CHAPTER FIVE
Kol 9102 - Fourth Day of the Second turn of Oathmarch
Christina Oscar didn't go to her father like a daughter.
She went like a knife returning to its sheath quiet, controlled, built for one purpose.
High Factor of Coin & Tithe's wing of the palace was warm even in mourning. Candles burned in polished brass holders. Ink and parchment scents overpowered the faint funeral incense that still drifted through the corridors.
Gordon Oscar's office had always felt like a counting room for souls.
He sat behind a wide desk, ledgers stacked like bricks, seals lined neatly at the edge. The man looked like he belonged to paper more than flesh thin smile, sharp eyes, hands that never stopped moving, as if still tallying losses.
When Christina entered, he didn't rise.
"Daughter," Gordon said, voice measured. "I heard you've been walking where you shouldn't."
Christina closed the door behind her.
Then she set a folded parchment on his desk.
"I heard you've been signing what you shouldn't," she replied.
Gordon's fingers stilled.
A moment.
Then he smiled, faint and cold.
"Speak."
Christina didn't sit. She didn't soften her tone.
"Healer transfers," she said. "Six months. Two replacements. Both approved by Trident seals."
Gordon's eyes flicked down to the parchment, then up again.
"And?" he asked, as if asking for a price.
Christina leaned forward slightly.
"And a healer named Mera used to send a boy to the kitchens at night regularly during the Empress's worst decline."
Gordon's smile didn't change, but the skin near his eye tightened.
"That's gossip," he said.
Christina nodded once, like he'd made a sensible point.
"Then it will be easy for you to deny," she said.
Gordon's gaze sharpened. "Why are you bringing this to me?"
Christina's voice stayed calm.
"Because Arthur is already building a cage around this palace," she said. "And when he finishes, he will decide who gets to breathe inside it."
Gordon leaned back slowly. "Arthur is grieving."
Christina's lips curved.
"No," she said. "Arthur is becoming."
The word landed like a hammer.
Gordon's eyes darkened. "Careful."
Christina stepped closer, lowering her voice until it became private truth.
"You used to tell me the Empire survives by balance," she said. "Crown, Trident, Church. You told me to never let one grow too strong."
Gordon's fingers tapped once on the desk.
"And now," Christina continued, "you are watching Arthur grow strong and calling it mourning because it is convenient for you."
Gordon exhaled slowly.
For the first time, he looked like a man not just the High Factor.
"You think you understand politics," he said.
"I understand consequences," Christina replied.
Gordon's gaze hardened. "Then you should understand this: the Empress's illness created panic. Panic makes people reckless. We needed stability."
Christina stared at him. "So, you chose silence."
Gordon's eyes narrowed. "I chose order."
Christina's voice softened not gentle, but sharp with clarity.
"You chose a side," she said. "And now the side you chose is failing."
Gordon's jaw flexed.
He gestured to the parchment. "This… evidence. Where did you get it?"
Christina didn't blink.
"I have eyes," she said. "And I have servants who fear different masters."
Gordon's smile returned slightly.
"Smart," he said.
Christina's expression did not change. "Necessary."
Gordon rose from his seat then, slowly, like a man standing up inside a chess match.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Christina didn't hesitate.
"I want you to put a leash on Arthur," she said.
Gordon's eyes flashed. "You cannot leash him."
Christina's voice turned colder.
"Then put a leash on the people around him," she said. "Because if Arthur finds out someone in the Trident controlled access to the Empress's healers if he believes the trident managed her death he will not stop at justice."
Gordon's face tightened.
Christina stepped closer.
"He will do what Caelum did," she whispered. "He will call it unification. He will call it cleansing. He will call it safety."
Gordon's eyes narrowed sharply at the name.
Caelum "The Unifier"
The man who "saved" the empire by burning it into obedience.
Christina watched her father's reaction and knew she'd hit something real.
