The Union Hall did not echo today.
It absorbed.
Absorbed voices, arguments, heavy steps—absorbed the fear that clung to every envoy present. By the time the evening session began, the hall felt colder, darker, and dangerously expectant.
The golden crest of the Union—twelve interlocked rings—hung above the council table like an eye watching every breath.
Lysandra stood at the center circle designated for sovereigns under investigation.
Daren stood directly behind her.
Serene and Rhedon took positions along the side railings.
Every council member was present.
Every political enemy was waiting.
Every ally was silent.
Not a good sign.
The Return to Hostility
The presiding councilor, Lord Magistrate Armand Halstrin, struck his gavel.
"Let this session resume. We will now address the grievances filed against Sir Daren Vale, knight of the Valenfirth throne."
Serene whispered sharply, "Here it comes."
Lysandra's fingers curled around the railing, knuckles white. Daren's stance straightened, though he said nothing.
Halstrin continued, "Asterfell's envoy claims misconduct, dereliction of role… and improper personal attachment to the Empress."
The last accusation dropped like poison into a well.
Murmurs rippled across the hall.
Lysandra's eyes went cold.
Daren felt the temperature shift—it wasn't anger.
It was fury held so tightly it became ice.
She spoke first, voice crisp as steel.
"These accusations are unfounded and irrelevant to the inquiry. They are based on rumour, and on nothing resembling law."
Halstrin stroked his beard. "Nevertheless, they are grievances filed formally. They must be addressed."
Daren stepped forward. "I acted within my duties at every stage. I will defend my conduct point by point."
Lysandra shot him a glance—warning, worry, something deeper.
But she didn't stop him.
Cross-Examination of the Knight
Envoy Vassan of Asterfell stood, smugness leaking through his bow.
"Sir Vale," he began, "you were engaged in close proximity with Her Majesty during the palace attack. Catastrophically close, some might say."
Daren stared at him evenly. "My role is to stay within three strides of Her Majesty at all times during a threat."
"And yet," Vassan continued, "your behaviour afterward has raised concern. You follow her to private briefings. You advise her in matters outside military affairs. Some say you influence her decisions."
"Those 'some'," Serene muttered, "are idiots."
Daren answered, "I advise her when asked. She is my ruler."
"And nothing more?"
A sharp waiting silence.
Daren didn't flinch. "Nothing more. I am her knight. My loyalty is duty, not indulgence."
Lysandra swallowed.
Halstrin leaned back, disappointed, as if hoping for a misstep.
Vassan shifted tactics.
"Then explain why Your Majesty selected you—rather than a diplomatic escort—to accompany her today."
Lysandra stepped forward. "Because assassination attempts aren't diplomatic matters."
She spoke before Daren could.
Halstrin's brow rose. "Empress Lysandra, you will remain silent unless addressed."
She froze.
Daren's fists clenched.
Serene hissed under her breath, "How dare they—"
But Lysandra regained composure, nodded once, and stepped back.
Daren continued, "My presence was necessary for the Empress's safety. Nothing more."
"And yet," Vassan said, "your presence seems to… embolden her."
"Objection," Serene snapped.
Halstrin banged his gavel. "Princess Serene, you are not permitted to—"
"She is permitted," Lysandra said suddenly, voice like a blade. "Her position grants her right of counsel."
Halstrin narrowed his eyes.
This time, he didn't push the issue.
Serene smirked in quiet triumph.
The Political Trap Falters
The questioning dragged on for nearly an hour. Every accusation thrown at Daren fell flat. Every attempt to hint at impropriety found no foothold.
Daren's answers were factual. Controlled. Honest.
Magistrate Rowan—who had interrogated them earlier—watched silently from the observer's bench.
When Halstrin attempted once more to corner Lysandra…
"Did you instruct Sir Vale to act outside his authority?"
"No."
"You deny a personal bond influencing your rule?"
"I deny the implication that loyalty is a crime."
Halstrin's jaw tightened.
The trap was failing.
So he changed tactics.
The Heart of the Hearing
"Empress Lysandra," Halstrin said, "before deciding the fate of Asterfell's king, we must clarify your claim of attempted assassination."
Lysandra lifted her chin. "My claim is factual."
"Your evidence is incomplete."
"It is sufficient."
"Let us determine that."
Asterfell's envoy leaned forward eagerly.
Halstrin spoke slowly, enunciating like a man savoring his power.
