(Lourice's POV)
The air in the Council Hall was still vibrating with the aftermath of the Queen's fury. As we walked through the stone corridors toward the North Wing, the sound of Eri's footsteps was a steady, rhythmic pulse—sharp and disciplined. A trail of chambermaids followed us, their heads bowed in practiced silence.
"Lourice," Eri said, her voice smooth but carrying a dangerous edge. "I will personally conduct a surprise visit to every city under Lord Gidon's influence. I want the palanquins ready by dawn. No warnings. No formal announcements. I want to see the truth of Uran with my own eyes."
"It shall be done, Your Majesty," I replied. "I will coordinate with the Royal Guard immediately."
"They think the throne has made me soft," she continued, her gaze fixed forward. "They think my marriage is a distraction that will allow their corruption to—"
Eri's voice died out mid-sentence. Her pace, usually as relentless as a storm, suddenly slowed.
I followed her gaze toward the arched stone bridge crossing the river garden. My heart skipped a beat. There stood the Queen Consort, a vibrant splash of light yellow silk against the shimmering silver trees of Kazunaga. She wasn't alone. Prince Haru was leaning toward her, his deep blue robes almost brushing her sleeves. They were laughing—a sound so bright and genuine it felt like a foreign language in this palace.
I looked at Eri. Her face was a mask of cold indifference, but I have served her long enough to know her silence. Her eyes weren't just watching; they were anchored on the space between Elara and the Prince.
As we approached, the wind shook the wisteria above the bridge. A silver leaf drifted down, tangling in Elara's dark hair. Haru didn't hesitate; he stepped into her space, his hand reaching out to brush the leaf away. Their faces were inches apart, a moment of childhood intimacy that felt like a heavy weight in the quiet garden.
Eri's walking didn't stop, but it became heavy. The rustle of her crimson robes finally caught their attention.
The laughter evaporated instantly. Haru jerked his hand back, and Elara stood frozen, her eyes wide with a visible, trembling tension. I stepped forward, offering a deep, formal bow to the group.
"Your Highness, Prince Haru," I greeted. Then, turning to Elara with a respectful nod, "Your Majesty, the Queen Consort."
Eri stopped a few paces away. She didn't offer a smile. She didn't even look at Haru at first. Her eyes were locked entirely on Elara.
"Your Majesty," Haru stammered, his face turning pale. "I... I wanted to thank you again for granting my request to have Lady Miya reside here. It means everything to Elara."
Eri's gaze flickered to Miya, who stood with her head bowed. The Queen gave a stiff, regal nod.
"It was a logical decision," Eri said, her voice lacking any warmth. She turned her gaze back to Elara, her eyes softening by only a fraction. "I want my wife to be surrounded by familiar faces. I would not have her feel like a stranger in her own home."
She looked at Miya. "Consider this your home, Miya. Do not be hesitant. My wife's comfort is the palace's priority."
Then, Eri did something that made my own breath hitch. She stepped forward—slowly, deliberately—until she was standing directly in front of Elara. The wind picked up, fluttering the long, delicate ribbons of Elara's yellow Hanbok at her waist.
Eri reached out. Her fingers, usually so firm, were surprisingly gentle as she caught the fluttering silk. She didn't just fix the ribbon; she smoothed it slowly against Elara's waist, her hand lingering there in a silent, possessive claim made right in front of the Prince.
"See you this evening... my wife," Eri murmured.
I glanced at the others. Prince Haru's forehead was knotted in a deep scowl, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and jealousy. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but the Queen's presence had effectively silenced him.
Then I looked at Miya. She was visibly shocked, her eyes darting between Eri's hand and Elara's flushed face. She bit her lower lip, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth that she tried desperately to hide. It was clear—even the newcomer could feel the suffocating tension of a Queen claiming what was hers.
Eri offered a slight, sharp nod and turned on her heel. "Come, Lourice."
I offered one final bow. "Your Highness. Lady Miya. Your Majesty."
As I hurried to catch up, I saw Elara swallow hard, her throat bobbing as she stared at Eri's retreating back. She looked shaken, as if she had forgotten how to breathe.
Eri's pace was lethal again, her head held high. She didn't look back, but as her shadow, I knew the truth. The Queen hadn't just settled a political matter; she had just marked her territory.
And from the way the Consort was still staring, the message had been received loud and clear