The Empress did not allow the moment to settle into false confidence. As the weight of her impending ascension lingered in the air, she spoke again, her tone steady, deliberate, and far more grounded than the optimism that had briefly risen.
"There is another matter tied to Lechia," she said.
Both kings turned their full attention to her.
"When we reclaim it," she continued, "it cannot remain without direction. Power vacuums do not stay empty, not in times like these."
The Blackmare king nodded slightly. "Then you intend to restore its former rule."
A faint pause followed.
The Empress's gaze did not waver. "No."
That single word shifted the tone again.
"My son will not sit on that throne again," she said.
King Highmoor's expression hardened slightly, though he did not interrupt.
The Blackmare king frowned, his voice careful now. "You speak of the one currently ruling under the usurpers."
"Yes," she replied. "For now, he holds Lechia in their name."
