CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 70: TOMORROW SHE WOULD BECOME QUEEN

Sebastian arrived before the sun had shifted past its highest point. The estate courtyard was still bright, servants moving about with stiff shoulders, as if the air itself was uneasy.

He dismounted and handed his reins to a stable boy before striding inside. When he reached the study, he knocked once.

"Come in.." Meical said.

Sebastian entered, bowing slightly.

"Our men already departed for Lucine at dawn. If we leave now, we’ll meet them by nightfall. Are you prepared, Your Grace?"

Meical closed the folder on his desk. He hadn’t read a single line of it. His expression was steady, but his jaw was set too tight.

"Yes. We move now.."

No one needed to mention why they had waited until now to depart. The absence of Kaizar’s presence in the estate said enough.

They stepped into the entrance hall, where Vanadis and Odysseus were waiting. Serin was behind them, arms crossed, gaze lowered.

Vanadis straightened immediately.

"Master. Allow me to accompany you. I can.."

"No.." Meical cut him off before he could finish.

Vanadis stopped, breath stalling in his throat.

"You will remain here.."Meical continued.

"You are to keep the estate running. Keep the guard rotations tight. And if Kaizar returns.." his voice wavered for half a second, but he forced it back in place "..you are to receive him quietly. Don’t press him. No discussions. Just let him rest.."

Vanadis lowered his head slowly. "...Understood."

Meical turned to Odysseus.

"You aren’t coming either Odysseus.."

Odysseus blinked, but he accepted it without protest.

"You are my strategist. If something happens to me or Sebastian, you must be here. Protect this household. Keep affairs in order. Ensure our allies remain loyal. I expect stability when I return.."

Odysseus placed one hand over his chest and bowed. "Yes, master. It will be done.."

Serin exhaled softly, relief and worry twisting together.

Meical didn’t look back again.

Outside, the carriage waited in the sun, horses shifting on the gravel.

Sebastian climbed in first. Meical followed after a while, closing the door behind him.

The driver flicked the reins, and the carriage rolled forward.

The estate grew smaller, its windows bright, its walls warm with daylight. Yet the seat beside Meical was unmistakably empty.

He rested his hands together, pressing down to steady the faint tremor.

He had always known Kaizar could leave when hurt.

He simply never believed he would be the one to push him far enough to do it.

There would be no running from the consequences now.

Lucine awaited.

And Kaizar was somewhere alone on the road.

[FLASHBACK]

The second morning after the ball dawned clear, as though the heavens themselves had no memory of that disgrace.

The castle’s courtyard was arranged for a farewell procession, banners of each visiting nation fluttering in a tranquil breeze, guards positioned in ceremonial formation, sunlight gilding polished marble. It was meant to be a graceful end to the bride selection.

Instead, the air was heavy with what everyone refused to say aloud.

Radomir stood upon the dais, his posture immaculate, his expression composed.

Before him, the nine women who had been summoned from across continents waited for the verdict that should have been delivered days ago.

Yet all of them knew that the king had already made a mockery of this ritual when he choose a married man instead.

His voice held no tremor as he announced the final choice.

"Lady Syris Whitfield of House Whitfield."

A ripple of reaction moved through the courtyard, quiet, sharp and restrained.

Syris stepped forward with a serene grace that gave no outward offense. She lowered into a measured curtsy, precisely as court etiquette dictated.

Her face remained calm, but throughout her composed acceptance, she did not once look at Radomir.

Her acceptance was a silent chain, placed around the king’s neck with her own hands, to ensure he did not run again to the one person she knew he still wanted.

The dismissal of the remaining brides began.

Kalyani stepped forward first. She maintained perfect poise, her expression as serene as water untouched by wind.

"May your reign remain steady, Your Majesty.." she said simply.

Her tone was polite, but the absence of warmth was unmistakable.

Laleh followed, her gaze held thoughtfulness rather than offense, she had seen many forms of political miscalculation before.

She bowed with her hand over her heart.

"May Cressmont find peace. Even hard lessons are still lessons."

Yelena stepped next, her heels clicking silently against the stone with military precision. She removed her gloves and bowed once.

"This was a complete waste of time and act of disrespect to us bride candidates."

Radomir bowed "My apologies.."

The courtyard went still as her entourage departed with the disciplined silence of a regiment.

Amaru approached with a smile on her face, directed at Syris. The silver feathers in her hair shifted like a blade being drawn. She didnt bow rather she stood with full dignity.

"A ruler must be firm. Indecision is more dangerous than any enemy."

There were so many eyes at the ball, and Radomir had chosen to make a mockery of himself.

Eleanor curtsied, offering the polite farewell expected of her, though her hands trembled slightly.

"Thank you for your hospitality. I wish you clarity and peace. Goodluck to you, lady Syris.."

She said as she bowed, her lady in waiting leading her to her carriage.

The smile on her face disappeared the moment she turned around.

She had a lot to convey to her brother.

Finally, all that was left was Adesewa.

She removed the veil on her face and stared at Radomir coldly.

Then she stared at Syris with what looked to be pity.

She sighed before speaking.

"Your Majesty.." she began, her vowels drawn out, rich with elegance.

"In my homeland, marriage is a path walked with clarity of spirit. To call a gathering of queens and princesses from many lands and then reveal confusion of heart..this is not our way.." Her tone was a gentle rebuke, tempered only by truth.

Her gaze shifted briefly toward Syris, and for an instant, their eyes met in a flash of quiet, cutting sympathy. "I wish you strength, Lady Syris. To bind a man who looks elsewhere is a labor that we, in the Olorun Empire, do not envy."

A soft murmur rippled across the assembled courtiers, a collective nod of acknowledgment.

With regal poise, she adjusted her veil and turned away. Her voice carried one final time, smooth as palm wine poured from a golden vessel.

"May the gods grant every heart the courage to choose itself."

The courtyard had quieted, the echoes of carriage wheels and silk hems fading into the afternoon air.

The dismissed brides were already on their way back to their kingdoms, their attendants and banners swallowed by distance.

Only Radomir and Syris remained.

Radomir stood with his hands folded loosely behind his back, the gold of his robe catching the light.

His expression was calm, almost serene, but his voice held the exhaustion of a decision made too late.

He looked at her directly.

"When do you wish for the wedding to take place?"

Syris did not falter with her words. She held herself with the unhurried grace of someone who had already walked the length of her choice and seen where it ended. Her answer came without pause.

"Tomorrow."

A brief silence settled between them. Radomir inclined his head slightly, as though confirming a military report.

"Tomorrow, then."

Syris lowered her gaze, the gesture neither humble nor timid. Simply formal. Under her composed exterior the reality was clear: the sooner the crown rested on her head, the sooner Radomir’s reach would be bound by law. Once the marriage was sealed, he would have no right to drag Kaizar back to his side.

Radomir seemed to understand but chose not to speak of it. His cloak shifted as he turned away, the afternoon wind lifting its hem. He walked with the quiet stride of someone who had convinced himself that this too was inevitable.

Syris watched his back.

Once, she had hoped to stand beside him out of affection. Once, she had believed the future would be built with two hands reaching for the same horizon.

But affection had long since been replaced with something steadier and far colder.

Duty.

Calculation.

And a single iron resolve.

If the throne was a cage, then it was one she had chosen with her eyes open.

She exhaled slowly, almost soundlessly.

Tomorrow, she would become queen.

Whether it felt like victory or loss no longer mattered.

"I hope there’s some good in him. I wonder if things are going well for Kaizar.."