In a secluded room draped in heavy velvet and secrecy, Duke Marcello Blackwood leaned closer to the towering figure across from him, his voice low and urgent.
"Do you truly believe we can overthrow the Emperor?" Marcello asked, his brow furrowed in doubt.
Across the table, Duke Victor Vexer, the man whispered to be the shadow behind many a fallen courtier, smiled thinly, his fingers lazily wiping a speck of dust from his sleeve.
"Marcello," Victor said smoothly, "do you think I would promise you the throne without the means to deliver it?"
Marcello hesitated, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the table. "Of course, I trust you. But with the Emperor gathering strength every day, his alliances, his reforms, it seems... daunting."
Victor's smile did not falter. He leaned back, the chair creaking ominously. "Patience, my brother. Patience. Have you not heard? Steady and slow wins the race."
Marcello exhaled heavily, but the glint of ambition remained bright in his eyes. "And the girl?"
Victor let out a cruel chuckle, his gaze darkening. "The girl is a mere pebble in our path. I have eyes watching her every move. Should she falter, I shall crush her like an ant beneath my boot."
Marcello allowed a rare smile to touch his lips as Victor continued, his voice almost reverent.
"The throne is already yours, Marcello. We need only remove one obstacle and soon, your son Ryker shall be Emperor."
Victor's eyes grew distant, lost in dreams of a crown already within reach, while Marcello sat back, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
Meanwhile, in the Emperor's private study, Lola groaned dramatically, throwing herself into a nearby chair.
"Must there always be someone plotting our demise?" she complained, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Xander chuckled softly, setting aside a document. "We rule not merely a kingdom, my lady, but an empire. Peace does not come so easily."
He rose, reaching for his sword, but Lola stood swiftly, blocking his path with a stubborn lift of her chin.
"And where do you think you are going without me?" she asked pointedly.
The Emperor raised a brow, amused. "This matter could be dangerous, Lola."
"As acting Queen, I have a right to be informed," she insisted, folding her arms. "And a duty to stand beside you."
For a moment, Xander seemed inclined to protest, but finally, he nodded with a resigned smile. Without another word, they left the study together.
As they made their way down the corridors, Lola tried to steady her nerves, though a heavy sense of foreboding pressed against her chest. The echo of hurried footsteps grew louder, and then chaos.
Before them unfolded a scene neither had anticipated.
Men of the court knelt trembling, faces pale with terror. Others stood rigid, caught mid-bow, their expressions frozen.
At the center of it all stood the Emperor, his body coiled with barely contained fury, his voice slicing through the heavy air.
"What did you just say?" Xander roared, the sound thunderous against the marble walls.
The sheer force of his rage sent a visible shudder through the gathered lords. Even Lola, brave as she was, felt her breath hitch. She had never seen the Emperor like this, not the man who smiled so easily at her, who teased her over morning tea.
No, this was not Xander the man.
This was Xander the Emperor.
And whatever had been spoken, it had shaken even him.