"Empress Lysandra of Valenfirth, state clearly: do you accuse King Mavren of Asterfell of ordering an attempt on your life?"
The hall stiffened.
Serene's breath halted.
Rhedon's jaw flexed.
Daren felt the air thin around them.
Lysandra answered steadily:
"Yes."
The hall erupted.
Voices rose, chairs scraped, envoys shouted over one another. Only Daren remained still, gaze fixed on Lysandra.
Halstrin had expected chaos—planned for it.
He struck the gavel again and again until the room quieted.
"We will now evaluate the credibility of this accusation."
He turned to Rowan.
"Magistrate Rowan. Present your findings."
All eyes snapped to the investigator.
Rowan stood, adjusting his gloves with quiet precision.
"My team reviewed testimonies, guard reports, and the Empress's and Sir Vale's statements," he said. "We also analyzed the time of infiltration, the weaponry used, and the escape routes."
Halstrin leaned forward. "And?"
Rowan's voice carried clearly:
"King Mavren's involvement is highly probable."
The hall froze.
Halstrin's expression cracked.
Asterfell's envoy went pale.
Serene slapped Rhedon's arm in triumph.
Daren felt a breath leave him.
Lysandra said nothing—but her shoulders loosened fractionally.
Rowan continued, "However, there is no direct witness placing the order in his hand. What we do have is circumstantial, strong, but circumstantial nonetheless."
"Enough to accuse?" asked Councilor Thale.
"Enough to form a judgment."
Rowan handed a sealed parchment to Halstrin.
Halstrin scanned it, face darkening with every line.
The Sentence
Finally, he slammed the gavel.
"The Union Council has reached a decision."
The hall fell into stunned silence.
Halstrin looked at Lysandra—cold, resentful.
"King Mavren of Asterfell is hereby declared guilty of orchestrating a hostile action against a sovereign monarch, in violation of Article Eight of the Union Code."
The hall shook with gasps.
Daren exhaled through clenched teeth.
Serene began smiling—dangerously.
Lysandra did not move.
Halstrin continued reluctantly:
"The punishment, effective immediately—"
He paused.
Everyone leaned forward.
"—is the severing of diplomatic privileges and a five-year military limitation decree on the kingdom of Asterfell."
A wave of shocked murmurs.
Serene whispered, "That's… harsher than I expected."
Rhedon nodded. "They actually cut off his foreign military access."
Halstrin read the final line:
"Additionally, all Asterfell envoys are subject to surveillance for one year, and King Mavren must issue a formal public apology to Empress Lysandra."
Asterfell's envoy nearly choked.
The hall erupted again, but Halstrin's gavel cut through the chaos.
"This hearing is adjourned."
And with that, the storm ended.
The Exit
Lysandra held still in the center of the chaos, letting the room swirl around her—envoys storming off, advisors arguing, reporters shouting questions.
Daren approached her quietly.
"Your Majesty."
She turned.
Her eyes were no longer cold.
They were tired. Deeply, profoundly tired.
"You were right," she whispered. "This was a trap."
"And you walked out of it standing."
She gave him a small, exhausted smile.
"I didn't walk out alone."
Serene rushed in, throwing her arms around her sister. "Lysandra, you did it! They punished him! I can't believe it!"
Rhedon bowed. "Justice prevailed today. Narrowly, but clearly."
Lysandra looked at Daren.
"Thanks to all of you."
Her gaze lingered on him.
Longer than it should have.
Long enough for Serene to notice and raise an eyebrow in silent amusement.
The Final Step Outside
As they stepped into the open-air courtyard, sunset burned the sky in streaks of gold and red. The breeze carried the scents of city stone and distant sea.
Lysandra paused.
"Daren."
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
She hesitated—something rare.
"When Magistrate Rowan said you were loyal 'beyond reproach'… you should know… it mattered."
He bowed his head. "I serve because I choose to."
"Even when it endangers you?"
"Especially then."
Her breath caught.
For a moment—
for one fragile heartbeat—
the world shrank to the space between them.
Serene cleared her throat loudly.
Both looked away.
"We have work to do," Lysandra said quickly. "This punishment is only the beginning. Mavren will retaliate."
Daren nodded. "Then we'll be ready."
Her eyes softened. "Yes. We will."
The sun dipped lower.
The Union hearing was over.
But the war it foretold…
was only beginning.