Daniel

So Daniel couldn’t exactly say that his first Gala was a success.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so coy next time.” Ethan offered the amusement evident in his voice.

Daniel rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

After the drama of the actual gala, the Empress’s stewards actually ushered Daniel off under the guise of contract preparation. (Which to him seemed redundant—wasn't that what the Empress was doing? Whatever.)

But despite himself, it made him think of Judge Judy and it made him smile. That was about twelve hours ago. Not that he was treated badly. They gave him some great food and a pretty attendant came and gave him a great back massage.

Massage with mana? Yes, please. Pretty awesome, actually. Not so much now.

Daniel entered The Hall of Concord, which was not designed to comfort. It was meant to remind—in every line of stone, every echo, every inch of polished mana-threaded tile—that the Empire could erase entire houses without raising its voice.

Daniel found himself near the rear tier, flanked by two silent attendants in Imperial Gold. The chamber was a vast, half-dome sort of indoor amphitheater and was brighter than it should have been. Every sound, even his own breath, felt sharper inside these walls.

He didn’t fidget.

But his heartbeat was steady only because he’d willed it to be.

“This is where they hold bloodline sanctions,” Ethan murmured in his head. “And treaty remapping sessions. No one enters this room unless something is about to change.”

Daniel didn’t reply.

He was watching the doors across the chamber. And sure enough, they opened with grim finality.

Dathan Leren entered with the kind of practiced entitlement Daniel had come to expect from nobles—but this time, it didn’t land the same. The ornate cuffs on his robes looked a bit too loud under the governance lights. His posture, just a degree too sharp. He looked like someone trying to remember the choreography of power.

And he wasn’t alone. Head Steward Alen Varris of House Leren followed behind him. Daniel didn’t know the man personally, but according to Ethan, the name carried weight at the Empire level, sort of like General Li.

Speaking of his father-in-law, he too strode quite relaxed, though he did not look pleased.

“This entire process is absurd. I was provoked. You all saw it.” Dathan’s voice cut through the chamber, too loud. “I’ve done nothing wrong. If anything, I’ve shown admirable restraint.”

He gestured broadly, but no one responded. Not even the attendants recording the statement on crystalline slates.

Daniel blinked. “Admirable restraint?”

“Yes!” Dathan continued, waving a hand. “Everyone knows the Princess is only being kept from marriage because of court politics. Jealous rivals. Delicate alliances. I have three concubines already, all loyal, all happy.”

He turned, casting his gaze toward the aides like he was expecting applause.

“This delay? It’s not about her reluctance. It’s envy. Other houses want to keep her ‘unclaimed.’ They’re terrified she’ll rise higher once she’s mine.”

Daniel stared at him like he had spontaneously grown antlers.

Even the aides—professional, expressionless—couldn’t quite maintain their composure. One of them coughed discreetly into a sleeve. Another raised a brow.

General Li didn’t say anything at first. The man simply raised an eyebrow; his silence hit harder than a slap.

Dathan, emboldened by his own voice, forged ahead.

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“You're not listening. This was necessary for the future of the Empire and it must happen for that Dog's insult. ”

Ethan snickered. "He just called you a dog."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Talk about bad villian dialogue."

Outwardly Daniel looked upset. He stared at him for a moment—long enough for the silence to land. Suddenly some stuff became clear.

"You’re not just an ass. You’re a strategizing ass. This had nothing to do with me. You just thought I was an easy target. You picked this fight hoping it would force her hand.

He shook his head once, slowly.

What a dumbass, she's a princess you dipshit.

Dathan looked really proud of himself. “The solution is simple. When I win the duel, I want the wedding scheduled immediately. Full ceremony. Full rites. No more games.”

Head Steward Varris of House Leren shifted beside him—his lips pressing into a line of professionally restrained disgust.

“The Princess,” he said carefully, “is not property, Lord Dathan. Nor is she wager in a duel.”

“And yet,” Dathan countered, “you let that nobody threaten to unmake my engagement.”

Daniel stepped forward, voice calm. “I didn’t challenge your engagement. I challenged your behavior for the putz that you are.”

“What’s a putz?”

“Oh, it’s like a dumbass.”

