Verlice Estate
In the dining hall the long table sat in silence, save for the soft clink of silverware. A fire crackled low in the hearth. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows in pale beams. The Verlice family was having breakfast.
Winter sat with his father, Everret Verlice, and mother, Lady Solena.
Everret cut into his meat with slow, deliberate movements. His expression was stone.
Everret: "The situation on the northern border has worsened."
Winter looked up.
Everret: "The Logan Empire's pushed through again. Two villages—gone. Swallowed overnight."
Solena (quietly): "And the people?"
Everret: "Scattered. Dead. Or praying the capital hasn't forgotten them."
He leaned back, wiping his hands with a cloth.
"They've unleashed beasts. Not soldiers—creatures. Sent straight into the villages. Tore through the guards. Even the scouts didn't stand a chance."
Winter's hand stilled around his cup. His jaw tightened.
Winter: "The Lord of Elthur Viscount Golwig was stationed there."
Everret: "He's dead. They found what was left of him by the river. The moment he fell, morale collapsed. The people are fleeing—no order, no plan. Just fear."
A heavy silence fell.
Everret: "The Emperor won't ignore this. Not today. Expect a decision in the war chamber before noon."
Solena: "They'll ask for reinforcements."
Winter: "Then let them. I'll go."
Everret's eyes locked onto his son's. Measuring. Silent.
Everret: "You may not return."
Winter: "Then I'll burn the way back."
Another pause. Outside, faint thunder rumbled.
Solena (murmuring): "Your storms again…"
Winter didn't answer. His grip loosened on the cup. But his eyes stayed cold.
Imperial War Chambers
Golden light spills across a long, map-covered table. Red markers dot the parchment like fresh blood. Emperor Kaelen stands tall, one hand on his sword hilt, the other pressed to the North.
Emperor (scoffs): "Two villages. Burned to the ground. Drelmere and Kessal. The Logans don't wait long when they smell weakness."
Everret: "Maximus Adler and his Highness the Second Prince are stationed just south. We'll have word before dusk."
Emperor: "They better."
A beat
"A Viscount dead. Creatures stirring in the mountain passes. And the Council still debates trade routes."
A knock. A servant peeks in, bows low.
Servent: "Your Imperial Majesty… Grand Duke Henry Adler seeks audience."
Emperor: "Send him in. I've been waiting."
Henry enters. He bows—but tension clings to his shoulders. The Emperor doesn't sit. His gaze pins them both.
Emperor (slow, calm): "Now that both of you are here…Let's talk about the engagement."
A quiet beat. Henry and Everret exchange a subtle glance.
Henry Adler: "Your Majesty."
Everret: "Yes, Your Majesty."
The Emperor circles the table slowly, then lowers himself into the chair. His voice is low, deliberate.
Emperor: "It wasn't just to quiet last night's chaos."
Pause
"This isn't a shield. It's a blade. And I trust you both understand the difference."
Henry: "I take your meaning."
Everret: "We understand what's at stake."
Emperor: "Winter has always done what is asked. Without noise. Without pride. That kind of control—it's rare."
Beat
"Levi, though... she's a storm barely leashed. But storms reshape the land. They don't kneel. They carve."
He leans back, eyes thoughtful.
Emperor: "And somehow—he steadies her, and she stirs him. They reflect each other. Where one holds the blade, the other strikes. Where one walks the line, the other dares to cross it."
Henry folds his hands behind his back. Considering.
Henry: "You believe this union will work your Majesty?
Emperor (quietly): "I believe it must. I believe they can survive each other—maybe even shape each other. And that's more than I can say for most marriages in this court."
Everret: "You think the war's already begun?"
Emperor: "Not officially. But Drelmere and Kessal are ash. Golvig's dead. The mountains whisper louder every day. So yes, Everret. The war has begun. We just haven't signed the papers yet."
He leans forward now, commanding.
Emperor: "Maximus is your brother, Henry. Alexander is my blood. They're holding the North. If the Council won't see what's coming—I need both of you to stand behind me. Fully. Without hesitation."
Henry: "You have my word, Your Majesty."
Everret: "And mine."
The Emperor rises.
Emperor: "Good. Then let's leave sentiment behind. The High Council awaits."
High Council Meeting Hall
The vaulted hall of dark stone and high windows casts long shadows. The Council table stretches, gilded chairs arranged in a crescent. Nobles, war ministers, and family heads murmur low until the Emperor enters. The room goes still as he strides forward, his presence like a heavy weight.
