Chapter 35: Chapter 36: The vote

Elara’s pov

The next morning came too quickly.

I woke up feeling sick again, that now-familiar nausea rolling through me before I even opened my eyes. I forced myself up anyway, pushing through the dizziness as I rang for Lena.

“Your Majesty. Elara?” She appeared at my door, concern already written on her face. She always knew. “Are you–”

“Yes yes Lena I am okay,” I cut her off, perhaps more sharply than I intended. “I need to dress. Full royal regalia. The formal robes. My crown.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose slightly. “The heavy ceremonial robes? Your Majesty, those are only worn for–”

“State occasions. I know.” I met her eyes in the mirror. “Today is a state occasion. I’m calling an emergency council meeting.”

Understanding dawned on her face. “Kaelen.”

“Kaelen,” I confirmed. “Help me dress, Lena. I need to look every inch a queen today. I cannot afford to show any weakness.”

She worked quickly, lacing me into the heavy blue and silver robes that marked my position. The fabric was rich, embroidered with the symbols of Dravara, mountains and rivers and the crown that now sat on my head. The weight of it all, the robes, the crown, the responsibility, pressed down on my shoulders.

“You look like you could command armies,” Lena said quietly as she fastened the last clasp.

“I hope I look like I could command a council of stubborn old men,” I replied.

The nausea was still there, churning beneath everything, but I forced it down. I had called this meeting with minimal notice, giving the council members no time to coordinate their responses, no time to build their arguments together. They would be scrambling, off-balance.

That was exactly what I needed.

“Your Majesty,” Lena said as I turned to leave. “Be careful. Lord Malakor will not take this lightly.”

“I know.” I straightened my crown. “But I’m done being careful. I’m done letting them control me.”

The walk to the council chamber felt longer than usual. Servants stopped and stared as I passed, probably unused to seeing me in full ceremonial dress outside of official events. Let them stare. Let word spread through the palace that something important was happening.

I reached the chamber doors and paused. Through the wood, I could hear voices, the council members were already assembled, their conversations low and urgent. They knew something was coming.

I took a deep breath, fighting down another wave of nausea, and pushed open the doors.

The conversations stopped immediately.

I walked to the head of the table, taking in their faces as I moved. Surprise on some. Confusion on others. Lord Malakor sat in his usual position, his expression carefully neutral, but I caught the calculation in his eyes. He was already trying to figure out what I was planning.

I took my seat and did not waste time on pleasantries.

“Gentlemen,” I said, my voice clear and firm. “I have called this meeting to address a matter that requires immediate resolution. As you are aware, Kaelen, my personal guard, has been imprisoned. He served his punishment publicly. He has demonstrated loyalty beyond question.” I paused, meeting each set of eyes around the table. “I am ordering his release and reinstatement to his position, effective immediately.”

The silence that followed was sharp and heavy, like a blade hanging in the air.

Then Malakor leaned forward, his hands folded on the table in front of him. “Your Majesty,” he said, and his tone was respectful but firm. “With respect, this is… precipitous. The guard violated protocol. He endangered your life.”

“He saved my life,” I countered, keeping my voice level but letting steel creep into it. “He did what was right. I would have had my way if he hadn’t even decided to go with me. And he has gotten punished so I believe he has more than earned his reinstatement.”

Another council member spoke up, a thin man with gray hair who had always aligned himself with Malakor. “But the optics, Your Majesty. What about the optics? King Thorin arrives in two days. What message does it send if your personal guard is someone who so recently failed in his duties? It suggests poor judgment on your part.”

I felt anger flare in my chest, but I kept it out of my voice. “It suggests,” I said carefully, “that I reward loyalty and recognize true service. That I am capable of making nuanced decisions rather than reacting out of fear or political convenience. I would think King Thorin would respect that quality in a potential ally.”

“There are other guards,” Malakor said smoothly, as if he were being helpful. “Equally qualified men. Without the… complicated history. Why not appoint someone new? Someone whose loyalty is unquestioned?”

