THE EMPRESS I FORGOT

Chapter 4: A Contract Written in Blood

“Your Majesty, you cannot possibly expect us to accept this absolute madness!”

Lord Cassian's voice thundered through the council chamber before Empress Aurelia had even finished reading the final lines of the mysterious letter. He stood tall beside the long black table, pressing one palm heavily against the parchment as though he could physically force its written words to vanish into thin air, while the assembled noblemen and women exchanged uneasy glances with one another. Beyond the tall glass windows, cathedral bells continued to toll ominously across the capital city, announcing the unprecedented thirteenth stroke that no living citizen had ever heard in their lifetime.

Julian Vale stood under the hostile gaze of a dozen suspicious aristocrats, still struggling to process the unfamiliar ancient name Aurelia had whispered at the end of the previous hour. The empress had steadfastly refused to repeat the name aloud, and now, having summoned her council in great haste, she seemed entirely determined to pretend that the hidden letter had never existed in the first place.

“You will lower your voice immediately, Uncle,” Aurelia said calmly, her tone laced with absolute authority. “The imperial palace has survived far greater inconveniences than a single piece of mysterious parchment.”

“An inconvenience, you call it?” Cassian demanded incredulously, throwing his hands up in the air. “An ancient, forbidden clock has suddenly awakened beneath our feet, forbidden magic has visibly manifested in the public streets, and a commoner from the slums bears a glowing mark associated with the greatest disaster in our empire's long history! Yet, despite all of this, you have brought him directly into the heart of our government without putting him in chains!”

Julian felt his jaw tighten in defense. “I did not ask to be brought here in the first place.”

“No one invited or asked for your opinion, boy,” Cassian snapped, turning his glare upon him.

“And yet you seem completely determined to make my life the primary subject of every single conversation in this room,” Julian countered, matching the older man's cold stare.

Several council members gasped in sheer disbelief at the commoner's utter lack of deference. Mira Thorne, who was standing quietly near the tall entrance doors, offered Julian a subtle warning look, but he firmly refused to lower his eyes. He had spent his entire life watching wealthy, arrogant men decide the tragic fates of vulnerable people like him, and he had no intention of pretending they were wiser simply because they wore expensive silk clothing.

Aurelia raised one slender hand, instantly silencing the rising chatter in the room. “Lord Cassian's deep concern is not entirely unreasonable. Until we fully comprehend the true nature of Julian's strange ability, he undoubtedly represents a potential threat to the stability of the throne.”

“Then imprison him in the dungeons at once,” Cassian urged, seizing the opportunity. “Place him under the strict, constant supervision of the royal magisters, and let the court properly determine whether he is of any practical use or merely a danger that must be eliminated.”

“And what happens if I refuse to go along with that?” Julian asked, stepping forward slightly.

Cassian smiled thinly, his eyes narrowing. “Then you will quickly learn that the empire possesses very little patience for common men who mistake a single moment of luck for the right to challenge their superiors.”

Aurelia watched Julian with quiet intensity. She had witnessed his undeniable defiance in the throne room earlier, but she also clearly recognized the deep fear he strove to conceal whenever the thirteen-handed mark burned beneath his skin. He was immensely dangerous precisely because he did not understand the true origin of the power he carried inside him. More troubling still was the undeniable fact that the ancient clock had awakened specifically for him, and her mother's desperate final letter strongly suggested that the young man standing before her might have already died once centuries ago.

She knew she could not afford to let Cassian discover the full truth before she did.

“Enough of this pointless debate,” she declared, her commanding voice cutting through the tension. “The council will consider a completely different arrangement.”

Cassian's thin smile vanished instantly. “What sort of arrangement?”

The empress rose slowly from her high-backed chair, looking down at the gathered aristocrats. “Julian Vale will become my official fiancé.”

For several endless seconds, not a single person in the room moved or dared to breathe.

Then, the council chamber erupted into absolute chaos. One prominent noblewoman gasped so loudly that she accidentally dropped her jeweled fan onto the stone floor, while another noble demanded to know whether the empress had lost her mind. Cassian slammed his fist down onto the wooden table with tremendous force, sending a heavy silver goblet tumbling across the marble tiles.

Julian stared at Aurelia in utter shock, looking as though she had just casually announced her intention to marry the river. “You cannot possibly be serious about this.”

“I rarely make jokes about matters that directly determine whether I remain alive,” she replied without breaking eye contact.

“You do not even know who I am,” Julian pointed out defensively.

“Neither does the rest of the court, which is precisely why this arrangement will prove to be useful for us both,” she answered smoothly.

