BOUND BY ROYALTY

CHAPTER 17

The heavy silence of my office was disrupted by a sharp knock on the door. I exhaled, pressing my fingers against my temple before straightening in my chair. Papers were scattered across my desk. Documents regarding border negotiations, reports on the empire's grain stores, and, of course, an ever-growing pile of correspondence from the noble houses.

"Enter," I called, already knowing who it was.

The door creaked open, and Eamon, my ever-efficient assistant, stepped inside, his expression composed but firm. "Your Highness," he said, bowing slightly. "The council is waiting. The meeting is about to begin."

I rose to my feet, smoothing the sleeves of my coat. The past few days had been filled with nothing but whispers and speculation. Ever since the conversation with my father, I had known this would come, I had known I would have to face them myself.

If they wanted to question my marriage, then I would make it clear where I stood.

I strode toward the door, Eamon falling into step beside me as we walked through the winding halls of the palace. The morning light filtered through the high windows, casting long shadows along the marble floors. Servants hurried past, offering deep bows as I passed, but my mind was elsewhere.

Lucian.

His expression when my father had spoken of an heir had been guarded, but I had seen the unease behind his eyes. I had seen the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers had tightened ever so slightly against his robes.

I had meant every word I said to him that night, I would not let the council dictate our marriage. But I knew the nobles. I knew their hunger for control, their need to twist things in their favor.

Today, I would remind them who truly held power in this empire.

When we reached the council chamber, the guards stationed outside pushed open the grand doors, revealing the long table within. The noble lords and royal council members were already seated, their conversations dying down the moment I stepped inside.

I took my place at the head of the table, my posture straight, my expression unreadable.

Duke Ravon, an elder statesman with graying hair and a sharp gaze, was the first to speak. "Your Highness," he greeted smoothly, folding his hands together. "We are honored by your presence today. I assume you have been informed of our concerns."

"I have," I replied evenly, scanning the room. "And I assume you all have been informed of my stance."

A murmur rippled through the council members. Some exchanged glances, while others sat still, their faces unreadable.

Marquis Verren leaned forward, his jeweled rings glinting in the candlelight. "We do not seek to interfere with your personal affairs, Your Highness," he said in a tone laced with careful diplomacy. "But the stability of the empire must be considered. The noble houses have expressed their unease. Five months have passed, and there is no indication of an heir. No confirmation that the marriage has been..."

I lifted a hand, cutting him off. "If you wish to ask about my personal affairs, Marquis, I suggest you tread carefully."

He hesitated but did not look away. "Forgive me, Your Highness. But we speak only of duty. The people look to you. The empire looks to you."

I let the silence stretch between us before speaking again. "And do you doubt my ability to rule?"

"Of course not," Duke Ravon interjected quickly. "Your rule is unquestioned. But you must understand that there are concerns about the future of the crown. A ruler's legacy is carried through his heirs. It is only natural that the court wishes for assurance."