Chapter 274: THE DEEPENING RIFT

After the protest dispersed, after Eris had disarmed a mob with nothing but honesty and composure, Soren followed her to the corridor outside the council chambers. She was already moving with purpose, that particular stride that said she had plans and wouldn’t be deterred.

“Eris.” He caught up to her easily, his longer legs making up the distance. “We should discuss today. The meetings you’ve arranged… I want to coordinate our approach, ensure we’re presenting a unified… ”

“I’ll handle it.” She didn’t stop walking, barely spared him a glance. Polite but firm, the tone one used for well-meaning subordinates whose input wasn’t required.

“You have reconstruction oversight and the grain dispute to resolve. I’ll manage the citizen representatives.”

“I could postpone… ”

“That’s unnecessary.” Still walking. Still not quite looking at him. “I’m perfectly capable of conducting meetings without supervision, Your Majesty.”

Your Majesty. Not Soren. Not even his name with that particular inflection she used when annoyed or amused or anything that suggested familiarity.

“I wasn’t suggesting supervision. I was offering support… ”

“I appreciate that.” She turned a corner, guards following at respectful distance. “But I have this handled. If you’ll excuse me, I have several things to arrange before this afternoon.”

She was gone before he could formulate response, disappearing into her temporary office where she’d been systematically dismantling Vetra’s support network one terrified noble at a time.

Soren stood alone in the large corridor, feeling the distance she was creating like physical thing… a chasm widening with every polite dismissal, every formal address, every moment she chose to handle things independently rather than together.

Maybe she regrets it, the thought crept in unbidden, poisonous. Maybe she’s realized marrying the Ice Emperor was mistake. Maybe she’s building distance now to make the eventual separation easier.

His mind spiraled with the efficiency of someone practiced at catastrophic thinking. She’d been distant since the garden.

Since he’d been absent and distracted and failed to give her the attention she deserved.

Since he’d proven himself unreliable when she needed… what? Comfort? Partnership? Just his presence fully engaged instead of half-absent?

And now she was pulling away. Professionally. Politely. The way one retreated from poor political alliance before it became binding.

Two more days until the wedding, he thought with something approaching despair. Two more days to either fix this or watch her walk away from commitment she’d only accepted because I’d asked. Because I’d promised her something better than what she’d left behind.

His mental state, already precarious from forest anomalies and missing maids and political conspiracies, deteriorated further under weight of Eris’s withdrawal.

√✓√✓√✓√✓√✓

Aldric entered Soren’s office that morning bearing the usual burden… documents requiring imperial attention, decisions awaiting signature, the endless machinery of empire grinding forward regardless of personal crisis.

“Your Majesty.” He arranged papers on the desk with practiced efficiency. “Priority items marked with blue ribbon. The grain shipment dispute requires immediate… ”

“Fine. Leave them.”

Aldric noted with internal alarm that Soren was staring at absolutely nothing. Just blank parchment and unfocused eyes that suggested his mind occupied different realm entirely.

Excellent, Aldric thought with resignation born of long service. We’re having one of those days. Again.

Hours crawled past. Work progressed with all the efficiency of molasses in winter.

Aldric returned to discover Soren had signed the grain dispute resolution backwards… awarding Duke Konstantin’s claim to Marquess Theron and vice versa, creating bureaucratic nightmare that would require three additional documents and two separate meetings to untangle.

This is fine, Aldric thought, already calculating the extra work. I definitely don’t want to retire to quiet monastery somewhere far from emotionally compromised monarchs.

“Your Majesty, there’s been a small error… ”

“I’ll fix it later.”

“The later it’s fixed, the more complex… ”

“Aldric. Later.”

An hour later, Soren had approved a petition Aldric had specifically flagged as thinly veiled embezzlement scheme.

I’m going to die here, Aldric thought with grim certainty while explaining… again… why approving obviously fraudulent requests created problems. Death by bureaucratic nightmare caused by lovesick emperor. What a legacy.

By the third intervention, Aldric had reinforcements.

Bjorn padded into the office, the massive white wolf looking distinctly offended. The creature had been trying all morning to engage his master… bringing toys, nudging hands, even the dramatic flop-and-whine maneuver that usually guaranteed attention.

