Chapter 260: The Regent Empress’s Fury

Dear reader, there are moments when careful plans collapse like ice under spring thaw, when years of manipulation crumble in single afternoon, when power reveals itself as illusion maintained only by fear.

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Vetra Nivarre was absolutely livid.

She paced her chambers with the controlled fury of winter storm barely contained, each step measured but threatening, ice magic radiating from her in waves that frosted the windows and made the air taste of metal and rage.

Her mind raced against time itself, calculating, recalculating, searching desperately for the move that would salvage everything.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to unfold.

The evidence had been planted perfectly. The witnesses coached adequately. The timing calculated to perfection… attack on wedding eve, demon summoning discovered, accusations leveled before Soren could properly defend her.

But Eris had torn it all apart. Systematically. Brutally. With the kind of precision that spoke of someone who’d played these games before and won.

Since when did the Ignivas posses the ability to detect lies?

Isolde stood near the window, unusually quiet, her elegant composure cracked like porcelain after impact. Her brothers flanked her… Daemon with his military bearing barely containing rage, Kael with anxious energy making him pace like caged wolf.

“We need a new plan,” Daemon said, voice clipped and sharp. “Immediately. That council session was disaster. Half the nobles are questioning whether we backed the right side.”

“Some are already sending quiet messages to Elian,” Kael added, fingers tapping restlessly against his sword hilt. “Testing whether switching allegiances might be… prudent.”

Before Vetra could respond, the chamber doors slammed open with force that made everyone flinch.

Viktor Virelya stormed in, not bothering with courtesy or permission, face flushed with fury that made him look almost feverish.

“This isn’t what you promised me!” His voice boomed across the chamber, all pretense of noble civility abandoned.

“You said the evidence was solid. You said the witnesses couldn’t be broken. You said we’d have her arrested by sunset!”

He advanced on Vetra, finger jabbing air like weapon.

“We need to get rid of Eris somehow. Permanently this time… no more games, no more elaborate schemes that fall apart under scrutiny. Kill her if necessary.”

He paused, then added with reckless desperation, “And maybe we need to go after Soren as well. Remove them both. Install new emperor, someone we can actually control… ”

“Stop!”

Vetra rounded on Viktor with speed that made him flinch.

Her eyes flashed with genuine fury now… not at Eris, not at the failed council session, but at Viktor’s stupidity. “Target Soren? Are you insane?”

Her voice dropped to something cold and dangerous, the kind of tone that had made grown men confess to crimes they hadn’t committed just to make it stop.

“You think I haven’t considered it? You think I’ve spent years raising that boy, watching him grow, training him to rule, without understanding exactly what he is?”

She moved closer to Viktor, closing distance with predatory precision. He actually took a step back despite himself, despite being a duke, despite his own considerable power and position.

“Soren is not some mediocre ice mage we can manipulate or eliminate like common nobles.” Her lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I trained him. I watched him develop. I’ve felt what dwells inside him.”

She didn’t say it outright… couldn’t say it, wouldn’t give voice to the thing she’d sensed growing inside her stepson since when something had shifted, had woken, had begun to pulse with power that made even her instincts scream danger.

But the implication hung heavy in the air between them.

There was something in Soren that even she feared. Something powerful beyond normal magic. Something that felt almost demonic or divine depending on how light caught it. Something she’d kept her distance from for very good reason.

“If he were a regular ice mage… competent but controllable… he would be my puppet,”

Vetra continued, voice tight with barely restrained frustration.

“I would rule through him completely, openly, without fear. Make every decision, sign every decree, control every aspect of the empire while he smiled and nodded and played figurehead.”

She turned away from Viktor, pacing to the window where frost had formed in patterns that looked almost like warnings.

“But he’s not just anyone. He’s not even like that paranoid bastard who murdered all my children. So I’ve ruled from a distance. Maintained power through influence and networks and careful manipulation. Never pushing too hard. Never crossing certain lines. Never threatening him directly.”

She looked back at Viktor with something like contempt. “That’s why I’m still alive and still Regent. That’s why I still have any power at all. Because I know my limits with him.”

The room fell silent. Even Daemon looked unsettled by that revelation.

Viktor swallowed hard, some of his rage cooling into caution. “Then what do we do? We can’t just… ”

“Bianca,” Viktor said suddenly, remembering. “She witnessed the Star-Shard ritual before the demon attack. Saw them together. She’s devastated, already packing to leave the palace.”

Vetra’s expression softened slightly… not with sympathy, but with calculation. “Tell Bianca to calm herself. She’ll still get what she wants… Soren… because she’s my chosen match for the Emperor.” Her voice hardened. “I’m not giving up on that plan. Eris may have won today’s battle, but she hasn’t won the war.”

She turned away from them, dismissive gesture clear.

“All of you… Viktor, Isolde, Daemon, Kael… leave. I need to think without the crowd breathing down my neck.”

