Chapter 108: Chapter-108

“Expected. The ten thousand gold bounty would attract multiple attempts.”

“You’re remarkably calm.”

“Panic would impair decision-making. Calm is more efficient.”

Duke Romian shook his head slightly. “I’m beginning to understand why people find you unsettling.”

“Do you find me unsettling?”

“No. I find you refreshing. But I’m not most people.”

They reached the entrance. Two imperial guards stood at attention, announcing arrivals.

“His Grace, Duke Romian Ashford,” one guard called out in a carrying voice. “And Her Highness, Fourth Princess Elara Blackwood.”

The doors opened.

The dining hall was massive—easily large enough to hold three hundred people. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting brilliant light across white marble floors. Long tables were arranged in a U-shape, with the Emperor’s throne-like chair at the center of the head table.

The room was already half-full. Nobles in elaborate finery, ministers in formal robes, servants moving quietly between tables. And scattered throughout—Elara’s sisters.

First Princess Eleana sat near the Emperor’s position, wearing ice-blue silk that probably cost more than a small estate. Her hair was arranged in an elaborate updo decorated with sapphires. She looked like a queen already.

When she saw Elara enter with Duke Romian, her expression went cold.

Third Princess Mingzhu sat further down, dark green robes making her almost blend into the shadows. She watched Elara’s entrance with unreadable eyes.

Sixth Princess was there, whispering urgently to Seventh Princess. Both looked shocked when they saw Duke Romian and Elara together.

Other nobles throughout the room turned to stare. The whispers started immediately.

“—she actually came with Duke Romian—”

“—so the engagement is real—”

“—look at what she’s wearing—”

“—scandal—”

Duke Romian’s hand tightened slightly on Elara’s arm—reassurance or warning, she wasn’t sure which. They walked together toward their assigned seats.

As they moved through the room, Elara’s eyes catalogued everything. Positions of her sisters. Locations of exits. Servants who moved too precisely—possible assassins. Nobles whose hands stayed near concealed weapons.

At least five probable threats. Possibly more.

They reached their seats—positioned midway down one of the side tables. Strategic placement. Close enough to the Emperor to show status, but not so close as to be obvious targets for the head table’s attention.

Duke Romian pulled out Elara’s chair. She sat, and he took the seat beside her.

“Two threats at ten o’clock,” he murmured quietly. “One at three o’clock. Fourth one near the servant’s entrance.”

“Confirmed. I also spotted potential poison delivery vector at the wine service station.” Elara adjusted her position slightly, ensuring the signal crystal in her pocket was easily accessible. “Fox knight?”

The fox knight stood two paces behind her chair. “Present, Your Highness.”

“Remain alert. If I signal, immediate extraction. No hesitation.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

More nobles filed in. The room grew crowded. Elara watched each new arrival, assessing, calculating threat levels.

Then the imperial guards announced: “His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Zhao Blackwood.”

Everyone stood immediately.

The Emperor entered, wearing black and gold ceremonial robes that seemed to absorb light. His presence filled the room—that oppressive weight Elara had felt before, multiplied by the formal setting.

He walked to his throne-chair without looking at anyone and sat.

“Be seated,” he said.

Everyone sat.

The Emperor’s eyes swept the room, pausing briefly on Elara and Duke Romian sitting together. His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his gaze. Recognition. Assessment.

He knew about the engagement. Of course he did. He knew everything.

“Welcome,” the Emperor said, his voice carrying across the hall without effort. “You are gathered here for the first formal succession dinner. An opportunity for my daughters to demonstrate their capabilities, their alliances, and their worthiness to potentially inherit the empire.”

Silence. Everyone waited.

“Seven princesses remain in active competition,” the Emperor continued. “Each has shown varying degrees of competence. Tonight, we observe how you conduct yourselves under pressure. How you navigate complex political situations. How you survive when everyone around you might be an enemy.”

The words hung in the air like a blade.

He was announcing the test openly. Telling everyone that tonight was about survival.

“Let the dinner begin,” the Emperor said.

Servants moved immediately, bringing trays of food and wine. The nobles began eating, though the atmosphere was tense. This wasn’t a celebration. It was a battlefield dressed as a banquet.

Elara didn’t touch her food.

Duke Romian noticed. “Not hungry?”

“Not taking unnecessary risks. The food is the most obvious poison delivery method.”

“Smart.” He also left his plate untouched. “Though refusing to eat at a formal dinner will be noticed.”

“Let them notice. Dying would be noticed more.”

First Princess Eleana stood suddenly, wine glass in hand. The room quieted.

“Father,” she said, her voice clear and confident. “If I may propose a toast.”

The Emperor gestured permission.

Eleana’s eyes swept the room, pausing deliberately on Elara. “To family. To loyalty. To the strength that comes from knowing one’s place and serving the empire faithfully.” She raised her glass. “May those who forget their station be reminded swiftly and thoroughly.”

The threat wasn’t even subtle.

Several nobles raised their glasses and drank. Others hesitated, clearly unsure whether the toast was appropriate.

Duke Romian stood, his chair scraping loudly in the suddenly quiet hall.

“If I may offer a response,” he said.

The Emperor’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Proceed.”

“To adaptability,” Duke Romian said, his voice carrying military authority. “To those who recognize when circumstances change and act accordingly. To alliances built on mutual benefit rather than static tradition.” He looked directly at Eleana. “May those who cling too tightly to outdated assumptions find themselves outmaneuvered by those more willing to evolve.”

He raised his glass toward Elara. “To my fiancée. Princess Elara Blackwood. Who has proven more capable in six months than many prove in a lifetime.”

Gasps throughout the room. Eleana’s face went white with rage. Third Princess Mingzhu’s serene expression cracked into something sharp and calculating.

Duke Romian had just publicly declared the engagement and explicitly supported Elara against First Princess Eleana.

That was a declaration of war.

Elara stood as well, taking her own wine glass. “To honest dealings and clear terms,” she said. “To allies who keep their promises and enemies who at least have the courtesy to be direct in their opposition.”

She didn’t drink. Just set the glass back down.

Several nobles looked confused. A few smiled—appreciating the boldness. Most looked terrified of being caught between competing factions.

The Emperor watched all of this without expression. Then he spoke.

“How refreshing. Direct conflict instead of the usual political dancing.” His voice was dry, almost amused. “Fourth Daughter. Come here.”

Elara’s heart rate increased slightly—closest thing to fear she could feel. But her expression stayed calm as she walked toward the head table.

She knelt at the appropriate distance. “Your Majesty.”

“Stand.”

She stood.

The Emperor studied her for a long moment. “You’ve changed significantly since leaving the capital. Reports indicate you’ve built independent commercial operations, destroyed multiple nobles who opposed you, and now secured alliance with one of my most trusted military commanders.” His eyes were cold. “Impressive initiative. Or concerning ambition. I haven’t decided which.”

“I did what was necessary to survive, Your Majesty.”

“Yes. Survival.” The Emperor leaned forward slightly. “Tell me, Fourth Daughter. Do you believe you deserve to compete in the succession battle? To be considered alongside your sisters who have remained here, serving the empire directly?”

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