Emperor (smooth, commanding): "Silence."
It falls like a blade. The Emperor remains standing, hands clasped behind his back.
Emperor: "I trust you've all heard of Golvig's fall."
A few nods. One Councilor dares to speak.
Marquess Renvar: "There's still doubt about who was responsible. Bandits, perhaps—"
Emperor(interrupting, voice cold): "Two villages razed. A Viscount dead. My son and Grand Duke Adler's brother are in the North—because it wasn't bandits."
The weight of his words hangs in the air.
Emperor: "I want official opinions on the table. Now. What do we do?"
Lady Welrow (Trade Minister): "If the northern roads are compromised, we risk losing all major supply routes by winter."
Lord Vance (War Minister) "With respect, we should already be mobilizing the third battalion. We need more eyes on the East mountains—creature sightings are increasing."
The room grows tense as the Council begins to murmur. Levi and Winter sit across from each other, exchanging a brief, meaningful glance before returning their attention to the discussion. The air between them is thick with unspoken words, but neither speaks. The tension is palpable.
Councilor Ardin (pensively): "Then I propose we send supplies, mobilize the battalion, and monitor the situation for a month. If nothing improves, we'll face it head-on."
The majority murmurs in agreement, the plan seeming sound, but a few dissenters are quick to challenge it.
Lady Welrow (nods in agreement): "Yes, but we must also consider the trade routes. If the northern lands fall, we'll have far worse problems than just security."
Lord Vance: "We can't afford to wait. The situation in the North is escalating daily. We need action, not observation."
Lady Welrow (speaking firmly): "We'll send the battalion to control the situation. Meanwhile, we recall Prince Alexander. He's needed in the capital."
The Emperor listens, sharp and calculating.
Emperor (slowly, decisively): "A reasonable plan. Prepare the battalion, send the supplies. And I agree—Prince Alexander must return."
The Council quiets. The Emperor's gaze shifts, and the room shifts with it. A new matter is about to surface.
Grand Duke Darius Houston HAYES steps forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. His question hangs heavy, a subtle shift that captures the room's attention.
Darius Hayes: "If I may, Your Majesty… Can we discuss what happened last night? The engagement. Is it true that an official decree is soon to be issued?"
The air in the room thickens. The conversation about the North halts abruptly. All eyes turn toward the Emperor. Levi and Winter feel the weight of the moment between them, but neither speaks. The Emperor's gaze hardens, but his voice remains steady.
Emperor (sternly): "Yes. I will issue the decree soon. And I expect the full support of both the Verlice and Adler families."
A tense silence follows. The weight of his words hangs in the air. Levi's hand clenches into a fist under the table, but she remains outwardly composed. Winter keeps his gaze straight ahead, unmoving. The tension between them is thick, but neither acknowledges it.
Darius Hayes (softly, watching the Emperor's face): "Of course, Your Majesty."
Emperor (flatly): "I trust both families will uphold the arrangement. No hesitations."
The room is thick with unspoken tension. The murmurs of approval or dissent are stifled. Levi and Winter share another glance, but neither speaks.
The Emperor looks toward the door, signaling the meeting is not yet over. The weight of this decision—and all the others—will be felt long after today's discussion
Private Chambers of Consort Ivory
The room is lavish, but cold, as if no warmth has touched it for some time. Ivory stands by the window, her back straight, her gaze fixed on the darkening sky. She's dressed in a regal, yet somber gown—her demeanor is stiff, controlled, but there's a fire building within her. The only sound is the distant rumble of thunder.
Beck enters, his usual confident posture faltering at the sight of her.
Beck (softly, trying to ease the tension): "Mother… I'm here. What is it you needed to discuss?"
Ivory turns slowly, her icy eyes narrowing. She tilts her head, studying him, as if deciding whether to tear into him or let him breathe. But the weight of her disappointment is clear, her patience worn thin.
Ivory (cutting through the silence, voice frigid): "You've done nothing but disappoint me today, Beck. Nothing but act like a spoiled child, caught in the game of politics, with no sense of the gravity of our situation."
She moves toward him, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Her words pierce through the air, each one more venomous than the last.
Ivory (stepping closer): "You've failed to manage the expectations of this court, and now the Emperor is sending us further into a mess we can't control. You think a marriage will fix this? That Winter Verlice will simply fall into line because of some arranged union?"
Beck, standing taller than his mother, tries to hold his ground, but her glare digs deep. He knows she's right, but his pride refuses to acknowledge the full truth.