They hesitated, exchanged glances, but ultimately obeyed. Viktor left still muttering threats under his breath. Isolde departed with unusual quietness, her brothers circling her protectively. The door closed with soft click, leaving Vetra alone in her chambers.

Or so it seemed.

“You can come out now,” Vetra said to the shadows.

Aira emerged like smoke given form, her ruined face catching candlelight in ways that made her scars seem alive. She’d been there the entire time, hidden in darkness, listening to everything.

“Eris already knows I’m here,” Aira said without preamble, voice flat. “She felt my presence in the shadows during that council meeting. I felt her catching on.”

She moved toward where her travel pack rested against the wall.

“Since your plan didn’t work, I must be on my way back to Solmire now. Our arrangement is concluded.”

“Not quite,” Vetra said smoothly. “You’re free to go. Isolde will provide your remaining payment on the way out.”

She paused.

“But… you must leave behind the spell book.”

Aira froze mid-reach for her pack.

Then turned slowly, expression dangerous.

“No.”

The word came out flat, absolute, brooking no negotiation.

“I have reasons why I can’t do that,” Aira continued, voice hardening with each syllable. “First… I searched far and wide to find that book after learning about its existence. Years of hunting, tracking rumors, following breadcrumbs through forbidden libraries and black markets.”

She took step toward Vetra.

“Second… the book contains forbidden spells. Dark magic that must be kept hidden from people like…” She didn’t finish, but implication was clear as ice. People like you.

“And… I’ve risked my life to keep this book safe. Will continue doing so.” Her scarred lips twisted into something that might have been smile.

“The only reason I agreed to meet you was revenge… to take down Eris Igniva for what she did to me in that market. Since our attempt failed, there’s no need to leave the book behind.”

Without waiting for response, Aira picked up the ancient tome and turned toward the door.

She realized her feet wouldn’t move.

Looking down, she saw ice… black ice, darker than night itself… had frozen her boots to the floor. Crept up her ankles like living thing, holding her immobile.

“You seem to be mistaken.”

Vetra’s voice came from behind, cold as winter’s deepest night.

Aira heard footsteps approaching, deliberate and unhurried. Felt Vetra’s presence like arctic wind at her back.

“I’m not asking you to leave it,” Vetra continued, voice carrying steel beneath silk. “I’m ordering you.”

Aira turned her head as much as the ice would allow, meeting Vetra’s steely gaze. The tension in the room became palpable, air thick with unspoken threats and barely restrained violence.

“You misunderstand the situation, Aira,” Vetra said, voice calm but laced with authority that commanded empires.

“This book isn’t just tool. It’s weapon. And like you said, in wrong hands, it could spell disaster for us all.”

Aira’s eyes narrowed, defiance evident despite fear creeping up her spine like frost. “And what makes you think your hands are the right ones?”

Vetra smiled… cold, calculated expression that held no warmth, no humanity.

“Because I know what needs to be done to protect our realm. You may have your reasons, personal vendettas and old grudges. But the stakes are higher than revenge.”

Aira wouldn’t back down.

She muttered spell under her breath, fire igniting around her feet in attempt to melt the ice freezing her in place. Flames licked at black ice, orange and red against darkness.

The ice didn’t melt.

Didn’t even soften.

Her eyes widened. She muttered different spell, concentrating more mana, pouring more power into the flames. Slowly… agonizingly slowly… the ice began to yield. She felt it loosening, felt her feet beginning to free themselves.

Vetra chuckled.

Low, amused sound that made Aira’s blood run cold.

“You must have mistaken my accommodation for weakness.”

Before Aira could mutter more powerful spell, before she could channel enough magic to truly fight back, she heard sound.

Wet. Sharp. Final.

She looked down.

Large thick black ice spike had impaled her through the abdomen, erupting from floor with force that lifted her slightly off ground. She gasped, eyes widening with shock and pain as cold spread through her body with unnatural speed.

The frozen blood inside her turned to ice. Then to spikes. Tearing outward from inside her body like blooming flower made of blades.

“You should have known better than to challenge me, witch,” Vetra said, voice devoid of sympathy or regret. “Your foolishness has cost you dearly.”

Aira’s breath came in ragged bursts, her grip on the spell book loosening as strength faded. She looked up at Vetra, mixture of defiance and resignation in eyes that were already glazing over.

The book fell.

Vetra caught it before it hit ground, holding ancient tome almost reverently.

Aira’s last breath escaped in cloud of frost.

Then silence.

Vetra stared down at the body impaled on ice spike of her own creation, expression unreadable.

She called on Isolde who was waiting despite her brother’s attempt to get to leave and come back and ordered the lady to dispose of the body.

Then Vetra turned away, walking to her desk with the spell book held carefully in both hands.

“Weakness,” she murmured to empty room, “is not something I can afford. Not now. Not ever.”

She set the book down and began planning her next move.

Because Eris Igniva may have won today.

But wars weren’t won in single battles.

And Vetra had been playing this game far longer than some reborn villainess who thought she could change her story.

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