Cassian was the first to recover his composure, his face flushed with anger. “Your Majesty, a royal marriage alliance is not a child's game to be played at your whim! The high noble houses have spent countless generations protecting the purity of the imperial bloodline. You cannot simply discard centuries of sacred tradition for a common rat who was nearly executed for defending a thief!”

“He was defending his young brother from a cruel death,” Aurelia corrected him firmly. “Furthermore, the written law does not require me to seek your permission before I choose my own fiancé.”

“Your disastrous choice will inevitably ignite a massive succession crisis!” Cassian shouted back.

“The succession crisis already exists, Uncle,” Aurelia reminded him coldly. “Three major noble houses have outright refused to renew their sacred oaths of allegiance, the northern provinces are actively threatening armed rebellion, and someone has attempted to assassinate me twice within this month alone. If my official engagement to Julian gives this court something completely unexpected to fear, perhaps it will keep my enemies occupied long enough for me to identify them and take their heads.”

Julian understood the strategic logic behind her decision, even as he thoroughly despised the idea of being used as a pawn in high society politics. The empress desperately needed a public distraction, and he urgently required royal protection for himself and Tomas. Their immediate interests happened to overlap, but that did not mean he intended to become another helpless possession owned by the imperial family.

“I have my own conditions before I agree to this,” Julian stated clearly, raising his voice above the murmurs.

Cassian burst into mocking laughter. “A common slum rat believes he is in a position to negotiate with an empress?”

“Yes, I am,” Julian answered without flinching.

Aurelia's sharp gaze focused on him with newfound interest. “State your terms, Julian.”

“My brother must receive permanent imperial protection, proper medical care, and the complete freedom to live his life without ever being punished for my actions,” Julian demanded, counting off his fingers. “Additionally, no one is allowed to experiment on me or attempt to force my power to manifest without my explicit consent. I will answer your questions about what happened on the execution platform, but I will not be locked away in a laboratory simply because your royal scholars find my body fascinating.”

The entire council chamber grew remarkably quiet as they listened to his bold demands.

“And,” Julian added, leaning slightly across the table, “if this engagement is nothing more than a political lie, you will not expect me to sacrifice my life to protect your throne.”

Aurelia studied his fierce expression carefully. Beneath his visible anger, she recognized something that she understood all too well: the desperate, battle-hardened determination of someone who had learned from a young age that every grand promise came with a hidden price.

“Agreed,” she said plainly.

Cassian immediately stepped forward in protest. “You cannot possibly bind the imperial throne to a commoner through an informal, private agreement!”

“I can bind myself to whatever agreement I deem fit,” Aurelia countered sharply.

“And what happens when he inevitably betrays you?” Cassian challenged her.

Aurelia's eyes turned icy cold as she locked eyes with her uncle. “If he betrays me, then I will personally deal with him myself.”

She immediately ordered a royal scribe to draft the formal contract before the outraged council could raise another objection. Within minutes, a long sheet of fine pale parchment was smoothed out across the surface of the black table, its corners weighted down by heavy silver seals. Julian read every single line with meticulous care while Aurelia stood directly opposite him, personally altering clauses with the precise skill of someone who had survived far too many betrayals to ever trust an unexamined document.

The written agreement formally granted Julian a recognized, untouchable position at court, granted Tomas total immunity from prosecution, and strictly prohibited the royal scholars from conducting any magical testing without Julian's explicit permission. In exchange for these protections, Julian was required to stand beside Aurelia during public ceremonies, attend high political functions, and maintain the convincing facade of a genuine romantic engagement until the empress formally declared the arrangement concluded.

It was an entirely practical and sensible arrangement given their perilous circumstances, and the reality of it should have offered him some comfort. However, Julian was suddenly seized by an inexplicable sense of lingering dread as the royal scribe approached the final line of the document.

A fresh sentence had materialized directly beneath the agreed terms, written in a dark red ink that glistened as though it had been freshly spilled onto the page.

The bearer shall stand beside the sovereign until the final hour, when one must surrender the other to preserve the world.

Julian instantly reached out and seized the edge of the parchment. “Who wrote this sentence?”

The royal scribe turned deathly pale, backing away with raised hands. “I did not write that, Your Majesty! I swear upon my life that I did not touch it!”

Aurelia leaned across the black table to examine the text. The moment her eyes scanned the blood-red sentence, her stoic expression shifted dramatically, and the surrounding temperature in the room seemed to drop sharply.

“Remove those words immediately,” she ordered, her voice trembling slightly.

The frightened scribe reached for his fine scraping knife, but before the metal edge could even touch the surface of the paper, the red letters began to move on their own. The wet ink crawled across the parchment like living veins, rapidly weaving itself between the standard legal clauses until the entire contract began to glow with a faint, golden light.

Julian's palm suddenly flared with an agonizing heat.