Beck (defensively): "It's not just about Winter, Mother. There's more at play here than you realize—"
Ivory (interrupting, eyes blazing): "More? Oh, I realize exactly what's happening. I realize you've been playing at politics for far too long, while your brother stands at the front of the war, leading the way for us all."
She takes a step back, her voice sharp as she continues.
Ivory (cutting): "Where are your plans? Where is your ambition? All I've seen are empty gestures. You've failed to protect the family's future, Beck. And now, I am forced to pick up the pieces."
Beck's jaw tightens, but he doesn't respond. He knows better than to argue back when she's like this. Still, frustration builds in his chest, and he speaks, quieter now.
Beck (quietly): "I'm trying, Mother. I am."
Ivory (voice growing colder): "Trying is not enough."
A beat.
"You've made your choice, haven't you? You've let the Emperor dictate your future, and you've let Winter dictate this engagement."
She steps forward again, her presence looming over him. Her gaze doesn't waver for a second.
Ivory (softly, venomous): "And if you think for a second that this union will save you, save us, you are gravely mistaken. Winter Verlice may be a storm—but you, my dear son, are the calm before the disaster."
Beck swallows hard, but his mother's words leave him speechless. Ivory looks at him one last time, her expression turning into something that borders on pity.
Ivory (tightly): "Fix this, Beck. Or everything—everything we've worked for—will crumble before your eyes."
She steps back, her gaze now turning icy and calculating. A pause hangs in the air before she speaks again, her voice even colder now, like the final strike of an ice pick.
Ivory (sneering): "And what was that stunt you pulled with that maid last night, hmm? Do you think your father will let us step foot in court again after that? You've only made things worse for us."
Beck's face tightens, the shame of his actions now clear in the line of his jaw. His pride burns, but he can't ignore the truth in her words.
Ivory (tight, dangerous): "You've jeopardized everything, Beck. And now your father won't allow us near the court for a while. Do you think your little games will shield you from the consequences of this mess?"
Beck, utterly defeated, stands there for a moment longer, staring at the ground. His mother's words cut deeper than anything she's said before. He can feel the weight of her disappointment, her anger wrapping around him like a vice.
Beck (quietly, resigned): "I'm sorry, Mother. I will… try to make it right."
Ivory looks at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable, before she turns away sharply, dismissing him without another word.
Ivory (softly, without turning back): "You'd better, Beck. For all our sakes."
Beck stands frozen, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he's failed her, failed the family. Slowly, he turns and leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving Ivory alone with her thoughts.
PALACE CORRIDOR – LATE AFTERNOON
The hallway stretches in solemn stillness, pale sunlight casting long shadows through tall arched windows. Levi walks briskly, heels clicking against polished marble. Winter follows, his steps slower, deliberate.
She stops at a colonnade, gaze fixed on the horizon. She doesn't turn.
Levi (stiffly): "You followed me, Young Duke."
Winter (calm, steady): "You seemed… unsettled, My Lady."
She turns just enough for him to catch her eyes—hard, gleaming.
Levi: Unsettled? That's a gracious word for being offered like a pawn.
Winter: "We've always been pawns. This time, we're just better dressed."
She exhales, sharp, almost bitter.
Levi: "So you're fine with it then? Being dressed up and paraded like strategy?"
Winter: "It's not about being fine with it. The Council whispers. The Emperor decides. We move."
Levi: "There's no decree. Not yet. We could stop this. Quietly. Before it's signed."
A pause. Winter's jaw shifts. He steps closer, Voice low.
Winter: "And who takes the fall? My House? Yours? Or you alone?"
Levi: "I'd take it. Gladly."
Winter: "You think it ends there? The Empire will say the Adler name flinched. That the girl born of war heroes retreated before duty knocked."
Silence.
Levi: "Let them say it. I don't care."
Winter: "But you care about your people. You always have. Would you let them bear the shame of your silence?"
That lands. Her fingers curl slightly at her sides. Her voice lowers.
Levi: "What would you risk, Winter Verlice?"
He doesn't flinch.
Winter: "Everything. If I believed it would fix this."A beat"But we both know it won't."
The tension pulls tighter, their breaths shallow in the quiet corridor. The world feels distant.
Winter (softer):"If you mean to end this, do it soon. Before my father's seal finds the page. After that… there's no graceful escape. Only noise and scars."
Levi doesn't answer. Her silence is her shield.
She turns away, spine straight, jaw clenched. Winter watches her retreat down the corridor, his fists tightening at his sides—quiet fury, restrained regret.