Nothing. Soren was completely absent.

Even Bjorn notices, Aldric observed. We’ve reached new depths.

Bjorn’s thoughts, if wolves had thoughts translatable to human language, ran something like: Master sad. Master ignore Bjorn. This unacceptable. Bjorn demand pets immediately.

“Your Majesty.” Aldric’s patience had worn to threads. “I need you to actually focus. Not this… ” he gestured at Soren’s glazed expression, “… whatever this is.”

Bjorn barked. Once. Sharp. The canine equivalent of “Yes, listen to sensible human.”

Soren sighed with theatrical despair and let his face drop forward onto the desk with dull thunk.

He didn’t move. Just lay there like particularly depressed paperweight while Aldric and Bjorn stared with matching expressions of judgment.

I serve the most powerful man in the empire, Aldric thought. The Ice Emperor. Master of winter. Commander of armies. And here he is, face-down on his desk, defeated by girl troubles. Hmph! Pathetic!

Soren’s thoughts, muffled against expensive wood: Losing my mind. The crack in reality. The demons. Vetra’s schemes. But mostly Eris. Gods, mostly Eris. Can’t focus. Can’t think.

Everything kept playing on loop in his mind… her walking away, her cold politeness, her calling their time together “pointless chat.” Everything’s falling apart and he couldn’t…

“She won’t even look at me,” Soren finally mumbled without lifting his face.

Aldric knew exactly who “she” was. Deliberately refused to engage with this nonsense. Began organizing the disaster of documents Soren had created through distraction.

Soren continued anyway, apparently content to have conversation with desk. “She must hate me now. She offered to spend time and I treated it like political briefing instead of…” Vague hand gesture while face remained planted. “Instead of what it actually was.”

“Took her long enough,” Aldric muttered, sorting papers with unnecessary force.

Soren’s head lifted slightly, glaring. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It means you’ve been insufferable since she arrived and I’m amazed she tolerated you this long, Aldric thought but didn’t say. “Nothing, Your Majesty. Please, continue wallowing. Very productive.”

The glare intensified for three seconds before Soren’s resolve crumbled. Face returned to desk. Another dramatic thunk.

Bjorn whined, genuinely worried now. He shoved his massive head under Soren’s arm attempting comfort.

Master very sad, Bjorn’s wolf-thoughts concluded with simple canine wisdom. Need more pets. Pets fix everything. Why master not understand this?

“What do I do?” Soren asked, voice muffled but desperate. “Aldric. Seriously. What do I do?”

This is my life now, Aldric thought, staring at the Emperor of Nevareth reduced to brooding adolescent. Decades of loyal service. This is what it’s brought me to.

He set down papers with deliberate care. “Would you like my honest assessment?”

“Yes. Please. Anything.”

“You acted cold toward Lady Eris without realizing it.” Clinical precision, like diagnosing illness.

“Despite her pretense of disliking your attention… and she does pretend, rather badly… she actually enjoys it. These past days, you haven’t been your usual extra annoying self.”

Soren’s head lifted slightly. “Extra annoying?”

“Yes. The constant teasing, inappropriate comments, deliberate invasion of personal space. You’ve been distant instead. Professional. She’s interpreted it as rejection.” Pause. “Though this is just a theory, of course.”

Based on watching you both act like ridiculous children for weeks, Aldric added internally. But sure, just a theory.

Soren sat up, running hands through disheveled hair. “I know that much. I thought maybe giving her space was better. Maybe I’d been too much… ”

“Then what are you waiting for Your Majesty?” Aldric cut in. “You know the problem. You know the solution. Go apologize. Be your usual insufferable self. Make her blush inappropriately. Whatever it is you do.”

Quiet moment. Then, softly: “Maybe part of me believes it’s better if she treats me like this.”

Aldric stopped organizing entirely, turning to stare.

Oh, Aldric thought, genuine sympathy cutting through exasperation. You absolute idiot.

“You’re a masochist,” he said aloud.

Before Soren could respond, a guard knocked and entered. “Your Majesty. Letter from Lady Eris.”

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