“Nice. But I like dumbass better.”

“Touche'.”

Dathan watched him briefly like he didn’t know if he should be insulted. He apparently decided he should be.

“You’re a no one, Ethan Zhou,” Dathan snapped back. “What makes you think you ca—”

General Li Zhenhua finally stepped into full view. The room went cold. It was like Dathan forgot that the General was there.

He turned his face towards the General. “General, I apologize.”

Daniel’s father-in-law silenced him. “You insulted my daughter’s husband. You insulted the Princess. You insulted your own House and mine.”

Dathan opened his mouth.

Li Zhenhua raised a single hand. “And you did it under the eyes of the Empire. You will be silent for the rest of this meeting, or I might take personal offense and ask your immediate family to give me an explanation.”

Translation. Hold your tongue or people might die.

That shut him up.

Dathan gave his best impression of a dead fish when another set of doors at the far end of the hall opened. A quiet murmur spread through the assembled officials.

Daniel’s breath caught. His gaze snapped to the entrance, an involuntary lurch in his chest. No… it couldn’t be.

He felt a cold prickle along his arms, a sudden, impossible rush of memory. Sophie. The rain. The bus stop. The shimmer in the air…

Then, she stepped through.

Princess Sophie Virelyn entered, and she was unveiled.

Her golden-blonde hair cascaded around shoulders now free of the formal veil, catching the chamber’s bright light. Her features, so long obscured by glamor and silk, were laid bare: round cheekbones, a delicate jaw, and lips now pressed in a line of grim determination. Her eyes, those startlingly familiar bright golden fire, cut through the formalities, settling first on Dathan, then sweeping across the room, and finally, impossibly, locking onto Daniel.

Daniel's voice caught as his eyes bulged a bit. The Princess of the Imperial Court looked like her—the Sophie. The one from Earth. The one he’d left behind. Had he died? Had she? Was this even real? He wasn’t sure anymore.

One thing was for sure, the Princess was a striking woman. At second glance, she looked like his Sophie but like a step—more? Better? Version 3.0. Regardless, the rumors were not only true, they were understated. She was definitely on par with Vivian Li.

Sophie wore a simpler, unadorned gown to this meeting, but her posture was still impeccable. She was flanked not by guards, but by two royal scribes with activated recording crystals. Her presence was quiet, but absolute.

And for some reason, she kept giving him sideways looks. What is that all about?

Then, Princess Sophie stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension with surprising clarity.

“If Ethan Zhou loses,” she continued, her voice softer but no less firm, “your marriage to this Princess will be expedited. The Empire will recognize our union with full ceremonial honors, and no further questions will be raised regarding your relationship to your other concubines.”

A gasp rippled through the room. This was a direct, public statement from the Princess herself; this couldn't be changed or taken back.

Sophie then turned her head slightly towards Daniel. Her expression was veiled, but her golden eyes seemed to hold a flicker of defiant intent. She looked at Daniel but spoke to Dathan.

“If Ethan Zhou wins,” Sophie stated, her gaze fixed on Dathan, “the wedding will be formally broken. You, Lord Dathan, will publicly apologize to House Li and to me, Princess Sophie Virelyn, for your conduct. You will then remove yourself from the capital and any Imperial functions for no less than three years, and speak no further of this engagement.”

Daniel’s mind reeled. She's raising the stakes for me, but also for herself.

The revised duel terms were submitted soon after, now explicitly incorporating Sophie's decree:

* If Ethan wins: Dathan must issue a public apology to House Li and Princess Sophie Virelyn, formally void the engagement, and remain publicly silent regarding the Princess for no less than three years, while removing himself from Imperial functions in the capital for the same period. The Leran Family will also fullfill three request from Ethan Zhou, which they will fulfill no matter the cost.

* If Dathan wins: Ethan Zhou will be exiled to the Fifth Ring for one year, and House Li will pay monetary reparations. Furthermore, his marriage to Princess Sophie Virelyn will be immediately expedited and publicly honored.

Daniel didn’t flinch.

He looked at the aides. Then at General Li. Then, his gaze found Sophie's, her unveiled face unreadable, her eyes gleaming.