Chapter 96: Chapter-96

Elara walked forward and knelt at the appropriate distance from the throne. “Your Majesty. I have returned as summoned.”

“Rise,” the Emperor said.

She stood.

The Emperor studied her for a long moment. His expression was unreadable—it always was. But something in his gaze suggested he was seeing her differently than he had six months ago.

“Princess Elara,” he said. “You’ve been absent from the capital for six months. During that time, reports reached me of your activities in Port Crestfall.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You established commercial operations. Built profitable businesses. Defeated multiple local nobles who opposed you. Created independent revenue streams outside palace control.” He paused. “Impressive for someone who was considered the weakest princess in the succession battle.”

Murmurs rippled through the assembled officials. Several of her sisters’ expressions tightened.

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

“Clearly.” The Emperor leaned forward slightly. “Your operations in Port Crestfall generated significant economic activity. Tax revenues from that region increased seventeen percent during your tenure. The merchants’ guilds reported improved trade conditions. Even the local magistrate noted decreased corruption.”

He gestured to one of his ministers, who stepped forward with a scroll.

“In recognition of your contributions to imperial commerce and regional stability,” the Emperor continued, “I am prepared to offer you a reward. Within reason.”

Silence.

Elara processed this. A reward. Offered publicly, in front of her sisters and the entire court. This was theater—the Emperor demonstrating that even the “weak” Fourth Princess could earn recognition if she proved useful.

But it was also opportunity.

“What would you request, Princess Elara?” the Emperor asked. “Land grants? Additional household budget? Elevation of status?”

The standard rewards. Things her sisters had received for their accomplishments. Safe, predictable, politically balanced.

Elara looked at him without expression. “I request permission to marry Duke Romian Ashford.”

The room went absolutely silent.

Every person froze. Ministers stared. Officials’ mouths fell open. Even the Emperor’s carefully controlled expression showed a crack of genuine surprise.

First Princess Eleana’s face went white, then flushed with shock and anger.

Third Princess Mingzhu’s serene mask slipped for just a fraction of a second—eyes widening before she caught herself.

The Sixth Princess actually gasped audibly.

“Duke… Romian?” one minister whispered, loud enough to be heard in the stunned silence.

Duke Romian Ashford. Military commander. Imperial strategist. One of the Emperor’s oldest friends and most trusted advisors.

And approximately sixty-three years old—the same age as the Emperor himself, possibly even older.

“You wish to marry Duke Romian,” the Emperor said slowly, as if confirming he’d heard correctly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Duke Romian is… considerably older than you.”

“I’m aware of his age, Your Majesty.” Elara kept her voice steady, her face carefully neutral. “But age means little compared to character and accomplishment.”

More murmurs. Shocked whispers spreading through the throne room like fire.

First Princess Eleana stepped forward. “Father, this is absurd—Fourth Sister can’t possibly be serious—”

“I am completely serious,” Elara said, still not looking at her sister. Her eyes stayed on the Emperor. “I have great respect for Duke Romian’s service to the empire. His military achievements, his decades of loyal counsel, his unwavering dedication to imperial stability.”

She paused, letting the words settle.

“When I was younger, before Mother passed, she often spoke of Duke Romian with admiration. She said he was one of the few truly honorable men in the capital—someone who served the empire rather than himself.” Elara’s voice remained flat, but the words themselves carried weight. “I never forgot that. And in my time away from the capital, I came to understand what she meant.”

It was complete fabrication. Her mother had probably mentioned Duke Romian at some point, but Elara had no specific memories of such conversations. But it sounded plausible. Emotional. The kind of thing people expected to hear.

“You respect him,” the Emperor said carefully.

“Deeply, Your Majesty. Few men of his generation maintain such active service. Few possess both military brilliance and political wisdom. And fewer still have remained unmarried out of devotion to a deceased wife.” She met the Emperor’s gaze directly. “Such loyalty is rare. I would be honored to be considered worthy of it.”

The throne room’s whispers changed tone—less shocked, more thoughtful. Several older ministers nodded slightly. This was the language they understood—respect, honor, loyalty.

“Duke Romian is old enough to be your grandfather,” Eleana said, voice tight.

“And I would be fortunate to learn from someone of his experience and wisdom.” Elara kept her expressioncomposed, almost demure. “The succession battle has taught me that strength comes in many forms. Duke Romian embodies a strength I admire—steadiness, strategic thinking, endurance across decades of service.”

She turned slightly toward Eleana for the first time.

“Some might see age as weakness, First Sister. I see it as proof of survival. Duke Romian has outlasted countless rivals, navigated multiple regime changes, and remained trusted by the throne through it all. That’s not weakness. That’s mastery.”

Eleana’s jaw clenched. She had no good response to that.

The Emperor leaned back in his throne, studying Elara with an unreadable expression. “These are pretty words, Fourth Daughter. But Duke Romian has been unmarried for forty years since his wife’s death. He’s shown no interest in remarrying. What makes you believe he would accept such a proposal now?”

“I don’t presume to know his mind, Your Majesty. I can only present my case honestly and hope it has merit.” Elara kept her tone respectful. “If Duke Romian finds no value in the arrangement, I will accept his refusal with grace.”

“And if he refuses, you receive no reward.”

“I understand, Your Majesty. But some opportunities are worth the risk of rejection.”

The Emperor stared at her for a long moment. Then, impossibly, the corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. Almost amusement.

“Very well,” he said. “I grant permission for you to approach Duke Romian with a marriage proposal. If he consents, the arrangement will have my blessing.”

Gasps throughout the throne room.

“However,” the Emperor continued, “understand that this is entirely contingent on Duke Romian’s acceptance. I will not order him to marry you. If he refuses, you receive no reward.”

“Understood, Your Majesty. I would not want him to accept under compulsion. Such a marriage would be worthless.”

“And Elara?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Duke Romian is not a man easily convinced of anything. If you succeed in this negotiation, you’ll have demonstrated considerably more political skill than most of your sisters possess.” His eyes glinted. “I’ll be very interested to see how you approach this.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor waved a hand. “Dismissed. All of you.”

The throne room began to empty. Nobles and officials filed out, whispering frantically to each other. Elara’s sisters departed in clusters—Eleana sweeping out with barely controlled fury, Mingzhu moving silently like smoke, the younger princesses chattering in shock.

Elara walked out last, the fox knight falling into step behind her.

Once they were in the corridor, he spoke quietly. “Your Highness… that was very well done. The way you presented it—respect, honor, your mother’s admiration—it changed the entire tone of the room.”

“Yes. It was efficient.”

“Was any of it true? Did your mother actually speak of Duke Romian that way?”

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