(Chris's POV)
The council chamber was colder than usual — not because of the air, but because of what hung in it: tension.
The advisors sat stiffly around the long obsidian table, each man careful with his words, as if one wrong syllable could get his head displayed on the palace gate.
Chris Blackwood entered silently, his black coat trailing behind him like a shadow. His eyes were unreadable — calm, yet deadly.
General Soren Vask stood behind him, arms crossed, scanning the room like a wolf among sheep.
Chris took his seat at the head of the table and finally spoke.
"Gentlemen," his voice was smooth but carried the weight of command. "You've all seen what has happened. The Queen stripped me of power… at least, tried to. Now, I want to hear your opinions — all of them."
A heavy silence followed. No one wanted to go first.
Finally, Minister Halden, the oldest of them, cleared his throat nervously.
"Your Majesty," he began, "the Queen's decision was rash, yes. But… she has the people's sympathy. They see her as the merciful hand of the throne. If you strike back too harshly, the empire might—"
Chris raised a single finger. "Might what?"
Halden swallowed. "Might turn."
Chris smirked. "Then let them turn. And watch how far they get before they crawl back."
The room froze.
Next, Advisor Leto spoke — the cunning one, always measuring every word.
"My Emperor, power must be restored strategically. Instead of punishing her, you could forgive her publicly. Make it seem like mercy. That way, she looks impulsive while you appear divine."
Chris leaned back, considering. "So… you suggest I humiliate her through kindness?"
Leto bowed slightly. "Exactly, sire. It's subtler than war. The people will choose the calm ruler over the emotional one."
Chris chuckled softly, then turned to Soren.
"You've been silent, General. Speak."
Soren stepped forward, his boots echoing. "With all due respect, my Emperor… mercy is weakness. She defied you in front of the nation. If she's not punished, others will think they can do the same."
Chris's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. "And what would you have me do?"
Soren didn't flinch. "Remind the empire who sits on the throne. Remind them that the crown bends for no one — not even love."
The room was quiet again. Only the ticking of the grand clock filled the space.
Chris rose from his chair slowly, hands behind his back.
"So Halden wants peace. Leto wants strategy. Soren wants blood."
He paced around the table, stopping behind each of them.
"I hear all of you," he said, his tone low, dangerous. "But here's what I want — order."
He stopped at the head again.
"I'll speak to the people tomorrow morning. And when I do, they won't see a divided empire. They'll see one ruler. One voice. Mine."
He turned to Soren.
"Prepare the stage. Nationwide broadcast. Every citizen must watch."
Soren nodded sharply. "Yes, my Emperor."
Chris then looked at Leto and Halden.
"And as for you two… you'll sit in the front row. I want you to witness what happens when love and power collide — and which one survives."
He left the chamber in silence, his footsteps echoing like the countdown to something far greater.
— To be continued…