The chamber was quiet—too quiet for a royal court.
Only the heavy ticking of the ancient wall clock and the slow, steady breath of the Emperor filled the gilded silence. He sat on his throne, gold and obsidian, flanked by guards and scribes. His children were gathered, though none dared to speak.
Until Rythe did.
"I've come to ask that the charges against Aurean be dropped," he said, voice calm but firm. "He has been tested. Brutally. Extensively. And he has proven that he is no longer a threat."
The Emperor studied him. His pale eyes flickered with amusement… or caution. "You speak of the dungeon."
"I speak of two months of isolation. Starvation. Torture," Rythe replied. "And yet he didn't betray the Empire. He protected my name, my honor—even after everything. He never broke."
"Your name was never in question," the Emperor replied smoothly.
"Then why the chains?" Rythe asked, stepping forward. "Why was he left there to bleed if not for fear that he would rise again?"
A murmur moved through the gathered nobles.
"He tried to kill you once," Prince Kael interjected lazily from the side. "People don't forget attempted regicide, brother."
Rythe turned his gaze on Kael, calm and ice-edged. "And yet, how many traitors have we pardoned and turned into allies? How many foreign princes have dined at this court after drawing blades on us?"
The Emperor lifted a hand. Kael fell silent.
"And what of the court?" the Emperor asked. "They will not easily accept this. The boy is disgraced. Branded. They will see weakness."
Rythe stepped closer to the throne.
"Then let them read the report," he said, pulling a scroll from his coat. He offered it to one of the scribes, who handed it to the Emperor. "Two months of torment. Shackled, bloodied, and silenced. And still, he never once betrayed the Empire. Tell me, Father—how many sons of noble houses can endure that without bending? Without seeking vengeance?"
Silence.
Rythe's voice softened, but held weight.
"Aurean is loyal. Obedient. Capable. He still has value—to me, and to the Empire."
The Emperor leaned back on his throne, eyes narrowing. "And what would you do with him?"
"I will give him his life back," Rythe said. "And then I will send him away."
That sparked whispers.
"To where?" the Emperor asked.
Rythe's jaw tightened. "To Virelia. The Sapphire Kingdom."
That drew sharp attention.
Virelia was a wealthy coastal realm beyond the great desert seas—politically neutral but notoriously aloof. The Empire had courted them for years, hoping for trade and diplomatic access to the Sea of Mourn. Every emissary had been rejected.
"I want to send Aurean as our emissary," Rythe said. "He's sharp, quiet, and no threat to Virelia's throne. If he succeeds, we gain an alliance we've chased for decades. If he fails, they will return him."
The Emperor didn't speak for a long time.
Then, at last, he said, "You would stake our diplomatic future on the omega who once tried to kill you?"
"I would stake it on the man who survived everything we did to him and still bowed at my feet," Rythe replied, voice low. "Because I believe that is the kind of man Virelia will respect."
Another pause. Tension curled like smoke in the air.
Finally, the Emperor said, "Very well."
Gasps echoed in the room.
"He may leave," the Emperor continued. "Under your seal. But if this ends poorly, it will be your burden to bear."
"I accept that," Rythe said, bowing once.
The Emperor waved a hand. "See to it.