[Imperial Palace — Council Chamber — Later]
After Malik’s dangerous order, the nobles hurried out of the council chamber. None dared linger beneath the emperor’s gaze. Some feared the investigation; others feared the man who had been granted permission to destroy their houses.
Soon, the enormous cedar doors closed, leaving only Malik Zayrakh Azrath, Azram Vaerun Veyrath, Captain Kharzen, and Imperial Captain Nareza Veyr within the chamber.
The tension remained suffocating. Murderous energy coiled through the room like a dark serpent, and the flames in the bronze braziers trembled beneath the pressure of Malik’s fury.
The emperor clenched his fist.
"Such things are happening in our empire..." His amber eyes narrowed. "Where exactly did these nobles find the audacity?"
Imperial Captain Nareza lowered her head slightly.
"It was an illegal ritual, Malik. Something of this scale could not have begun overnight. We must find its roots and determine who revived it."
Malik said nothing; his gaze remained fixed upon the closed doors in anger.
Captain Kharzen broke the silence.
"During the previous Malik’s reign, there was a similar incident. His Majesty at the time discovered the operation and brought it to an end. Could the person who initiated it then be responsible for its return?"
"It is possible," Nareza replied. "However, even during the previous Malik’s reign, the identity of the person who started it was never established."
Silence descended once more, then Vaerun spoke.
"THEN WE FIND THEM THIS TIME AND END IT PERMANENTLY."
His voice was low, but the cold certainty behind it carried through the vast chamber.
Malik’s gaze shifted toward Vaerun.
"How did you discover that the orphanage was involved?"
Vaerun glanced at him once before leaning back against his chair.
"My daughter informed me."
Malik’s eyes widened.
"Lady Seyra?"
For a moment, his imperial composure slipped.
"But how? She is only four years old. How could she know about the auction? Do not tell me she was nearly—"
He stopped as the unspoken possibility caught in his throat.
Had Seyra been among the children sold? Had she been taken to one of those facilities before Vaerun found her? Had the little girl he had watched at the palace dinner endured something far worse than he had imagined?
His fingers tightened against the armrest.
Vaerun did not answer immediately and said, "She ran away from the orphanage, but she knew about the embezzlement, the auction, and the people involved from her orphanage."
His expression remained composed for a moment, then the corner of his mouth lifted proudly.
"She is four years old, yet she understands what an auction is. It appears my daughter is a little scholar."
. . .
. . .
Captain Kharzen lowered his gaze, concealing the faintest hint of amusement. Nareza remained respectfully silent.
Malik, however, could only stare at Vaerun.
He had known this man for ten years. He had seen him ruthless and merciless toward his enemies and utterly indifferent to the admiration of the court, but this...this quiet, unmistakable pride when speaking of his daughter—
Malik had never seen it before.
Vaerun’s silver eyes softened for a fleeting moment as he thought of Seyra. The little girl had somehow managed to uncover a terrible secret, and despite everything she had endured, she still possessed enough spirit to lecture a five-year-old about enjoying childhood.
My daughter.
The words seemed to belong to him as naturally as his own name.
Malik’s chest tightened, and the memory of Seyra’s face at the imperial dinner returned with merciless clarity.
Her violet eyes had looked at him with hurt. He remembered the poisonous words he had spoken to her, telling her to remember her place and not become a burden to House Veyrath.
He had intended to put distance between himself and the child. Instead, he had wounded someone Vaerun loved.
Malik’s fist clenched in guilt.
Vaerun rose.
"I shall leave now. Leave this matter to me, Malik."
Malik drew his attention back to the present and gave a small nod.
"Captain Nareza will accompany you. If you require imperial assistance, she will provide it."
Nareza bowed.
"I shall prepare the order parchment immediately."
She left briefly and returned with a parchment bearing the imperial seal, together with the carved golden stamp reserved for the Malik’s personal decrees. She placed both before the throne.
Malik took the stamp and pressed it firmly into the warm wax; the twin dragon appeared in sharp relief, he lifted the parchment, and he held it out to Vaerun.
"I give you a free hand."
Vaerun stepped closer.
Their fingers brushed as he accepted the decree.
It was a fleeting touch, barely enough to register, yet Malik felt it with an intensity he despised. His hand lingered for the briefest moment before he withdrew it, suddenly conscious of the distance between them...and of how little distance there actually was.
Vaerun looked down at the decree, then raised his silver eyes, and their gazes locked.
For one quiet heartbeat, the empire seemed to disappear.
Malik had faced assassins without flinching and ordered executions without regret, yet standing beneath Vaerun’s unwavering gaze made an unfamiliar warmth creep up the back of his neck. His fingers tightened around the edge of the throne.
Vaerun’s expression remained unreadable. He was close enough for Malik to notice the faint silver strands embroidered along his collar, close enough to catch the clean scent of cedar carried on his robes.
Then Vaerun’s eyes flickered briefly toward Malik’s face.
"Thank you, Malik."
Two simple words.
Malik looked away first, and a faint warmth touched his ears, an indignity he was grateful the other men in the chamber were too disciplined to acknowledge.
Vaerun noticed, but he offered no comment. He merely folded the decree with deliberate care and slipped it into his sleeve.
