"You should say something before we leave," Starlion advised, his voice low but firm. "Don't let them look down on you. You are Lord Draven's most important guest, after all."
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. The moment I stood, the room fell silent. Dozens of sharp, curious eyes turned to me, some filled with doubt, others with subtle mockery.
"Tsk," one noble scoffed just loud enough for a few to hear. "What's she going to do? Sing us a so—"
He didn't finish.
In a blink, Starlion vanished from my side and appeared beside the noble. A swift flash of silver—and the man's left arm dropped to the floor with a wet thud.
"AAAH! AAAAAH!!" The noble screamed, falling to his knees as blood poured from the fresh wound. He clutched at the stump, eyes wide in shock and pain.
I didn't flinch. Honestly, after everything I'd seen in the past few days, this didn't even make me blink.
Gasps filled the throne room. Some nobles backed away, while others froze in place. No one dared speak.
Starlion wiped his blade clean with a smooth flick, then calmly slid it back into its sheath. His face remained blank—unbothered, almost bored.
"If you weren't a noble, you'd be dead already," he said coldly. "Any disrespect to Lady Majesty is the same as disrespecting Lord Draven. I suggest you all remember that."
Then, just as calmly, he returned to my side and gave me a single nod.
"Apologies for the interruption, Lady Majesty. Please, continue."
The silence that followed was absolute. No one dared speak again.
I hesitated only a second, then found my voice.
"My name is Majesty. I'm from the Kingdom of Runevale," I said, trying to keep my tone steady.
Whispers broke out.
"Wait, Runevale? Isn't that the kingdom ruled by the most beautiful woman alive?"
"That cursed place?" another muttered.
I ignored them and continued.
"I won't ask for you to accept me. And I won't reject the authority given to me by His Majesty, Lord Draven. But I promise you this…" I paused and looked around the room. "I will earn your respect."
A few heads turned. Some watched me with mild interest. Others lowered their gazes. No one challenged me this time.
"She has the power to force us to obey, yet she wants to earn our respect?" a younger noble whispered. "She might not be so bad."
But an older man nearby sneered.
"Don't let her beauty fool you," he muttered. "Everyone from Runevale is either a monster or a lunatic. I've met my fair share of them. Orin—that beast slices his enemies like my wife chops her vegetables. Then there's that other one… what was her name… ah, yes. Irene. That woman enjoyed killing. Smiling while drenched in blood. And don't even get me started on their queen. She's worse. She'll have your head for just breathing wrong."
He paused, eyeing me cautiously.
"I'd bet my right kidney that Lady Majesty has another side too."
"Let's take our leave," Starlion said calmly, gesturing toward the door.
I nodded, keeping my expression unreadable, and followed him out.
"Starlion, can you take me to Lord Draven?" I asked the moment we stepped out of the throne room.
"Of course. Follow me." He nodded and began leading the way down a quieter corridor.
We walked in silence for a moment before he suddenly spoke, his voice lower than before.
"I'm sorry, Lady Majesty."
I blinked, surprised. "Sorry? What are you apologizing for?"
He kept his eyes forward, but his jaw tensed. "The first time we met… I mistook you for a spy. I treated you harshly. If Lord Draven hadn't stopped me... honestly, I would've killed you without any hesitation."
His voice was heavy with guilt.
I looked at him, trying to read his expression-but there was no lie in his voice.
"Don't worry about it, Starlion," I said softly. "Believe it or not, you're not the first person who's tried to kill me."
I meant it too. There was no bitterness in my voice—just a tired kind of truth.
He looked at me then, slowing his steps a little.
"Even so, I want to make it up to you. I owe you that much. Just name one thing—anything—and I'll do it. Take your time."
I smiled faintly. "Fine. If you insist."
He nodded, satisfied, and then pointed ahead.
"We're here."
We stepped into an open space, and the scent of fresh flowers filled the air almost instantly.
"A garden?" I asked, stepping in slowly.
It was beautiful. Neatly arranged rows of roses, white lilies, lavender, marigolds, and a few flowers I didn't even recognize. The breeze danced softly through the leaves, and tiny petals floated gently to the ground like colorful snow.
Everything looked so carefully placed—like someone had spent hours, maybe days, tending to every inch of it.
"Please go in," Starlion said quietly. "Lord Draven spends most of his time in there."
Then, without another word, he turned and left, leaving me alone in the garden… with my thoughts and the faint scent of roses.
I walked deeper into the garden, my steps slow as I looked around in quiet awe.
The air was warm and sweet with the scent of blooming flowers-roses, orchids, tulips—they were everywhere, their petals glowing in soft shades of red, pink, white, and gold.
At the center of the garden stood a shaded pavilion wrapped in pale silk curtains that swayed gently in the breeze. Beneath it was a round table, polished smooth, with a set of high-backed wooden chairs arranged neatly around it.
Lord Draven sat in one of them, his posture calm, elegant.
His long black hair fell freely over his shoulders, the strands smooth like flowing ink. His crimson eyes caught the light just right, shining like rubies in the sun. There was something polished about him—almost too perfect, too composed. A maid stood beside him, pouring tea into a porcelain cup with delicate hands.
As I approached, he glanced up at me, smiling faintly.
"Majesty," he said, gesturing toward the chair opposite him. "Join me."
I sat without a word, though my mind was far from calm.
Why was I here? Why had he done so much for me? Letting me into the kingdom was already more than enough, but the power he'd granted me… it was beyond anything I could've imagined. It wasn't kindness. It couldn't be. Not from a man like Draven.
The stories about him weren't gentle.
"What do you want from me, Lord Draven?"
His expression didn't change. "What do you mean?"
I didn't fall for his act. His tone was too smooth to be honest.
"You saved me. You gave me power that people would kill for. But you've never once asked who I am or how I'm connected to Lady Nyxelene. You haven't even asked a single thing about my past."
I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to.
Without warning, I reached across the table and picked up his cup of tea, just before his fingers touched it. I brought it to my lips and took a sip. I did it out of frustration.
He let out a small chuckle, drawing his hand back.
"You're bold," he said, clearly amused.
"I'm careful," I replied.
He leaned back in his chair, folding one leg over the other with a grace that felt practiced. "I'm not very interested in people's pasts or their relationships. They don't really matter in the end. What matters is what they become."
"And giving me this much power was your way of… what? Testing me?"
"No," he said calmly. "It was curiosity."
I frowned. "Curiosity?"
Draven smiled. "Nyxelene tried to kill you, didn't she?"
The words struck me harder than I expected.
"With the strength you hold now, you could tear her apart if you wanted. You could make her regret ever trying."
I leaned back slightly, my fingers tightening around the cup.
He wasn't wrong.
I did hate Nyxelene. That much was true. But I had never imagined killing her. Not really. Even if she deserved it… the idea felt like a line I wasn't ready to cross.
"I'm not looking for revenge."
He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft, knowing smile.
"No?" he said, tilting his head. "That's a strange answer."
I set the cup back down and met his eyes again.
That smile never left his face. Like he already knew what choice I'd make.