"Enough!"
The voice echoed through the grand hall like thunder, instantly freezing the air.
Elena stopped dead in her tracks, her hand still raised to strike Lyra a second time.
She whipped around to see her father, Duke Alistair Valerius, marching down the corridor.
His face was dark with anger.
"Father!"
Elena cried out, her eyes watering with fake tears.
"She stole my place! The Emperor insulted us! Why are you defending this half-breed trash?!"
The Duke stepped up to Elena and, to her absolute shock, grabbed her wrist and forced her hand down.
But his angry expression quickly melted into a cold, calculating smirk.
"You foolish girl,"
Alistair sneered, adjusting his silver cuffs.
"Do you truly think I am defending her? Tell me, Elena, why would I waste my most prized, high-mana daughter on a boy who is destined to die early?"
Elena blinked, the rage slowly fading from her face as she processed his words.
"Die early...?"
"Prince Zion is cursed,"
The Duke said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
"Everyone in the Empire knows it. His mana is unstable, chaotic, and dangerous. The Royal Family despises him. He will either be assassinated in his sleep by a rival faction, or his own twisted magic will tear him apart from the inside. Why would I tie you to a sinking ship?"
A cruel, twisted smile slowly spread across Elena's face.
She looked down at Lyra, who was still kneeling quietly on the marble floor.
"Ah... I see,"
Elena laughed, her voice dripping with venom.
"A cursed prince and a useless half-breed commoner. It really is a perfect match, isn't it? The Imperial garbage and the Southern trash, tossed into the same bin."
Lyra didn't say a single word.
She kept her head bowed, hiding the sharp, intelligent glint in her deep blue eyes.
Let them think she was trash.
Let them underestimate her.
It was exactly what she needed to survive.
[The Imperial Capital - The Second Prince's Quarters]
CRASH!
A heavy wooden chair shattered against the stone wall of my bedroom.
I stood in the center of the room, breathing heavily.
The massive, chaotic energy of the 3-Aditya boiled inside my chest, leaking out as a faint, crimson aura.
I was suffocating..
Sent to the South?..
I will be thrown away like a pawn?
I gritted my teeth.
I knew exactly how the Duke's family would treat me.
I knew how they treated everyone weaker than them.
I refused to go down to their territory and be locked in a cage.
I was a prince of the Kaelen Empire, even if they called me cursed.
I turned on my heel, kicked the shattered pieces of the chair out of my way, and marched out of my quarters.
I walked straight through the massive, echoing halls of the Main Palace.
The Royal Guards flinched as I passed by, terrified of the chaotic mana radiating from my body.
I didn't care.
I marched right up to the massive double doors of the Emperor's private study.
I didn't wait to be announced.
I just knocked once, and pushed the doors open.
CRACK!
"Father."
I said, my voice steady.
Emperor Aldric sat behind his massive obsidian desk, surrounded by maps of the three kingdoms. He didn't look surprised.
He slowly set down his quill and locked his terrifying, icy eyes onto mine.
"You enter my study without permission, Zion,"
Aldric said coldly.
"Speak quickly."
I stepped forward, forcing myself not to back down under his overwhelming pressure.
"I will agree to this political marriage. I will marry Lyra Valerius."
"That was never a question."
Aldric replied.
"It is a decree."
"But I have a condition.."
I shot back.
For the first time in my life, I saw a flicker of genuine shock cross the Emperor's face. No one gave the Emperor conditions.
"...Oh?.."
Aldric leaned back on his throne.
"And what if I disagree?"
I looked him dead in the eyes, letting a fraction of my suppressed, world-breaking mana bleed into the room.
The air around me began to crackle with dark red lightning.
"I know you won't disagree, Father,"
I said, keeping my voice dangerously calm.
"You need this political tie to keep the South in check. But if you send me down to the Valerius Estate, I will either be assassinated by the Duke's spies, or I will survive and tear their territory apart. I will not be a prisoner in the South."
I took a deep breath.
"Give me my own estate here. On the outskirts of the Capital. Lyra and I will stay here."
The silence in the room was deafening.
Aldric stared at me.
Behind his mask of ice, his mind was racing.
(He was secretly relieved. Keeping the son he needed to protect, and the daughter of the woman who saved his life, right here in the Capital where his Royal Guards could watch over them? It was the perfect solution.)
Slowly, the Emperor nodded.
"Very well,"
Aldric commanded.
"You and your bride will be given the Outer Capital Estate. Do not make me regret this, Zion."
[The Valerius Estate - The Strategy Room]
Far away in the South, the heavy velvet curtains of the Duke's private study were drawn tight.
Duke Alistair stood at the head of a massive oak table.
Beside him stood his wife, Duchess Beatrice—a woman with eyes as cold as her High-Level Ice magic. Julian and Elena sat across from them, listening intently.
"So, the trash is staying in the Capital."
Duchess Beatrice sneered, swirling a glass of dark red wine.
"A shame. I was looking forward to making that half-breed girl scrub the floors of our dungeon for the rest of her life."
"..Patience, Beatrice."
The Duke said smoothly, placing a map of the Imperial Capital on the table.
"This is actually better for us. It places our pawn directly inside the enemy's walls."
Julian leaned forward, his bruised jaw still twitching from where Princess Seraphina had punched him.
"I don't understand, Father. How does giving away the useless girl help us claim the throne?"
Alistair slammed a dagger directly into the center of the map—right on the Imperial Palace.
"Because the Second Prince is a ticking time bomb."
The Duke declared, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
"His mana is cursed. He has enemies everywhere. He will die. And when he does, Lyra will be a grieving Imperial Widow. As her family, we will have a direct, legal reason to march our armies into the Capital to 'protect' her."
Duchess Beatrice's eyes lit up with cruel realization.
"We use the half-breed as a stepping stone."
"Exactly…"
Alistair whispered.
"We will pretend to be the loyal in-laws. We will plant our spies in their new estate. And the moment the Cursed Prince falls... House Valerius will take the Empire."