WAIT? WHAT?
I whipped my head towards Dumont.
He was smiling calmly at me, like he hadn't just declared me heir to one of the most powerful families in existence.
"Grandfather..." I mumbled shakily.
Tessron tightened his grip on my shoulder, giving me a small nod.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Whispers broke out like sparks across dry parchment.
"Father! This is unfair! What about me?" a sharp voice rang out from the floor.
"Why are you insistent on making that impure runt the heir?" Theron—my ever-so-lovely uncle—snarled, dropping his monocle.
CLINK.
The glass shattered against the marble.
The crowd fell deathly silent.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Laughter echoed through the still air—sharp, unhinged, almost elegant in its disrespect.
Who the hell is insane enough to—
"Can I take it as a challenge?" a voice drawled from the side.
Aurelian stood at the edge of the gathering, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief, still trying to contain his laughter.
He looked delighted.
Who invited this menace?
I turned to look at Tessron, who turned away, avoiding my gaze.
At least, he didn't crash the party!
"Y-You! Who invited you?" Theron stammered out the question everyone—including me—wanted to ask.
Aurelian looked bored, and he combed through his light brown hair, giving him a little shrug.
"Father! Tessron is associating himself with people of this sort!" Theron fumed, pointing to Aurelian with his nostrils flaring.
"I came expecting drama, but this is boring. The audacity you have to point a finger at an Ultra-Elite... I hope you have your will ready," Aurelian drawled out, his grey eyes turning cold.
Theron visibly shivered, and the crowd gasped, moving away from Aurelian.
Aurelian raised his eyebrow, openly challenging Theron.
Theron looked conflicted—weighing his pride and his life.
CLINK.
Dumont glared sternly, silencing the crowd.
"Theron! This is not how you behave. Show yourself OUT!" Dumont said calmly.
Theron took it as an escape route and dipped.
Now, that went well!
"And you—you strut around like you own everything. It's not long before you trip and fall," Dumont continued, his sharp eyes fixed on Aurelian.
I held my breath, waiting for a snarky comeback or a map-altering fight; moderation is not in this dictionary.
Thank heavens! Aurelian smirked.
"I am waiting for that day, old man," he gave Dumont a fake salute, walking towards the champagne stand.
"Still, this is preposterous, Lord Dumont. How can you make a six-year-old your next heir?" an agitated old Elite yelled.
Murmurs rippled in agreement.
And then—
Just like that, wisps of blue light enveloped me.
The crowd turned.
From a distance, Nyx soared in full phoenix form—wings wide, tail blazing with divine glow.
She descended slowly and landed on my shoulder.
A spectacle.A statement.A divine middle finger.
CLINK! SSHHHH!
A few people dropped their glasses, and a man tripped and fell on the champagne tower—much to Aurelian's dismay.
"It is a PHOENIX," someone gasped, and camera flashes went wild.
Dumont gave me a push, urging me to talk, handing me an aura-infused amplifier.
What should I say?
I cleared my throat. This is the make-or-break moment.
Nyx puffed her chest, clearly enjoying all the attention. Traitor!
Okay, time to channel my inner Viktor, I guess.
I gave the crowd a half-smile, trying to look confident.
"I am pleased to welcome you all. As you can see, this divine messenger has bonded with my soul, blessing me with wisdom beyond my age." I flipped my hair, pushing it back.
It would've looked more impressive if my hair hadn't bounced right back into my face.
I cleared my throat again, and Nyx let out wisps of flame.
"Come on, tell them how I saved your ass!" she inserted mentally.
"I don't remember signing up for the prompting subscription!" I shot back.
OUT LOUD.
The crowd went quiet.
I cleared my throat as Arxia laughed out loud.
I heard a few whispers and camera clicks.
"Uh, yes. I am six and getting used to the communication," I said, giving the crowd a firm nod.
"We didn't get any prophecies," I heard someone mutter.
"Is that even a real phoenix? What if it's an Aura-bot? It is quite small." A woman in red sequins agreed eagerly.
You know what?Screw it. Full send.
I snapped my fingers near the amplifier.The murmurs died instantly.
"Phoenixes are messengers from the gods," I said smoothly."How would she deliver prophecy—if she was with someone?"
A pause. Still some doubt.
"To build a fake phoenix—a functioning aura-bot—you'd need:A Class-5 computing system.A research permit.An active aura mine."
I gave the crowd a dry smile.
"My uncle, as you may know, recently lost the tender to one."
Silence.
"So unless my family secretly decided to bankrupt themselves to stage a one-night prank...""I suggest you stop insulting her intelligence."
I crossed my arms.
Some nobles nodded. A few straightened their backs. A few bowed.
I smirked.
I have convinced professors in my past life. This is nothing.
Nyx's voice slid through the bond like silk-wrapped judgment.
"You have a talent for spinning lies."
"I'm calling it diplomacy."I didn't say that one out loud. Thank the gods.
"Why was the temple not made aware of this? If a phoenix can bond with a mixed-blood like you, does this mean WE are not, by any means, inferior? Is Voltaries' family taking an equalitarian stand?" I heard a smooth voice ask, breaking the silence.
Aurelian.He is using this for his propaganda!
All the cameras turned to him as he casually sipped his champagne.
He kidnapped me and somehow made it look like charity work.
I hate this man.
I HATE politics. This is why I shouldn't speak in public.
"The phoenix answers only to the divine. We are but witnesses to her will. If this moment inspires hope... we welcome it," I said, trying to appear composed.
I looked at Dumont for help. He had an amused glint in his eyes.
I guess I am on my own!
"Can we make the phoenix the symbol of Liberation?"Aurelian asked, his smirk deepening with the kind of charm that should come with a public health warning.
I felt Nyx shift ever so slightly on my shoulder—like even she wasn't sure if she was a spiritual guide or a recruitment poster.
The last thing I want is to be his mascot.
"He was shunned by his family for being mixed, right?" someone whispered.
"Didn't he lead the Liberation Army for commoner rights?" the chatter intensified.
It's about HIM now. I have to say something!
He's trying to drag the Voltaries into siding with his rebellion—And he's doing it with a smile, in front of nobles, cameras, and gods know who else.
If we nod, we're allies.If we deny it, we insult a divine creature.
Checkmate.