Chapter 69

The court was waiting.

The nobles lined the grand hall, their faces masks of carefully concealed wariness. They had come expecting another day of dominance, another display of power, another moment of blood and unquestionable rulership.

What they got was silence.

Tharx sat upon the throne, golden eyes flickering over the assembled lords and ministers. His expression was unreadable, his posture relaxed-but Aeliana, standing just to his right, saw the tension in his fingers as they curled against the armrest.

The first noble stepped forward, a flicker of hesitation in his stance.

"Your Majesty," Lord Kaltor began, bowing, "the grain shortage in the western provinces worsens. We have sent several requests for additional supply allocations, but the governor claims there is nothing to spare. If this continues, the region will be unable to meet its tax quota for the next cycle."

Aeliana watched closely.

In the past, Tharx's answer would have been immediate and absolute. He would have ordered the governor removed, perhaps executed, for his failure.

Now?

Tharx leaned forward slightly.

"And what solution do you propose, Lord Kaltor?"

A stunned pause rippled through the chamber.

The noble blinked. "My my solution, Your Majesty?"

Tharx's expression remained unmoving. "You present the problem, but I am asking if you bring a solution."

The court shifted. This was not how this usually went.

Kaltor, caught off guard, cleared his throat. "I-I believe redistributing supplies from the more abundant southern provinces could alleviate the shortage."

"Redistributing," Tharx repeated, tone flat.

The noble swallowed. "Temporarily. The southern lords would be compensated, of course."

Tharx's gaze flickered toward another noble in the hall-Lord Verris, the ruler of one of the southern provinces.

"Lord Verris."

Verris stiffened, his jaw tightening. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Can the southern provinces afford to spare grain for redistribution?"

The noble hesitated.

In the past, hesitation would have been a death sentence.

But Tharx merely waited.

Finally, Verris inclined his head. "It would be difficult. But not impossible."

Aeliana saw it then. The shift.

The moment Tharx made the decision based on logic, not fear.

He nodded once. "Then make it happen."

Gasps. A ripple of disbelief.

Just like that, a problem had been solved without bloodshed.

The next noble stepped forward hesitantly.

"Your Majesty, I I wish to present a case for trial," he said, voice unsure. "A soldier stands accused of desertion. The penalty, as per law, is execution, but he claims his actions were out of necessity, not treason. His family was starving. He left his post to find food for them, then returned of his own accord. The governor has demanded his head, but some believe mercy is warranted."

More murmurs from the court. A trial. A question of mercy.

In the past, Tharx's answer would have been instant. Absolute. Brutal.

But today-

"Bring him forward," Tharx said.

Another shockwave through the court.

Aeliana watched as the guards brought the soldier in-young, barely past twenty, his uniform tattered, his face gaunt with hunger.

Tharx studied him. "You abandoned your post?"

The soldier's throat bobbed. "I did."

"You returned of your own will?"

"I did."

"Why?"

A sharp inhale. "Because I serve this empire. I made a choice between death and dishonor. I chose dishonor. But I will not choose it again."

Aeliana held her breath.

Tharx tilted his head. "Then you will serve. Not die."

The entire room froze.

Tharx's voice was steel.

"You will be stripped of your rank and reassigned to the labor corps until your debt is repaid. If you prove your loyalty through service, you will be given another chance."

The soldier fell to his knees.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he rasped, pressing his forehead to the stone.

Tharx merely waved his hand.

The guards took the soldier away, and the court erupted into whispers.

Aeliana saw the shift in their expressions. They were shaken. Uncertain.

Tharx had not forgiven weakness. But he had granted justice.

And that was something new.

The next noble to step forward, however, did not accept this change.

Lord Rylen was an old warrior, a staunch traditionalist, a man who had seen battle and believed in absolute strength.

"This is a mistake," Rylen said without bowing, without masking his disdain.

The court fell into silence.

Tharx's gaze slowly lifted to him.

Rylen did not waver.

"You cannot rule this empire with mercy, Your Majesty," he continued. "Weakness will only bring rebellion. You are the emperor, not a mediator. You do not compromise."

Aeliana braced herself.

Tharx was not a patient man. And yet-

Tharx stood.

The movement was slow, deliberate.

"If you believe I have made a mistake," he said, his tone unreadable, "then perhaps you should prove that your way is better."

Rylen stiffened. "Your Majesty?"

Tharx descended the dais.

He stopped before Rylen, tilting his head slightly. "You want to challenge my decisions? Then prove yourself. You will go to the southern provinces and oversee the grain redistribution yourself. Ensure its success. If it fails, you will answer for it."

Another gasp.

This was not exile.

It was a test. A demand for action.

Rylen's jaw clenched, but he did not refuse.

He bowed his head. "As you command."

The court watched in stunned silence as Tharx turned away, as he walked back to his throne, as he sat once more, this time not as a tyrant, but as something else entirely.

A ruler.

That night, Aeliana found him standing at their chamber window, watching the city.

She stepped closer, feeling the weight of the day between them.

"You didn't kill him," she murmured.

Tharx exhaled through his nose. "No."

A beat of silence.

Aeliana studied his face. The tension in his jaw. The way his hands remained still at his sides, as if fighting an instinct he could not quite silence.

"You ruled fairly today," she said.

His golden eyes met hers. "Did I?"

She smiled, soft but certain. "Yes."

Tharx searched her face.

Then, without warning, he reached for her, pulling her against him.

His grip was firm, possessive, but different now.

Not just claiming her.

Needing her.

His lips brushed her ear. "Do you regret making me softer?"

Aeliana let out a breathless laugh.

She pulled back slightly, looking into his intense, golden gaze.

And then, softly, honestly, she whispered, "No. I love you for it."

Tharx exhaled sharply, as if something inside him had just collapsed.

And then he kissed her.

Deep. Unrelenting. Passionate.