Aurelia's clock pendant responded instantly, releasing a sharp flash of brilliant light from her chest. The two ancient symbols pulsed in perfect unison, and a razor-thin line of fresh blood manifested across Julian's open palm without his skin ever breaking.

Lord Cassian stumbled backward away from the table in horror. “What dark sorcery have you brought into this room?” he demanded.

“I have done nothing!” Aurelia insisted, though clear fear had finally crept into her voice.

The heavy parchment suddenly folded itself in half, pressed together with a soft snap, and then opened wide once again. The mysterious sentence remained firmly inscribed upon the page, but it was now permanently written in a combination of Julian's fresh blood and Aurelia's elegant signature.

Julian stared at the empress across the table, his chest heaving. “Tell me right now that this is not another one of your political tricks.”

For the very first time, the usually composed empress offered no immediate answer to his demand. Instead, she slowly picked up a sharp ceremonial dagger resting beside the royal wax seal and pressed its edge against her thumb until a small bead of blood appeared. She touched her bleeding thumb directly to the contract, causing a wave of brilliant golden light to surge across the entire chamber.

The glowing parchment instantly absorbed the drop of blood.

Deep beneath the stone foundations of the palace, an ancient, massive mechanism began to turn with a low, terrifying rumble. Mira Thorne immediately drew her weapon as the massive council doors slammed shut of their own accord with a deafening crash. Every single candle in the room was extinguished simultaneously, leaving only the brightly glowing contract on the table to illuminate the terrified faces gathered around it.

Then, a low, ethereal voice echoed clearly from within the parchment itself.

“Two lives have been bound together. One must remember. One must forget.”

A sudden, overwhelming memory struck Julian's mind with such tremendous force that he nearly collapsed to the floor. He saw a terrifying vision of himself standing inside the grand throne room, clad in heavy imperial armor with a sword dripping with fresh blood in his right hand. Aurelia lay motionless at his feet, her golden crown shattered into pieces beside her body, while the entire palace burned violently beneath a pitch-black sky.

In the brief vision, she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and whispered her final words: “You promised you would remember me this time.”

The terrifying image vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Julian caught the edge of the heavy table with both hands, struggling desperately to draw air back into his lungs. Directly across from him, Aurelia had turned deathly pale, and silent tears glistened on her cheeks, though she seemed completely unaware that she was crying.

“What did you just see in that vision?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.

She slowly shook her head, forcing her posture to straighten. “I saw nothing at all.”

Julian knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was lying to him.

The glowing contract rolled itself tightly into a narrow cylinder and automatically sealed itself with a golden emblem. The unnatural light faded away, and the heavy chamber doors unlocked with a metallic click.

Lord Cassian stared at the sealed parchment as though it were a deadly, venomous serpent lying on the table. “This engagement must be called off immediately,” he insisted, his voice shaking. “Whatever dark entity has been summoned here today, this cannot be allowed to continue!”

Aurelia reached out, took the sealed contract from the table, and held it tightly against her chest. “No,” she replied coldly. “The engagement will proceed exactly as I announced.”

“Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider—”

“Leave this chamber immediately, Uncle!”

Cassian reluctantly obeyed her command, but the murderous look he directed at Julian before leaving promised that this matter was far from over.

When the council chamber finally emptied of all the nobles, Julian stepped closer to Aurelia, keeping his voice low. “You knew that something like this could happen when you brought me here.”

“I merely suspected that something unusual might occur,” she corrected him softly.

“That is not the same thing as being honest with me.”

“No,” she admitted, looking up at him. “It certainly isn't.”

Julian stepped even closer to her, lowering his tone further. “What does the contract mean by 'the final hour'? Why does it explicitly state that one of us must surrender the other?”

Aurelia looked down at the golden seal on the contract in her hands. “Because this empire was not originally built upon a golden throne,” she whispered. “It was built upon an unthinkable sacrifice.”

Before Julian could demand a clearer explanation, a palace guard burst into the chamber, his face pale with raw terror. “Your Majesty, forgive me for interrupting, but the guards have just discovered something horrifying in the eastern gallery!”

Aurelia's hand tightened around the scroll. “What have you found?”

The guard swallowed hard, struggling to speak. “The historic portrait of your mother... it has changed.”

Aurelia's eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, changed?”

“The woman in the painting is no longer depicted standing beside you, Your Majesty,” the guard explained, his voice trembling.

Julian felt the golden scar on his palm begin to burn with intense heat once again.

The guard turned his head and looked directly at Julian with wide eyes. “She is standing directly beside Lord Julian now.”

And beneath the altered painting, someone had carved a new, chilling inscription into the solid marble frame:

THE FIRST BETRAYAL HAS ALREADY HAPPENED.