The moment had passed as quickly as it had arrived, and the distance between them returned, cold and familiar.
Vaerun inclined his head.
"I shall report when I have something substantial."
Malik forced his gaze back to him. "Alright."
Vaerun turned and walked toward the doors, his steps measured and unhurried. Captain Kharzen followed, with Nareza close behind.
Just before the doors closed, Vaerun glanced back once. Malik was still watching him; their eyes met again, briefly, before the cedar doors shut between them.
The emperor remained upon his throne, his hand resting against the armrest where his fingers had clenched moments earlier.
He had given Vaerun the authority to destroy noble houses and had given him the freedom to pass judgment upon men who had dared to conduct forbidden rituals beneath the imperial crown.
Yet the one thing Malik wanted most remained beyond his command.
Vaerun Veyrath could be ordered to investigate a conspiracy and could be entrusted with the fate of an empire, but he could not be commanded to love him.
And that, Malik knew, was the one battle in which his crown had never given him an advantage.
"Let’s go."
He rose from his seat and walked out of the council chamber, the weight of the empire following him as faithfully as his shadow.
***
[Imperial Palace — Corridor — Later]
Azram Vaerun Veyrath was walking down the corridor toward the playroom when a small voice rang through the palace.
"Papa!"
Before he could take another step, Seyra came running toward him, her little feet pattering against the polished stone.
Vaerun bent just in time to catch her as she launched herself at him.
"What took you so long?" she demanded, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you know how bored I was? Did you forget you have a daughter waiting for you?"
Vaerun settled her against his chest.
"I was coming to you."
"Very slowly."
"I was occupied."
"With what? Being terrifying?"
"Among other things."
Seyra narrowed her eyes at him, apparently unconvinced by this explanation.
At that moment, Malik Zayrakh passed the corridor entrance. He stopped upon hearing her voice, remaining unnoticed as he watched the pair.
Seyra, meanwhile, had discovered something far more important than her father’s mysterious occupation.
She looked down at the sword at his waist.
"It’s almost midnight. What were you doing? Killing people?"
Vaerun glanced at her.
"But there’s no blood on your sword." She inspected it with grave suspicion. "So what took you so long?"
Captain Ishtar turned her face away, hiding a small smile. Vaerun merely adjusted Seyra in his arms.
"Did you make any friends?"
Seyra stiffened with a terrible question and a deeply unnecessary question.
"Ugh. You’re still on that? Can’t you just let go already?"
"Seyra."
"Fine! I made one friend. One. He belongs to some house Numb."
Vaerun’s brows drew together.
"House Numb?"
"It’s House Nabu, Azram," Captain Ishtar corrected, barely containing her amusement.
"House Nabu?" Vaerun repeated. "Kharan (the Marquess) Naram Nabu’s son?"
Captain Ishtar nodded, and Vaerun looked back at his daughter.
"Why are you friends with a boy?"
. . .
. . .
Seyra stared at him; for a moment, she looked as though she had just discovered a new and particularly troublesome species of monster, then she exploded.
"OH, COME ON! WHAT ERA DO YOU THINK WE’RE LIVING IN? HE’S A CHILD! BOYS AND GIRLS CAN BE FRIENDS!"
Her voice echoed down the corridor. Vaerun blinked once; his daughter had many talents. Destroying his hearing appeared to be the newest.
"But he will grow into a man one day."
Seyra grabbed a fistful of his hair.
"Papa, I really can’t with you!"
Vaerun’s expression remained composed, though his hand immediately moved to protect his hair from further damage.
"You are pulling my hair."
"GOOD! MAYBE IT’LL HELP YOU THINK!"
"Seyra."
"You want me to make friends with conditions now? First, I have to check their family name, then their gender, then their future occupation. What’s next? A background investigation before I can share a biscuit? It’s an abuse, emotional abuse."
Captain Ishtar lowered her head, her shoulders shook. Vaerun sighed, accepting that his evening had taken a turn far more exhausting than the council meeting.
"I am beginning to think I am the one being abused here."
Seyra gave his hair one final, indignant tug.
"You deserve it."
A few paces away, Malik stood silently, watching the exchange.
There was no fear in Seyra’s voice. No careful obedience, no trembling awareness of the titles surrounding her. She argued with Vaerun as though he were simply her father, and he, despite his reputation as the Silent Tempest, carried her without the slightest intention of putting her down.
Something tightened painfully in Malik’s chest.
’If I had approached her properly...’
His gaze lingered on the little girl clinging to Vaerun’s neck.
’Perhaps I could have stood there with them, too.’
Captain Nareza, who had followed Malik from the council chamber, glanced at him. She noticed the guilt in his expression, and the quiet longing he made no attempt to voice but neither she nor Malik interrupted them.
Seyra was still muttering under her breath as she tried to smooth the hair she had thoroughly disordered. Vaerun watched her with the long-suffering patience of a man who could command armies but had apparently lost all authority over one four-year-old.
Then Seyra paused as her little hands went still against his shoulder. Her violet eyes shifted past Vaerun and landed on Malik Zayrakh Azrath and for one brief moment, the corridor fell silent as she saw Malik with a hurtful eyes.