CHAPTER 192: ECHOES OF THE PAST, SPARKS OF CHAOS

[Osric’s Pov—Imperial Palace—Throne Room—Continuation]

The Emperor’s gaze pinned me like a blade. His eyes burned—cold, merciless, and bright with a fury that only a father could wield.

"The one who brought my daughter back to me," he said, each word deliberate, sharp enough to cut. "The only man worthy of standing at her side. Not you, Osric. Never you."

The words landed like hammer strikes. My chest tightened, and my pulse roared in my ears.

Not you.

I had expected anger, maybe even his blade, but not this—this dismissal, this quiet, cruel judgment. It was heavier than any wound I had ever carried.

My throat worked, but the words came out strained. "Does... does Lavi know about this—"

His voice cracked like a whip. "’HER HIGHNESS, THE CROWN PRINCESS,’" he corrected, his tone laced with venom.

I froze, the sound of it chilling my spine.

"She is not your Lavi, Osric," the Emperor said, stepping forward. His presence swelled, filling the room, suffocating. "She is your empress. Nothing more. And you—" His gaze swept over me like one would regard a failing soldier. "You are nothing but a shield, a weapon to be pointed where she commands. That is your purpose. Nothing else."

I wanted to speak, to defend myself, to remind him that my loyalty had never wavered, that everything I did—every sin, every betrayal—was to keep her safe. But my tongue was heavy, my throat closing around unspoken words.

The Emperor came closer still, close enough that I could feel the weight of his authority pressing down on me like an iron hand.

"So, know your place. Serve her crown, protect her. But do not—" his eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a quiet, lethal promise—"ever cross the boundary. In this life, my daughter will not be bound to cowards. She will not suffer for your weakness again."

My fingers twitched at my sides, nails biting into my palms. He wasn’t even touching me, and yet I felt as if invisible hands were wrapped around my neck, stealing the air from my lungs.

Then he turned his back to me, the dismissal final, sharp as a blade’s edge. "GET OUT."

I bowed low to hide the storm on my face, but my heart... my heart was breaking all over again.

My boots echoed softly against the polished stone, the sound swallowed by the hollow stillness of the palace corridors. Each step felt heavier than the last. His words rang in my mind, merciless, unrelenting.

Not you. Never you.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms until they burned. "Was I that pathetic to even stand beside her?" I whispered to the empty hall.

The bitterness in my throat was almost unbearable. But then his words twisted into something far more troubling.

The one who brought my daughter back to me.

I stopped walking, my breath catching. Brought her back?

Marshi—the divine beast. Yes, Marshi held power over fate, but even a divine beast could not alter the fate entirely. I knew that. They always needed a human hand to tip the scales. If someone truly turned back time—someone who could twist what was already written...

Who?

Who could wield such power?

I stared at the long, cold hallway ahead of me.

Whoever that person was, they were the reason Lavinia stood alive, radiant, untouchable. And the Emperor... he would protect that truth with steel and fire.

A hollow laugh escaped me, bitter and broken. "So that’s it. Even time itself conspired to keep her from me."

I straightened, the mask returning to my face. But inside, something fractured further.

And I kept walking, swallowed by the endless corridors, carrying a heart too heavy for my own chest.

***

[Emperor Cassius’s Pov—Later]

The echo of Osric’s footsteps faded, but my anger did not. My hand still itched to draw my sword and end him where he stood. He bowed like a loyal subject, but I saw it—clear as day—in his eyes: the storm, the guilt, and the longing he had no right to feel.

Lavinia. My daughter. Empress-to-be. He dared to call her "Lavi," as though she were his to claim.

Fool.

He doesn’t understand. I will be the wall he cannot cross, the blade he cannot outrun. My daughter’s fate belongs to no man—not to Osric especially.

"Ravick," I called, my voice sharp enough to slice the silence. "Did you find him?"

Ravick shook his head, his jaw tightening. "Not yet, Your Majesty. I’ve questioned every mage, every priest, and every scholar known to hold great power. No archmage, no divine priest, no one with the ability to turn back time exists—or if they do, they’re hidden well."