Gordon said quietly, "You shouldn't speak that name in the palace."
Christina smiled faintly. "Then don't make me live through his shadow again."
Gordon stared at her for a long time.
Then he did something rare:
He showed his hand.
"You think the Empress was poisoned," Gordon said.
Christina nodded. "I think her illness was allowed."
Gordon looked away for a moment.
"You need to understand," Gordon said. "If Arthur believes the Trident killed his mother, he will burn the Trident down."
Christina's eyes stayed on him. "That's why I came to you first."
Gordon's voice lowered. "And if the Trident burns… the Church will take the ashes."
Christina's breath slowed.
The Lightbringers.
The priests.
Their wealth.
Their armies.
Their ability to claim moral authority when the crown looked corrupt.
Gordon continued. "The Church has been waiting. The War of Four taught them patience. Dimitri Rim..."
He stopped himself before finishing the name, like the memory itself was dangerous.
Christina's gaze sharpened. "Finish it."
Gordon's lips pressed into a thin line.
"Dimitri Rimus," Gordon said. "He tried to break them once. He failed to destroy them, but he taught them something, crowns can bleed."
Christina watched her father carefully.
"You're afraid of them," she said.
Gordon did not deny it.
"I'm afraid of anyone with a cause," he replied. "Causes outlive kings."
Christina nodded slowly.
Then she delivered her real demand.
"I need a name," she said. "A true one. Who signed the healer restrictions? Who controlled the Empress's wing? Don't tell me, 'The Trident.' Tell me the hand."
Gordon stared at her.
Christina held his gaze.
"If you don't give me a hand," she said, "Arthur will choose one. And he will choose wrong first."
Gordon's nostrils flared.
He picked up a smaller ledger one that didn't sit with the others. One kept nearer, like a secret close to the heart.
He opened it.
Christina saw rows of seals and signatures.
And one name repeated where it shouldn't.
Gordon spoke quietly.
"Fino Redwood."
Christina's eyes narrowed.
"The Lord of Medicine?" she whispered.
Gordon nodded once. "He signed the last restriction. Said it was to 'protect the Empress from infection.'"
Christina's stomach tightened.
Fino had looked worried at the funeral.
Worried men were either innocent… or afraid of being caught.
Christina swallowed.
"Why would he do it?" she asked.
Gordon's voice was flat. "He said the Church requested it."
Christina's blood cooled.
The Church again.
Always behind a curtain.
Gordon closed the ledger and looked at her.
"Now you understand," he said. "If Arthur pulls at this thread, he won't just drag the Trident into daylight. He'll drag the Church."
Christina's lips parted slightly.
"And if he drags the Church"
"They will respond," Gordon finished. "And they will call it holy."
Christina stared at her father.
Then she made her decision.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Gordon's eyes narrowed. "What are you going to do?"
Christina's smile returned
"I'm going to do what you refuse to do," she said. "I'm going to shape the outcome."
She turned to leave.
Gordon spoke suddenly, voice sharper than before.
"Christina," he said. "If you're planning to tell Arthur"
Christina paused at the door without turning.
"I'm not planning to tell Arthur," She replied.
Her voice became a whisper, barely audible.
"I'm planning to guide him."
Then she left.
Outside Christina's Next Move
Christina walked down the corridor with steady steps.
Julie trailed behind her, pale.
"Your highness," Julie whispered, "what if the prince..."
Christina cut her off.
"If Arthur hears 'Church,' he burns," Christina said calmly. "If he hears 'Fino,' he strikes. If he hears 'Trident,' he starts a war inside the palace."
Julie swallowed hard.
Christina's eyes remained forward.
"So, I will not give him the full truth," she said.
Julie stared at her, confused.
Christina's lips curved.
"I will give him a direction," she whispered.
"And I will make sure the first person he squeezes… squeals loud enough to scare the ones who actually matter."
Julie trembled.
Christina didn't.
Because trembling was for people without options