Capítulo 11: A Throne For A Puppet (Part 2)

In the blistering heat of the empire's unrest, tension coiled around the city like a serpent ready to strike. Dust hung heavy in the air, mingling with the clamor of disbelief as an Imperial Decree shattered the sanctity of long-held secrets. The emperor's right hand had announced that Argider Valtirium—known scoundrel, father of many bastards, and occasional flight risk—had not only been slain but miraculously reborn… as a woman.

The decree, allegedly divine in origin, claimed this transformation marked Argider as the vessel of the gods' will and the rightful ruler of the empire. Naturally, the populace was skeptical. After all, there were stories.

Rumors had spread faster than a court gossip with a secret. It was public knowledge that Argider once fled his own wedding bed, leaving his wives baffled while he sought comfort in the arms of a particularly persuasive prostitute. The scandal had been entirely true, of course, and the memory lingered like a bad smell in a sacred hall.

"Perhaps the gods are not always right…" a nobleman muttered under his breath, echoing the unease of the gathered crowds.

"What if it's a trick? Divine punishment for his crimes?"

"I'd argue it's both a blessing and a mockery," another chimed in. "All those bastards, and now he'll have none!"

The proclamation wasn't merely a declaration of Argider's "miracle" but a tactical move. It sought to cement her claim to the throne while sending a not-so-subtle warning to the shadowy factions scheming in the empire's underbelly.

Meanwhile, the imperial Sceptre Council chamber—a place as ostentatious as its name—erupted in chaos. A fist slammed onto the long, polished table with the force of a falling guillotine.

"Argider? A woman? Preposterous!" thundered Duke Gander Morrigan, the Emerald Liege. His pale green eyes blazed with fury beneath a mane of silver hair. As the second most powerful figure in the empire, Morrigan's temper carried weight, and the other nobles wisely sat up straighter. "He couldn't even give my daughter a child! His first wife! The empress! And now you expect me to believe this?"

"Your Grace," Count Laristor Erisius, the Alexandrite Liege, interjected with his usual measured calm. Adjusting his spectacles with a precise touch, he added, "Let us not allow emotions to cloud our judgment. The matter at hand is of critical importance."The council was comprised of the most illustrious figures from the noble Eminent Households, distinguished by their titles based on jewels from the First Emperor's Sceptre. Each held a pivotal position within the imperial hierarchy.

Gander Morrigan, the Emerald Liege, whose dominion extended over the vast economic landscapes of the empire;

Malister Merovia, the Golden Liege, the treasurer secretary and financial advisor;

Laristor Erisius, the Alexandrite Liege, the enigmatic master of covert operations;

Saktor Tarkresh, the Amber Liege, the fearless military commander of the Imperial Family;

Telys Donotia, the Lady Azurite Liege, the eloquent speaker of the Imperial Parliament and the lone woman within the council;

Brovian Cryptoron, the Sapphire Liege, chief Justice and guardian of the empire's laws;

And finally, Osmo Arctera, the Pearl Liege, the esteemed scholar and foremost advisor to the throne.

Each one wielded immense power, and each one had opinions—many of them unhelpful.

"Does this mean her spouses should now be men?" Saktor Tarkresh quipped, his military gruffness softened by a hint of amusement.

"That would require undoing every marital alliance we've ever brokered!" Malister Merovia pointed out, his voice weighted with exasperation. "Do you have any idea how much paperwork that would entail?"

"A contract must never be broken," Brovian Cryptoron intoned, as if reading directly from the laws he upheld.

"Let's be practical," Osmo Arctera interjected with the weary patience of a man accustomed to herding cats. "Argider won't be producing heirs with men. The damage to our reputation would be catastrophic if she bore a child under such circumstances. No, we must focus on her as she is and manage this… adjustment."

Telys Donotia, ever the voice of balance, leaned forward. "In time, we may even hope she reverts to her former self. Until then, this change might provide an unexpected benefit: fewer bastards."

Morrigan's scowl deepened. The chamber fell silent as his thoughts churned. The mention of his daughter—the empress, once married to Argider—cut deep, stirring bitter memories of her youthful smile and the years lost to heartbreak. At last, he rose and strode out, his silence more thunderous than his earlier fury.

...

Meanwhile, in a hidden chamber of the palace, Argider was decidedly less philosophical about her predicament. Confined to her quarters, she paced with the nervous energy of a caged animal. Every creak of the floorboards, every shift of the shadows, seemed like a harbinger of betrayal.

Then came the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps.

"Darling!" a familiar voice sang out.

Her blood ran cold. No… Not now…

Beep!

Beep!

Beep!

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Ding!

— [Affection ▪︎ 50]

— [Loyalty▪︎ 0]

— [Emotion▪︎ 100]

Before she could react, the door swung open, and there stood Callista—Argider's fourth wife and, inconveniently, her favorite. Callista, with her cascading locks and a smirk that could unnerve a saint. The courtesan-turned-consort Argider had hopelessly fallen for.

"Callista! I—I'm ill!" Argider yelped, diving under the blankets as if they were an impenetrable fortress.

"Oh, my love," Callista crooned, stepping closer with feline grace. "I've come to nurse you back to health, as always."

The bed dipped under her weight. Argider froze.

"No, wait!" she stammered, voice trembling with alarm.

Callista slipped under the covers, her hands roaming with practiced ease. "Darling, you feel… different," she murmured, her fingers tracing unfamiliar terrain.

"Callista, stop!" Argider squeaked, trying desperately to wiggle away.

But it was too late. Callista yanked the blankets aside, revealing the pale, feminine figure beneath. For a moment, there was only silence as her gaze traveled from Argider's diamond-like eyes to her delicate frame.

Finally, Callista whispered, "Who… who are you? And what are you doing in his bed?"