The walk to the Royal Courtroom feels heavier than usual, the echo of their footsteps against the marble floors swallowed by the imposing silence of the palace at night. Mikhail walks with a measured, confident stride, but his attention is focused on the woman beside him. He glances sideways at Miyako, noting the subtle tension in her jaw and the way her fingers unconsciously brush against the hilt of her blade. "Love, are you well?" he asks, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate register meant only for her.
Miyako starts slightly, pulled from her dark thoughts, and looks up at him. "Yes, My Lord," she replies, though her eyes betray a deep, simmering anxiety. "I'm just worried about Queen Yuehua and Eldrath."
Mikhail stops for a brief moment, turning to face her fully. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Of course, it's natural to worry. But don't worry. Whatever happens, I'll do everything in my power to help Eldrath. You are my wife now, and your home is under my protection."
She searches his face, finding a resolve that settles her nerves. A small, genuine smile breaks through her stoicism. "Thank you, My Lord. I made the right decision to give my trust to you."
With that silent vow exchanged, the large double doors are pushed open by the guards, and they enter the heart of the Empire's power. The atmosphere inside the courtroom is suffocatingly dense, saturated with an invisible, crushing pressure. The Emperor sits upon his raised throne, his expression unreadable, but he's not alone. The hall is filled not just with the usual ministers but with the Elders of the Great Empire. Mikhail's eyes narrow as he scans the withered, scarred faces of the men and women seated in the highest tiers. These are the "Old Monsters," the living legends and past pillars of the Empire who've retired from active duty but retain terrifying power. He swallows a lump in his throat. I'm sure that if we let loose just one of these old bastards, the Orc invasion will end within an hour. He attempts to use his mind-reading skill on the nearest Elder, a man with a long white beard and eyes like flint, but is met with a painful, static silence. And I'm not surprised I can't even think of reading their thoughts. They are monsters in human skin.
Mikhail ascends the dais and takes his respective seat near the Emperor, radiating an air of bored superiority. Miyako takes her place standing stoically by his right side, her hand resting on her sword. Vice Commander Hilowat, clad in full ceremonial armor, walks up and positions himself on Mikhail's left, offering a sharp bow. "Crown Prince."
Mikhail leans slightly toward his loyal commander, keeping his voice low. "Hilowat. I don't understand this urgent meeting. And seeing those old bastards pulled out of retirement... are we going to war?"
Hilowat remains perfectly still, his eyes fixed forward. "Something like that, Your Majesty. You'll know soon enough."
The murmurs in the room die down instantly as the Emperor raises a hand. "Thank you everyone for gathering here at this hour," his baritone voice booms. "We have an urgent matter to discuss. One of our Allied Kingdoms, Eldrath of the Great Orthodox Faction, has sent a distress signal. They are beginning to see preparations for an inevitable invasion of Orcs. And their number is an astonishing amount." He lets the weight of the news settle before asking, "Queen Yuehua asks for our assistance. So what shall we do?"
At the mention of the invasion, Miyako's composure wavers for a split second. She instinctively reaches out and holds Mikhail's hand; he immediately squeezes it back, a silent anchor in the political storm.
The Emperor continues, his gaze sweeping the room. "As an old ally of our Empire, I am in personal agreement to send help. Let's start with Mikhail. What do you think?"
Mikhail doesn't hesitate. He leans back in his chair, speaking with a casual arrogance that masks his strategic intent. "It's a fool's question, Father. We are sending help to them. What's the use of claiming to be the most powerful in the Orthodox Factions if there are no Orthodox Factions remaining to lead? If Eldrath falls, the balance of power shifts, and we look weak."
Suddenly, a raspy, grating voice cuts through the hall. "You're the one who is foolish, Mikhail."
One of the Elders, a man with a face like dried leather and a reputation for ruthlessness, stands up. His eyes burn with malice. "Don't you remember what that Yuehua wench tried to do to your marriage? She tried to humiliate the Empire with such cheap tricks, offering damaged goods and plotting with commoners. I say we let them suffer. Let the Orcs burn their capital to the ground as a lesson to anyone who disrespects us."
The court goes deadly silent. Mikhail slowly turns his head toward the Elder, his expression darkening into pure, unadulterated contempt. "Who's asking you, old bastard?"
The shock in the room is palpable. Mikhail continues, his voice dripping with venom. "Your time has passed. You sit there rotting in your chair while the world moves on. So do cease living. You've lingered long enough."
The Elder's face turns a violent shade of purple. Roaring with rage, he shoots up from his seat, his aura flaring violently. "You insolent brat!" He takes a step forward, ready to strike the Prince.
In a blur of motion, Hilowat steps directly in front of Mikhail, his hand on his sword hilt, ready to draw against a legend. Simultaneously, three other Elders jump between them, hands raised to de-escalate the volatile situation before blood is spilled in the throne room. For a long, agonizing moment, the court is tense, the air vibrating with suppressed killing intent. Yet through it all, Mikhail doesn't even flinch. He sits perfectly still, staring the Elder down with cold, dead eyes.
Eventually, the enraged Elder spits on the floor, turns, and storms out of the courtroom, muttering curses to himself.
The silence that follows is broken by the Emperor's booming laughter. "Hahaha! Fearless even against the ancestors." He wipes a tear from his eye. "So it's decided then? We are sending our help to Eldrath." The Emperor's expression then turns serious, his eyes locking onto his son. "But Mikhail, I have a condition for you, son."
Mikhail raises an eyebrow. "Name it."
"You can take whoever and as many as you wish from the Royal Army," the Emperor decrees. "But you have to go with them. You must command the front lines and fight side by side with Eldrath. Will you agree?"
Mikhail suppresses a grin. This plays perfectly into his plan to secure the treasures of the south. "Yes. I agree to your condition, Emperor."
He stands up, his voice ringing out with authority. "I want 700 Imperium Knights. I want Vice Commander Hilowat. I want Maria. And, of course, Miyako with me."
The Emperor looks momentarily surprised. "Maria too? The Head Maid?" He strokes his beard thoughtfully. "That is an interesting request... she is valuable here, but if you require her skills... Yes, I agree. Take them." He turns to the Vice Commander. "Hilowat, ready your 700 knights and be ready to move out at sunrise. That's all. The Royal Meeting is over."