My fist clenched, the leather of my glove creaking under the pressure. "Find him, Ravick. Search every corner of this empire. I don’t care if you have to burn every library, bribe every snake, or drag every trembling mage by their collar—find him. He’s out there. Someone who turned the wheel of fate, with the help of Marshi and only he can tell me why Osric remembers the past. Only he can tell me..."

My voice dropped, cold as steel. "If Lavinia remembers too or not."

Ravick hesitated, then asked quietly, "Your Majesty... do you believe that turning back time caused this? People recalling fragments of their past lives through dreams? Through nightmares?"

I turned to him, my brow furrowed. "Explain."

"Think about it," Ravick continued. "You remember. I remember. Lord Osric remembers. All of us... haunted by visions, reliving moments we should not know. What if this is the price of tampering with fate? And if it’s true..." His voice lowered. "Do you think Marquis Everett, Caelum and Lady Eleania... do they remember as well?"

For a moment, the corridors felt colder, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

That was my fear too.

If those Vipers remember, if those vipers hold the same memory as we do, then this is no longer one of power. It is a war of memory and cunning, far more dangerous than before.

"I don’t know," I admitted, my tone like a low growl. "But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the cost, whatever the enemies hiding in the shadows, I will protect my daughter. She is my light, my heir, and my reason for turning the world upside down. And if any of them—even one—dares to use this knowledge against her..."

I looked straight at Ravick, my eyes burning with promise.

"I will burn their empires. I will turn this world to ash. This time, no one will take her from me. NOT EVEN THAT GOD."

***

[Lavinia’s Pov—Dawnspire Wing—The Next Day]

"AAAAAGHHHH!!! MARSHI!!!"

Sera’s scream could probably be heard across the palace. "Did you burn another dress of Her Highness?!"

I froze, my hands midair, staring at the rising wisp of smoke curling from my hem. "Oh no. Not again—!"

Marshi, the majestic, terrifying, sacred divine beast... was currently hopping in a circle like a guilty cat, his enormous tail sweeping priceless vases out of the way as tiny flames danced on the end of it.

"Water! Water! WATER!" I yelped, grabbing the nearest jug.

Sera was stomping on my poor dress like it was a venomous snake. "Hold it still, Your Highness!"

"I AM HOLDING IT STILL!"

"YOU’RE MOVING!"

"BECAUSE IT’S ON FIRE!"

"Hurry—!"

I splashed the water with all the grace of a panicked toddler. HISSSSS! Steam rose in a dramatic swirl.

Both of us froze. Then exhaled in perfect unison.

"Crisis... averted," I muttered weakly.

Sera straightened, hair wild, face flushed. I glanced down at the charred hem and then at the culprit.

Marshi sat on his haunches, ears flat, eyes wide, and tail curled tightly around him like an ashamed kitten. The mighty divine beast—looking like he was about to cry.

I sighed. Kneeling down, I cupped his massive, furry cheeks between both my palms. "Did you lose control over your power again, hmm?"

He let out the saddest, tiniest rumble of guilt.

"Oh, you big baby." I hugged him, burying my face in his warm fur. "There, there. It’s okay. Accidents happen. I can buy another dress."

Sera bent down, pinching a blackened scrap of cloth from the wreckage. "Your Highness... you do realize this was the dress His Majesty gifted you?"

My soul left my body.

"Wha—WHAT?!"

She held up the ash like evidence at a crime scene.

"Papa’s... gift..." I whispered, staring at the charred fabric in my hands as if I could will it back to life. Marshi let out another guilty purr, lower this time, like a drum of doom.

"No, no, no, no. This is fine. This is fine." My voice cracked as I patted Marshi’s snout with trembling hands. "Accidents happen, right? Right? He’ll... he’ll understand. Surely. Maybe. Probably not."

Sera picked the burnt dress. "Your Highness, with all due respect, you need to do something before this creature burns down the entire chamber. First your shoes, then the curtains, now His Majesty’s gift."

I looked at the big furball clinging to me like a guilty puppy. How could I be angry when he looked this cute?

Still... she wasn’t wrong.

"I don’t understand," I murmured, running my fingers through his thick fur. "First, he regained his power late, and now he’s losing control over it... why? What’s happening to you, Marshi?"

The beast only purred again, deep and remorseful, and I suddenly had the sinking feeling this was only the beginning of the chaos to come.