The day after the Breadbasket convoy arrived, the atmosphere in the Imperial Palace hadn't just thickened; it had become charged, like the air before a lightning strike. The Senate was still reeling in impotent fury, but the Imperial Family was ready to deliver the final verdict on whether their project was successful or not.
Riven and Vaelorian were summoned to the Emperor's private sitting room. The room was grand yet intimate, dominated by the stern presence of the Emperor, who looked thoroughly displeased by the mess, even if he understood the necessity. The Empress, however, regarded them with a knowing, slightly amused glint in her eyes.
The Emperor did not mince words. He got straight to the point, his voice deep and measured.
"Lord Riven," he began. "The Senate is currently demanding an inquiry into the 'unauthorized diversion of Western assets' and the 'coercion of noble Houses.' Senator Aldrin claims you used terror and humiliation to acquire resources. Is this true?"
Riven stood firm, meeting the Emperor's gaze without flinching. "With respect, Your Majesty, I used leverage, not terror. Senator Aldrin is simply unhappy that I was able to secure an aid project of this scale for the common folks without debating a single copper coin in his chambers." Riven paused, letting the truth sink in. "I simply leveraged the loyalty promised to the Crown Prince's future consort and turned that abstract concept into concrete action. No Imperial law was broken; only bureaucratic ego was injured."
The Empress let a small, subtle lift of her lips signal her approval. "Riven's actionnin this project does speak louder than the Senate's constant complaints without providing results. And feeding the Empire is always considered an act of great public service in this family."
The Emperor sighed tiredly, the disapproval replaced by a grudging, reluctant respect.
"You demonstrated a sharp political mind, Riven. You understood that the Senate fears effective action more than anything. You successfully tied the major regional Houses—Ashbourne, Durnhall, and even the vain Moriah—to a single project benefiting the common people, making them accountable to the Crown's promises, not their own agendas."
He then turned his attention to his son. "Vaelorian, I heard you ran the perfect decoy, ensuring the Senate believed you were incompetent and distracted. That guaranteed Riven had the clear field he needed to execute the plan. You both demonstrated a profound understanding of how to govern outside of the established rules. I am... impressed."
He picked up a small crystal decanter, the gesture signaling the end of the inquiry. "The Crown will publicly and officially praise 'Custodian Lord Torvin' for his initiative and formally thank the Western Houses for their 'swift and generous support for the future Consort's vision' in feeding the common folks. The Senate can't argue about jurisdiction while you're simply feeding people. They should have done it themselves if they didn't want you meddling."
The Emperor's gaze sharpened. "But this does not in any way suggest that I support you two causing trouble with the Senate, understood? Do not mistake efficiency for impunity."
"Understood!"
"Crystal!"
Vaelorian and Riven responded simultaneously.
The Empress stepped forward and placed a warm, reassuring hand on Riven's arm. "Well done, Riven. You have continued to prove to us that you'll do what's right for this family and the Empire through competence and courage. I know I can't tell you two to stay out of trouble, but please, be careful."
The Emperor's public and official praise didn't just end the Senate's direct challenge; it triggered a fundamental, irreversible change in how Riven and Vaelorian were viewed by the political ecosystem. The power structure had been successfully rebalanced.
Riven was no longer merely the handsome Knight marrying the Prince; he was now the man who could turn vague royal projects into hard, undeniable results. The senators realized Vaelorian now had an unpredictable, highly effective weapon on his side—a partner unburdened by years of bureaucratic conditioning.
Riven is a wild card, and traditionalists like Senator Aldrin: They viewed Riven as a dangerous threat to their established bureaucracy, a saboteur who proved their rules were unnecessary. They couldn't attack his success directly, as that would offend the Crown, so they immediately focused on procedure, quietly working to draft new legislation to limit the "private use of noble assets for public works." They sought to build a cage around his method.
The Young Reformers: They saw Riven as an unexpected hero. They began quietly seeking meetings with him, hoping to align themselves with the couple's proven ability to circumvent political gridlock. Riven's private study suddenly started receiving formal requests for 'cooperation,' signals of a new, ambitious faction forming around the Consort-to-be.
Vaelorian's reputation also underwent a radical transformation. The Senate had initially dismissed him as an incompetent and impetuous young man, especially after the public embarrassment of his broken engagement with Princess Lyra and his unorthodox decision to marry a common Knight.
But after the Breadbasket project, they understood: His apparent lack of engagement in royal politics and his public obsession with irrelevant topics were not incompetence; they were clever, protective shields. He had intentionally played the fool to keep the Senate distracted and paralyzed, ensuring his future Consort had the cover needed to act.
Vaelorian was not just supportive; he was a brilliant, deceptive strategic partner who willingly sacrificed his own reputation to ensure their mission's success. He was far more dangerous than they had ever imagined.