Chapter 46
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Rina stood apart from the crowd’s typical dread of the Emperor. Her emotions ran deeper than simple respect for his station, rooted in sharper, more defined concerns.
Edwin felt his pulse stutter with unease. Dread coiled inside him.
She managed to dodge Everette’s unsettled gaze. In her mind, the exchange had only aimed to deliver a subtle alert.
Fears plagued her that complications could strike before she entered the Blue Hawks and reached key secrets. Her comments stayed light enough for harmless talk if calm prevailed, but carried weight as foresight if chaos erupted.
Fresh air filled her lungs during the stroll, stirring a forgotten detail from her exhausted haze. She could no longer stay silent.
The aide had stumbled before, already shaken, then sipped liquor from the Duke of Camelot’s inner circle and botched things worse.
Alcohol became his go-to flight?
Her pointed question drew a rote reply. His fast pivot to her next probe almost eased her doubts entirely.
Had he rehearsed those interview lines?
She tilted her gaze heavenward, avoiding Everette altogether.
People leaned on others for tough fixes, yet blunders that wrecked big plans happened to all.
Escaping into drink during a crisis she couldn’t manage left a 33.3 percent shot at forced ouster.
Everette brushed it aside with ease, nothing like the worry nagging at her core. Her nudge sharpened into something too direct, leaving her second-guessing her own words.
He chuckled it away regardless. Without him there, she’d have thumped her chest in rage. The blockage lingered like parched roots in her throat.
Foresight carried its own curses.
Homebound thoughts drifted to a cold brew.
No—stock up and sip indoors to dodge loose talk.
Lately the Emperor snaps at everything. Imagine if he drew the line at any slip.
The line tumbled free. Everette’s eyes gleamed with dark humor, but her throat stayed clogged.
Bringing up his chain of command prompted his careful probe.
Do you hold the Emperor in contempt?
Her recent words replayed in her head.
His face twisted as if she’d spat royal treason.
Such a small thing—had her tone turned it heavy?
The blade clash and the aide’s downfall had marked the Emperor as someone to watch closely.
Everette chafed more at her silence on his cues, twisting her vibe into near-insolence.
Blame fell on her one-way closeness.
On paper, she shared zero link with the Emperor.
Nothing justified reading offense into her stance.
She forced a smooth, crowd-pleasing smile.
Easing the air, she tossed back lightly.
Hardly hatred, but who warms to their overlord?
Workfolk griped about chiefs all the time—safe territory.
She misread the room.
Shadows deepened across his features.
What about him rubs you wrong?
Pain shadowed his stare, gold depths gleaming soft and lost.
Bystanders would peg her as the villain.
I never went that far.
He spelled danger, sure, but she felt no true grudge.
Just smart caution, best kept remote.
That question blindsided her.
His hurt floored her completely.
It sparked a rush of plot beats from the tale’s core—Emperor’s moves through the coming half-year.
Anyone clued in on those would struggle to feel fondness.
Crowned, he slashed a quarter of noble lines. Before the lead lady stepped in, another quarter faced the axe.
Everette sat at 33.3 percent risk in that next wave.
Lately, that truth chilled her toward him.
Her quiet inventory of gripes only sank him lower.
He wore the wound of her missing praise like a fresh scar.
Knights fused their liege’s worth to their souls.
She mulled a kinder path forward.
Thick quiet draped them, heavy as storm-soaked haze.
Summer roses flanked their path, but her chat attempts fell flat.
Sadness clung to his pulled-up grins.
His replies rang hollow, spirit adrift.
She dropped the effort.
Next round called for praise poems or boss-worship guides.
Petals blurred past unseen.
She matched his slumped pace to the trail’s close.
Tension choked the finish.
The gate loomed; she exhaled like a shift’s end.
Sun dips low. I’ll see you safe.
Those wet-gold eyes trailed her doorstep.
She pictured solo steps, but he forged ahead.
Mute brooding held him through the trek, gaze still soft.
The palace stretched miles from her place.
Home pulled her with strange comfort after their clash.
Door swung wide; she pledged silence on the Emperor’s name around Everette forever.
Edwin dragged himself minus palace zeal straight to Kyle’s spot post-drop-off.
Sharp bell notes pulled Kyle from the till. He flashed perfect welcome at the new face.
His brews edged toward decent now, drawing steadier crowds.
His host grin shone without flaw.
Then Edwin appeared. It shattered.
Edwin slunk past without a look.
Kyle breathed deep at his burdened ally, gloom hovering thick.
Hold the fort short.
Emily took over; he closed on Edwin.
Back room?
Spells wasted effort amid rising chatter.
Edwin trailed, craving an ear.
Into the guild lounge they went—slate walls, spare chairs.
Click of the latch. Edwin slumped deep into cushions.
Kyle cut in.
Some realm-wide crisis hit?
Edwin eyed the fabric like old ghosts.
Doubtful bet.
I’d stake this shop it’s Diaz at the heart. Light jab to jolt him.
It backfired hard.
Silence broke; Edwin spilled woes in a flood.
Zero setup—he jumped to the loop in his brain.
Rina thinks I’m unbearable.
Defeat etched every line of his face.
