side as his knuckles whitened.

Kael continued as his gaze slowly moved toward the noble houses.

"They came into my chamber; they carried blades. They came intending to spill the blood of the Emperor of Qashmar, and they failed again."

No one spoke.

Kael’s mouth curved into the faintest, most humorless smile. The word echoed through the hall.

"Your assassins failed, and now you have forced my hand."

Lytharion’s golden eyes lifted slightly from where he stood against the pillar, and he said nothing, but the shadows around his feet stirred. Kael rose from the throne; the entire hall seemed to shrink beneath him.

"Listen carefully." His voice was no longer that of a young emperor addressing his nobles. It was the voice of the sovereign of Qashmar.

"An attempt upon my life is not merely an attack upon Kael Vaelric.It is an attack upon the throne. It is an attack upon Qashmar and therefore..."

His gaze became lethal.

"...it is treason."

The word seemed to freeze the air. Grand Duke Lior remained perfectly still; the nobles, however, began exchanging frightened glances.

"Under the ancient law of Qashmar, treason against the throne is punished by death, and I will uphold that law."

A gasp escaped someone in the crowd. Kael did not even look toward them.

"The head of the traitor will be separated from his body. His name will be erased from the imperial records, his house will lose its banners, and his bloodline will carry the shame of treason for generations."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Then—

FWOOSH.

A black shadow swept through the golden light above them. Veyrith descended from the rafters; the great raven circled once above the throne before landing upon Kael’s shoulder as his black feathers gleamed against the crimson cloak.

Kael slowly turned his head toward him. Veyrith gave a low, guttural croak. Kael’s expression did not change, but somehow, with the raven perched upon his shoulder and the sword hanging from his hand, the Emperor looked less like a mortal king...and more like something the ancient gods themselves had crowned.

Kael looked back at the nobles.

"However...I will grant the guilty one mercy."

A ripple of confusion moved through the hall. Kael’s eyes narrowed.

"One chance, only one: step forward and kneel before your emperor, confess your crime."

His voice dropped into something terrifyingly calm.

"And perhaps..."

His eyes swept over them.

"...Qashmar will remember that you possessed enough courage to face the consequences of your own actions."

He paused, then his expression turned cold.

"But if you remain silent...you will force me to find you myself."

The hall went still. Kael’s amber eyes burned beneath the crown.

"And when I find you...you will wish you had knelt today."

No one breathed. Lytharion remained against the pillar, arms folded, his golden gaze fixed upon Kael, and for the briefest moment the Shadow King smiled, not because Kael had threatened them but because his queen had finally learned how to make an entire kingdom tremble without raising his voice.