Chapter 105: Chapter-105

“I’ll be attending. As your fiancé. Publicly.” His voice was firm. “And I’ll be making it very clear that any threat to you is a threat to me. That should deter most assassination attempts.”

“Most. Not all.”

“No. The Emperor’s test will still proceed. Ten thousand gold attracts contractors who don’t care about consequences.” Duke Romian paused. “But having me there publicly allied with you will reduce the threat level substantially.”

Elara processed this. He was right. Most professional assassins would refuse a contract once Duke Romian’s protection became public. Only the most skilled or most desperate would still attempt it.

That narrowed the field significantly.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t thank me. It’s strategic self-interest. You’re now my fiancée. Letting you get killed would reflect poorly on my protective capabilities.”

“Still. The gesture is appreciated.”

Duke Romian smiled slightly. “You know, for someone who doesn’t feel emotions, you’re very good at recognizing when they’d be appropriate to acknowledge.”

“I observe patterns. Most people expect gratitude in these situations. Providing it maintains positive relations.”

“That’s probably the most pragmatic explanation of courtesy I’ve ever heard.” He turned toward the door. “I need to return to my duties. But I’ll see you tomorrow at the dinner. Arrive with your beast knight escort. I’ll meet you at the entrance and we’ll enter together.”

“Publicly establishing the alliance.”

“Exactly.” He paused at the door. “And Elara?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t die tomorrow. It would be inconvenient for both of us.”

“I’ll do my best to avoid inconveniencing you.”

He left.

Elara stood alone in her study, holding the signed marriage contract.

She was engaged.

To a man forty-four years older than her.

Who she’d known for less than a week.

And it was one of the most strategically sound decisions she’d ever made.

The fox knight returned from filing the contract. “Your Highness… you’re really marrying Duke Romian.”

“Yes.”

“He’s… very old.”

“Age is irrelevant to function. He provides military protection, political legitimacy, and administrative resources. Those benefits outweigh any social awkwardness about the age gap.”

“But Your Highness—” The fox knight struggled with words. “Marriage is supposed to be about… more than just strategic benefit.”

“For most people, yes. But I don’t experience the emotional components that make marriage meaningful in traditional sense. For me, it’s an alliance with legal documentation.” She looked at him. “Does that bother you?”

“I… I don’t know, Your Highness. It’s just very different from what I expected.”

“Most efficient solutions are different from expectations.” Elara returned to her desk. “Now, security preparations for tomorrow’s dinner. I want updated threat assessment and positioning plans for all attending beast knights.”

“Your Highness, palace regulations only allow four beast knights inside the dining hall—”

“Then the other six position strategically outside. Covering exits, monitoring approaches, ready to respond if the inside team signals emergency.” She pulled out paper and started sketching the dining hall layout from memory. “Duke Romian’s presence will deter most threats, but we plan for the exceptions.”

The fox knight moved closer, looking at her sketches. “You’re expecting the assassin to strike anyway.”

“Someone is paying ten thousand gold. That level of investment suggests commitment. They’ll attempt it even with Duke Romian present.” She marked three points on the sketch. “Most likely attack vectors: poison in the food, direct assault during a distraction, or coordinated strike from multiple angles.”

“How do we defend against all three?”

“We don’t eat the food. We maintain constant awareness. And we position our people to intercept coordinated attacks before they develop.” Elara looked up. “The goal isn’t to prevent all possible threats. It’s to survive long enough for Duke Romian’s presence to make the assassin reconsider whether completion is worth the consequences.”

“And if they don’t reconsider?”

“Then we kill them first.” Elara’s voice was flat, matter-of-fact. “Efficiently.”

The fox knight nodded slowly. “Yes, Your Highness. I’ll coordinate with the other knights.”

He left.

Elara continued working on defensive plans, cross-referencing palace layout with probable assassin positioning, calculating response times and threat probabilities.

Tomorrow’s dinner would be the Emperor’s final test.

Survive, and she’d be recognized as a legitimate succession candidate.

Die, and she’d be another failed princess eliminated from the competition.

Simple. Binary. Efficient.

She just needed to make sure the outcome was survival.

Outside her window, the sun was setting over the imperial capital. Tomorrow would be the succession dinner. The culmination of everything she’d built over the past six months.

Elara pulled out one more document—the Shadow Guild’s report about the Emperor’s involvement.

Her own father had paid to test her. Had funded assassination attempts to see if she could survive.

Tomorrow would be his final evaluation.

She wondered, distantly, if passing his test would make him proud. Or if he’d simply mark her as “acceptable” and move on to testing the next daughter.

Probably the latter. The Emperor didn’t seem capable of pride. Just assessment. Evaluation. Elimination of failures.

She understood that. It was efficient.

Cruel, but efficient.

And in the succession battle, efficiency was survival.

Elara filed away her documents, locked her desk, and stood.

Twenty-four hours until the dinner.

Twenty-four hours to prepare.

Time to work.

—

That night, unable to sleep—not from anxiety, just from mental calculations running endlessly—Elara found herself in the palace archives.

She’d come looking for more information about Duke Romian. Know your allies as well as your enemies. Basic strategic principle.

The archives were vast, poorly organized, and staffed by a single elderly clerk who’d fallen asleep at his desk.

Elara moved quietly past him into the restricted section. Her imperial blood gave her access, technically, though most princesses never bothered coming here.

She found Duke Romian’s military records first. Impressive. Forty years of service, multiple campaigns, consistent promotions based on merit rather than politics. No scandals. No controversies. Just steady, competent military leadership.

Then she found his personal file.

Marriage record: Duke Romian Ashford married Lady Catherine Ashford forty-three years ago. Lady Catherine died forty years ago. Cause of death: childbirth complications.

Elara stopped.

Childbirth complications.

That meant there had been a child.

She flipped through more pages. Found the birth record: Female child, born during difficult labor. Mother died during delivery. Child survived initially but…

The next page was missing.

Not misfiled. Actually removed. Clean cut along the binding, suggesting someone had deliberately extracted it.

Elara searched through related documents. Found a brief mention in a palace administrative log from forty years ago: *”Duke Romian’s daughter transferred to imperial care pending investigation.”*

Investigation of what?

She searched more. Found another fragment in a medical log: *”Subject shows unusual magical manifestation. Recommend isolation and observation.”*

Then nothing. No death certificate. No adoption record. No further mentions.

The Duke’s daughter had disappeared from all official records forty years ago.

Elara sat back, processing.

Duke Romian had told her his wife died forty years ago and that he’d never remarried. True. But he’d failed to mention he’d had a daughter. A daughter who’d been taken by the palace for “investigation” and then vanished from all records.

Either she’d died and the death was covered up, or she was still alive somewhere and being hidden.

That’s something to think about later; who knows who will pass away.

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