“Kaelen’s loyalty is unquestioned,” I stated flatly. “By me. And that is what matters. I am not interested in appointing someone else just to make the council comfortable. I am interested in having the person I trust most in a position to protect me.”

“Your Majesty–” Malakor began, but I cut him off.

“This is not a request, Lord Malakor.” I let my words fall like stones. “This is not a discussion where I am seeking your permission. I am informing the council of my decision. Kaelen will be released today and reinstated to his position.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. I could feel it, the shift in the air, the realization spreading among the council members that I was drawing a line. This was the first real assertion of my authority over their preferences, and they knew it.

Around the table, members exchanged glances. Some looked uncomfortable, shifting in their seats. Others looked calculating, already trying to figure out which side would benefit them more.

Malakor’s expression hardened, the careful neutrality slipping for just a moment. “Your Majesty,” he said, and now there was an edge to his tone. “The council has concerns about your judgment in this matter. We have a responsibility to advise you when we believe you are making a mistake that could endanger your position.”

“And I have a responsibility to rule,” I responded immediately. “Advice is welcome. Obstruction is not. I have heard your concerns. I am proceeding with my decision regardless.”

“Then you do so against the counsel of those who have guided Dravara for decades,” Malakor said, and there was warning in his tone now. Real warning. “Those who understand the political realities you are still learning to navigate.”

I met his gaze directly, refusing to look away. “I am learning quickly, Lord Malakor. Including the reality that guidance can become control if I allow it. I value your experience. I do not value attempts to limit my authority.”

The room held its breath. I could see it on every face, the understanding that this was the confrontation that had been building since my coronation. The question that had hung over every council meeting: Would I be a queen who rules, or a figurehead who is managed?

The other Lord tried to mediate, his voice anxious. “Perhaps a compromise, Your Majesty? Kaelen could be released but assigned to other duties? Not as your personal guard, but in a capacity where his skills are still utilized? That way–”

“No,” I said simply, cutting him off. “He returns to my service as my personal guard, or this council is overstepping its authority in a way I will not tolerate.”

Several council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats. A few, I noticed another Lord among them, nodded slightly, I realized then that the council was not monolithic. Some members were ready to support me if I showed strength. Others would always align with Malakor. And there was a middle group, watching carefully, who would follow whoever demonstrated more power.

This was my test. This moment, right now.

“I call for a vote,” I announced, and I saw surprise flash across several faces. “Those in favor of Kaelen’s reinstatement, raise your hands.”

It was a risk, calling for a vote gave the council a voice in what I had framed as my sole decision. But it also forced them to publicly choose sides, and public positions were harder to reverse than private objections.

For a long moment, no hands moved. Then one Lord raised his hand, steady and sure. Two others followed. Then another. I watched the count rise, my heart pounding beneath the heavy robes.

Eight hands. Then the raising stopped.

I counted quickly. Eight to six. A slim majority, but a majority nonetheless.

Malakor’s hand remained firmly on the table, not raised.

“The council has spoken,” I said, and I heard the slight tremor in my own voice. I cleared my throat and continued more firmly. “Kaelen will be released this evening. Lord Malakor, please ensure the holding cells are notified.”

“As Your Majesty commands,” Malakor said, and the words carried no warmth at all. They were cold, formal, the bare minimum of respect.

The meeting continued with other business, trade agreements that needed approval, tax levies that required discussion, reports from various provinces. I forced myself to pay attention, to participate, to act as if nothing momentous had just occurred. But inside, I could feel the adrenaline starting to crash, leaving me shaky and exhausted.

Finally, mercifully, we reached the end of the agenda.

“Unless there is other urgent business,” I said, “this council is dismissed.”

The members rose, bowing before filing out. Malakor was the last to leave, and he paused at the door, looking back at me.

“Your Majesty,” he said quietly, so only I could hear. “I hope you understand what you have done today.”

“I do,” I replied, meeting his eyes. “I have reminded this council who rules Dravara.”

He smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Indeed. Let us hope you do not come to regret it.”

Then he was gone, and I was alone in the council chamber.

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