The name ‘Ford’ made the emperor grimace, just like someone who’d just swallowed a fish bone. Just this afternoon, the emperor had dismissed Prime Minister Ford and banished his family from the palace in an attempt to appease Theodore Cordova’s anger. “Ford’s younger brother? Why on earth should I meet with a family I’ve only just cast out? Tell him to go home and weep for his brother there!” snapped the Emperor, waving his hand towards the door. The guard bowed even deeper and was already half-standing to withdraw. However, an elderly man in a grey cloak slipped in from behind the guard’s back before the door could close. The old man was the Chief Eunuch of the palace, a servant who had served the Emperor since His Majesty was still the Crown Prince. He stepped over the shards of plate on the floor without glancing down, then knelt beside the Emperor’s throne. Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard by the servants, the Chief Eunuch whispered into the Emperor’s ear. “Forgive

64 “Hmm, his name is Darius, if I’m not mistaken.” The emperor replied cautiously, and the ring on his finger stopped spinning. “The very same Darius who is now vomiting blood in the palace infirmary, Your Majesty. The only person brave enough to help my nephew can’t even lift a spoon now,” Maxime replied coldly. Maxime leaned forward slightly. His palms rested on the edge of the table, and the thick oak beneath his fingers creaked softly. “For decades my brother has served Your Majesty. He has drawn up tax rolls for Your Majesty, suppressed rebellious nobles for Your Majesty, and allowed his name to be cursed by the people for Your Majesty’s sake. Was all that worth nothing more than a single rebuke in front of the nobles?!” CRACK! The corner of the oak table cracked beneath Maxime’s palm. Wood shards fell to the floor, and the two attendants by the wall recoiled until their backs were pressed against the curtains. The Emperor did not back down. Instead, he reached for the silv

"The southern gatekeeper searched him twice on my own orders, Your Majesty," replied Maxime calmly. But the Emperor was still not satisfied. He narrowed his eyes and asked again in a low voice. "Then why did the Kingdom of Valtoria send someone as powerful as that with you?" Maxime glanced at the Emperor's cloak, where the scroll of the treaty was kept, then replied. "Once the peace treaty has been signed, it is only natural for the Kingdom of Valtoria to send its finest experts to deliver the treaty and pay their respects to Your Majesty. It is a long-standing tradition between kingdoms, and no noble would find it suspicious." Hearing Maxime's reply, the Emperor closed his eyes for a moment. He pictured the banquet held in the great hall to welcome the envoys from the Kingdom of Valtoria, complete with nobles raising their glasses in a toast, then imagined one of the kingdom's experts vanishing from the envoys' residence in the middle of the night. The Emperor opened his eyes, the

At the far end of the same plain, at the Iron Cavalry camp outside the western gate, Serena Cordova had not taken off her armour since dawn. Her black steel armour, inlaid with silver, was already covered in dust, and her long sword was stuck in the ground beside a map spread out on a wooden table. From the small hill where her command tent stood, Serena could see the entire battlefield. Thirty thousand Iron Cavalry were arrayed in a crescent formation. Across the plain, thousands of soldiers from the capital’s garrison stood behind a line of shields blocking the road to the western gate. For a whole day, the two armies had been staring each other down without a single arrow being fired. The Northern horses snorted beneath their saddles, whilst the garrison archers atop the city walls had already changed guard three times. Throughout the day, mounted scouts came and went to the command tent, and every piece of news they brought caused Serena’s brow to furrow ever deeper. The fir

Hearing Serena’s question, which sounded both astonished and suspicious, Theodore’s body gave a slight start. In that very instant, his consciousness—which had momentarily drifted away into memories of the past—returned fully. Theodore immediately released his embrace and took a step back. In the space of a single, brief breath, he quickly regained his composure. All the vulnerability, guilt, and the surge of joy at being reunited with his third younger sister were instantly locked away behind a cold, expressionless mask. The glint in his eyes, which had been misty just seconds before, was now sharp and frozen, like the surface of a frozen lake on the border. ‘Damn, I got too carried away,’ Theodore thought to himself as he clenched his fists beneath his cloak. How could he possibly have forgotten his own family’s nature? They were both descendants of the Cordova clan, raised under the Northern Region’s military discipline—a regime that was harsh, strict and unforgiving. Ever si