Capítulo 42: Chapter 42: The Crown’s Weight
The grand halls of Carlan's royal palace, once filled with the busy chatter of courtiers and the brisk steps of servants, now stood in an eerie silence. The walls bore scars from the recent demon attack, a chilling reminder of the kingdom's fragile state. Peace had returned, but it was a tenuous, uneasy peace, like the calm before another storm. For even with the demon threat quelled, a new conflict brewed within the kingdom—a revolt that threatened to tear it apart.
Weeks had passed since the demon assault on the capital, and the kingdom's wounds had barely begun to heal. Yet, before the people could catch their breath, the noble houses, thwarted in their attempts to wrest the crown from Queen Adery through diplomacy, turned to force. They had long simmered in resentment, waiting for the right moment to challenge Adery's rule, and now, they rallied against her with renewed fervor. Their cry was as old as the kingdom itself—tradition. A woman on the throne was, in their eyes, a dangerous aberration, an affront to the ancient line of male rulers.
Inside the cold, empty meeting room, Queen Adery Carlan sat at the head of the long table, massaging her temples with slender fingers. The crown felt heavier than usual today, as if it was pressing down on her very soul. The past few weeks had been a relentless grind, wearing her down in ways that even the fiercest battles had not. She had faced demons on the battlefield without flinching, but this—the treachery of those who should be her allies—was a different kind of war, one that threatened to break her spirit.
Standing nearby, Froi Crownbane watched her in silence, his sharp eyes missing nothing. As her newly appointed adviser, he had quickly come to understand the immense pressure Adery was under. It was a role previously held by Julian, who had relinquished it without a second thought, passing the burden to Froi with an easy smile. If Froi didn't know better, he might have thought Julian was eager to rid himself of responsibilities, leaving Froi to deal with the political minefield that was the Carlan court. But Julian's care for both Adery and Amira dispelled such notions; his games were simply played on a different board.
Adery finally broke the silence, her voice weary but resolute. "What is the status of the revolting nobles?"
Froi adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, a subtle gesture that betrayed his own unease. "Julian is handling it, Your Majesty. Peacefully, as he put it. If it were anyone else, the streets might already be running red."
Adery allowed herself a dry laugh, though it was devoid of mirth. "Only Julian could make peace sound like a threat."
Froi's lips curled into a faint smile. "Indeed. It's fortunate we have a true hero in our midst. Otherwise, we'd be dealing with a far messier situation."
The queen sighed, leaning back in her chair. "This kingdom… still recovering from a war against demons, and now we're tearing ourselves apart over tradition. Madness."
"Noble politics is often madness, Your Majesty," Froi replied with a note of resignation. "Perhaps a cup of tea would help clear your thoughts. I know of a few blends that could ease your mind. Chamomile, perhaps? Or a touch of lavender?"
Adery raised an eyebrow. "Julian suggested the same thing."
Froi's expression grew more serious. "He has a way with advice, I'll give him that." He hesitated before continuing, his tone thoughtful. "Your Majesty, there may be another way to end this revolt—a way that could unite the kingdom and silence the opposition."
Adery straightened, her interest piqued. "Go on."
Froi took a measured breath. "Throughout history, when a kingdom was divided or a ruler's claim was questioned, one solution has always proven effective—a union with the hero. If you were to marry Julian…"
The suggestion hung in the air like a sword suspended by a thread. Adery's eyes widened briefly before narrowing. She rose from her chair, shaking her head. "Absolutely not. I will not burden Julian with such a demand, not after everything he's done for this kingdom."
Froi's gaze remained steady. "Your Majesty, the crown is a burden, but one that must be carried. The kingdom's stability—"
"Is not worth sacrificing his happiness," Adery interrupted, her tone sharp. "I won't do it, Froi. Not when I know how much he cares for Amira."
A soft, almost hesitant voice emerged from the shadows, startling both the queen and her adviser. "And what if I'm willing to make that sacrifice?"
Adery and Froi turned, eyes widening as Princess Amira stepped forward, her usual gentle smile replaced by a determined expression. She had been listening, hidden as she often was, observing the conversation unfold. Amira, known for her kindness and warmth, now stood with a resolve that neither her sister nor Froi had seen before.
"Amira… you heard everything?" Adery asked, her voice softening with concern.
Amira nodded, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "I did. And I agree with Froi. If marrying Julian is what it takes to secure the kingdom, then I'm willing to do it. For you, for our people, and for the future of Carlan."
Adery's heart sank at her sister's words. Amira's willingness to set aside her own happiness was both admirable and heartbreaking. She had always been selfless, but this… this was too much.
Froi, ever the pragmatist, saw the opportunity in Amira's resolve. "With the kingdom united behind such a marriage, the nobles would have no choice but to fall in line. It would solidify your rule, Your Majesty, and ensure peace."
Adery clenched her fists, her thoughts racing. She had always known that the crown would require sacrifices, but this? Could she truly allow her sister to bear such a burden? The weight of her decision pressed down on her, heavier than the crown itself.
"I can't ask that of you, Amira," Adery said, her voice trembling with emotion.
"You're not asking," Amira replied gently, though her tone was firm. "I'm offering."
The silence that followed was deafening. Adery looked into her sister's eyes and saw the determination there—a reflection of the strength they both possessed. Yet, it was a strength born from different sources: Adery's from duty, Amira's from love.
Froi's voice broke the silence, respectful but insistent. "Your Majesty, this is the path forward. A way to end the conflict without bloodshed. But the decision is yours."
Adery turned away, struggling with the weight of her choice. She had always known that ruling the kingdom would demand sacrifices, but now she faced a sacrifice she had never anticipated. The crown was heavy indeed, and now, it seemed even heavier.
In the end, she was still her father's daughter, raised to put the kingdom above all else—even if it meant sacrificing her own desires, or worse, those of her beloved sister.
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