From the foot of the dais, Commander Tony Tamra stepped forward, his armor still marked by the dust of duty "My daughter is no royal. She's young, untested—"
"She'll go commander Tony"
Commander Tony fists clenched. "With respect, Your Majesty, sending my daughter as proxy is madness. She is no royal, and she is barely trained in court magic."
Alaric's eyes flicked toward the commander. "I agree," he said suddenly. "It would be unwise. My father—" He stopped, jaw tightening. "My father prizes beauty and power. If she arrives in his court unguarded…"
The chamber fell still. The King regarded him carefully. "You believe King Lucian would break the treaty for a girl?"
Alaric lowered his gaze. "I believe he would test its limits, Your Majesty. My Father is not bounded by anyone's —even the ones that govern's Blueshire"
The King sighed and rose from his seat, his voice rising to fill the hall. "Enough. I have ruled this kingdom for twenty years. I know the weight of decision. Ronita Tamra shall go. This alliance must stand by all means."
"She's loyal and she was raised with Princess Eleanor so she's the perfect candidate," Queen Tianaa cut in, weary but firm. "And not to forget she is trusted by the Princess and this entire Kingdom. The court of Blueshire will not know the difference under veil and ritual."
Tony's voice cracked, disbelief warring with fury. "You would send her to the vampires' den? To that old king?"
" Vampire's don't age like humans Commander. I'm sure the King looks no younger than his soon " The King's argument stirred amusement in the court alongside whispers
" It seems you're taking this lightly my King but I still don't consent to my daughter being sent in place of Princess Eleanor "
Before the King could answer, Prince Alaric spoke, his tone controlled but edged with tension. "Commander Tamra is right to protest. If you send her to Blueshire bear in mind that you're sending her to be wed by the King. That'll mean two maidens from this court by the King's side"
Every eye turned to him. Even the Vampire Prince opposed—surely it might not be the best decision to make afterall
"The journey to Blueshire is not merely ceremonial," Alaric said. "And my father is… unpredictable. He might see her as a beautiful gift rather than an envoy."
King Eldritch's face darkened. "You speak of your father as though he were a beast, not a ruler."
Alaric's jaw clenched. "I speak as his son, and as one who has seen what power does to him."
The King's voice hardened. "Peace cannot wait for sentiment. The girl will go."
Tony's fists trembled. "By the old law, Your Majesty, that choice is not yours alone. I'm afraid you don't have the final verdict over this matter"
The King's brows drew together. "What law stops the King from making absolute decision?"
"The Law of Argadun," Tony said. "I stand to remind you my King that when a life of the bloodline is offered in service to the realm, the decision lies not with the throne, but with the White-Haired Wizard—protector of the magical bloodlines of Frizington."
Murmurs of shock rippled through the hall.
King Eldritch exhaled slowly. "Then summon her. Let the wizard of Argadun speak her judgment."
Moments later, the great doors opened, and Laura Tamra of Argadun entered. Her presence stilled the room. Her hair, white as moonlight, flowed down robes that shimmered faintly with sigils of protection. Power rippled around her in soft, invisible waves.
But behind her calm eyes lingered the quiet ache of a mother.
"Your Majesty," she said, her voice low and musical.
The King inclined his head. "Lady Tamra, the Princess lies stricken. We must uphold the treaty with Blueshire. Your daughter, Ronita, has been chosen to represent her. Do you give your consent?"
Laura's gaze flicked briefly to her husband. Tony's stare was sharp, desperate.
"She is not prepared for such a task," Laura said carefully. "She has not completed her cultivation. The magic of Argadun has not yet settled in her veins. We must not send her to Blueshire"
"She need not wield power," Eldritch replied. "Only bear the crown's face in ceremony. Her safety will be guarded and she shall return after the sixth ceremony."
" And what if King Lucian goes beyond the sixth ceremony and beds her at the seventh, sealing her as his wife forever? " Tony protested and the court whispered their agreement
The King's frown deepened "Commander, I warn you to hold your tongue. The decision lies with The White-Haired Wizard. Your Wife"
Tony stepped forward, his voice rough. "Laura, don't let them do this. You have the right to refuse. You're her mother. You're the wizard of Argadun. The throne cannot make a move on this matter without your word."
Laura's fingers tightened on the staff she carried. Her eyes lowered, shadowed by the weight of her decision.
"Laura please..." Tony pleaded. "She's our child. Your only child."
The hall seemed to hold its breath.
At last, Laura spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know what she means to us… but I also know what this alliance means to every family in Frizington. To every child who would die if war returned."
Tony's expression shattered. "You would trade her life for the false hope of peace?"
Laura's voice trembled. "I would trade my own, if it would save her. But this—this is what the gods have placed before us."
The King straightened. "Then you consent?"
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "For Frizington's sake," she said quietly. "I give my word."
The room seemed to exhale in relief, though the sound carried no joy.
Tony stood frozen for a moment, before speaking "may the gods forgive you for what you've done. For the fate you've abandoned your daughter to"
He stormed from the chamber, his footsteps fading down the corridor.
Laura didn't move. Her shoulders sagged, but her face remained composed. "I will tell Ronita myself," she said softly.
The King bowed his head. "Your loyalty honors us, Lady Tamra."
When the hall emptied, Prince Alaric remained, silent as a statue. He looked at Laura — this woman who had just sealed her own daughter's fate with trembling grace.
"You are brave," he said finally.
She met his gaze. "No, my prince. Only bound by duty."
Her footsteps faded, leaving Alaric alone among the dying candles. The chamber felt colder without her, and guilt pressed heavy in his chest.
He turned toward the window, where moonlight spilled like silver sorrow across the floor.
"If duty demands so much pain," he whispered, "then perhaps duty is the cruelest curse of all."