Chapter 111
The halls of the palace rippled with tension as Tharx and Aeliana marched through its corridors, their footfalls a drumbeat of fury. The guards flanking them moved in unison, armor clanking, the air thick with unspoken rage.
Lord Sareth had been found.
He had not fled far.
They had pulled him from the depths of the palace, dragging him from a hidden chamber, a desperate hiding place beneath the lower halls where the nobility rarely tread. He had not run because he had never planned to. His plan had already been set in motion. He had failed, and now there was nothing left for him to do but face judgment.
And Aeliana would make sure it was swift.
He was already bruised from his capture, his fine robes disheveled, the fabric torn at the shoulder where the guards had manhandled him into submission. Yet, even now, he did not look afraid.
That alone set Aeliana's teeth on edge.
They entered the grand hall, where the court had been summoned to witness what would be the most public display of treachery in years.
Aeliana stood beside Tharx at the head of the court, her hands clasped tightly behind her back, hiding the tremor of rage threatening to overtake her.
Guards threw Sareth to the ground, and he landed heavily on his knees, his breath leaving him in a sharp exhale.
The nobles watched in silence, their expressions varying from shock to cautious curiosity. Some were pale, realizing too late the danger they had courted by aligning with him.
Tharx stepped forward, his towering presence casting a long shadow over the kneeling traitor.
"You," Tharx's voice was low, deadly, "have conspired against your emperor."
Sareth looked up, his jaw set, his lips curling into something that should not have been a smile-but was.
"I conspired against your weakness," he said.
A murmur rippled through the court.
Aeliana's heart slammed against her ribs, but she forced herself to stay unmoved, unreadable.
Tharx did not react-not outwardly. But Aeliana, who knew him better than anyone, saw it.
The slight shift of his stance. The way his fingers curled at his sides. The way his golden eyes darkened like an oncoming storm.
"You believe Seraphina is a weakness?" Aeliana's voice was steady, sharper than steel.
Sareth turned his gaze on her, and she hated that there was no regret in it. No remorse.
"She is a half-blood." His voice carried in the chamber, bouncing off the stone walls, pressing into the ears of every noble present. "Your people do not want her. The empire does not want her. And when you are gone, when you are both rotting beneath the dirt, they will see that she was never meant to rule."
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Tharx took another step forward, looming over him like a god delivering judgment.
"You think the empire will fall because of my daughter?" Tharx's voice was quiet, but there was something worse than rage in it.
Sareth's jaw tightened, but he did not cower.
"I think you will destroy everything you built to protect her," Sareth murmured. "You are not the man you were when you took this throne. You have become soft. Predictable."
Aeliana did not flinch, but she felt Tharx's control shatter beside her.
The warlord moved with terrifying speed, grabbing Sareth by the throat and hoisting him up, his feet barely touching the floor. The court gasped, but no one dared to intervene.
"You funded the assassination attempt," Tharx said, his voice a whisper of fury.
Sareth choked, his hands grabbing uselessly at Tharx's unyielding grip.
"I did," he managed, voice rasping. "And I would do it again."
Aeliana moved before Tharx could crush his throat entirely.
She placed a hand on his arm-not to stop him, but to remind him.
"Not yet," she said softly.
Tharx's gaze snapped to hers, and for a moment, there was nothing but raw, seething rage between them.
She did not look away.
She was not asking.
His grip loosened just enough for Sareth to drop to the floor, coughing, dragging in ragged, desperate breaths.
Aeliana turned toward him, her chin lifting, her stare cold as ice.
"You will tell us everything," she said. "Every name. Every ally. Every co-conspirator."
Sareth wiped the blood from his split lip, giving her a look that could have been admiration in another life.
"You were a farmer's daughter," he murmured. "And yet you have become something far worse than your husband. You are the one they truly fear."
Aeliana did not deny it.
"Speak," she commanded.
Sareth glanced at the watching nobles, at the ones who had not yet been named, the ones who had supported him in the shadows.
Aeliana saw it-the way some of them tensed.
He could name them.
But instead, he smiled.
"You will find out soon enough," he murmured. "Because this is not the end."
Aeliana narrowed her eyes.
She saw what he was doing. He was playing the long game. He knew he was already dead, but his allies? His true allies? They were still out there.
Tharx turned away from him, facing the nobles. His golden eyes swept over them, his expression unreadable.
"Any who were loyal to him," Tharx said, voice like thunder, "you have one chance to step forward now."
No one moved.
The room was thick with silence, and Aeliana watched the fear settle deeper into their bones.
She turned back to Sareth, her voice clear and cutting.
"You have conspired against my daughter, my empire." She took a single step forward, her presence towering despite her smaller frame. "There is no mercy for those who betray their ruler."
Sareth did not blink.
"I never expected mercy."
"Good."
Aeliana let the words sink into the court, let them settle into the hearts of those who might have entertained similar treacheries.
"Tomorrow at dawn," she said, her voice carrying across the chamber, "Lord Sareth will be executed before the empire. Let it be known that no traitor will be left to draw breath under this rule."
There was no applause. No cheers.
There was only the suffocating weight of consequence.
Guards stepped forward, grabbing Sareth by the arms. He did not resist, did not struggle. He let them pull him away, his fate sealed.
Aeliana let out a slow, controlled breath, her hands still clenched at her sides.
Tharx looked at her.
His eyes still burned, but there was something else there, too.
He had wanted to kill Sareth himself. But he had let her take control.
She had not just given the order. She had made it a statement.
She had not just sentenced one man.
She had crushed all who would dare challenge their rule.
And the empire would never forget it.