Chapter 67 The Emperor's Move
Emperor Aurelion Kade
I watched Magnus Ironside leave, my gaze narrowing. He moved with the arrogance of one who knew the favor of a king, untouchable. Every step, every tilt of his head carried certainty, as though the world itself existed to accommodate him. I owed my throne to Magnus, and I would not forget it, but loyalty and cunning rarely walked together. He was a man whose scheming shadow reached further than his presence, and he needed to be watched.
As the massive doors of the Throne Room closed behind him, I acted. The Enforcers remained in rigid formation, waiting. Cyrus stood slightly back, his head lowered in the way of those who understood authority but knew not to challenge it. None dared look directly at me.
“Cyrus, stay,” I said quietly. “The rest of you leave.”
The command was simple, but it carried weight.
The Enforcers withdrew immediately, their boots echoing softly against the marble. The sound of armor shifting in rhythm faded. Cyrus advanced up the marble steps and stopped near the throne, eyes lowered.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said. “What do you need me to do?”
“Trace everything,” I said. “Every surface in Magnus’ hall. Every scroll, every book, every fragment of magical residue. Identify every spell he has cast. Every secret he has touched. Do not leave a single trace unexamined.”
Cyrus inclined his head. “It shall be done, Your Majesty. But the hall’s wards—”
“I want them undone, unraveled, dissected,” I interrupted, my voice rising slightly. “Call the Imperial Seers. I want them to see into Magnus’ past, every choice, every tie, every secret he believes long buried. I want to see what he cannot hide from himself.”
“Your Majesty, the Imperial Seers were summoned by Magnus not long ago,” Cyrus said cautiously. “If we summon them, they may speak of it to the Imperial Advisor.”
I took a steady breath. Magnus was already moving behind my back. “Then summon him quietly, Cyrus. You know the one I speak of. Do not draw attention. The Dark Prince and I are not in good terms.”
Cyrus nodded. “I will be discreet.”
“Watch the ravens, but do not intercept them,” I added. “Go. Quickly.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Cyrus bowed and left.
I was finally alone.
The hall felt enormous without witnesses. Silence pressed around me, but I did not break under it. I descended from the throne slowly, posture straight, each movement calculated. I would not allow empty space to see weakness.
Magnus had crossed a line. Threatening the Empress was not strategy. It was control, direct and personal. I exhaled slowly, forcing my thoughts into order. He had always held power. He had placed me on this throne, controlled the council, commanded loyalty from men who should have answered only to the crown.
But this was different. This was a reminder.
I walked across the hall. The sound of my boots echoed steadily against the marble, each step giving me time to assess, to calculate. He would kill my child if given the chance. Magnus did not bluff. He never had. If he said he would act, he already knew how.
My hand curled into a fist. I had allowed this.
Years ago, he had given me the poison to kill my father. “One drop,” he had said. “That is all you need. Undetectable. Your father will appear to die of a weak heart. Place it in his drink as he retires for the night.”
At the time, Arcanis threatened rebellion, and the Empire under my father’s reign teetered on the edge of collapse. Magnus had been the solution. He removed enemies with precision, silenced opposition without hesitation, restored order where chaos had reigned. All of it came at a cost. A cost I had accepted in order to ascend the throne.
And now, that cost stood before me, dictating terms as if the Empire itself were his to command. His presence, his ambition, his capacity for control—all of it reminded me that power carried a price, and I had already begun paying it.
By the time I reached the doors to my private hall, my expression had regained composure.
“Open,” I ordered.
The guards obeyed immediately. Lanterns along the walls ignited as the doors closed behind me. I pressed the insignia of the crown pinned to my robes.
“High Examiner Viktor Crone and Magistrate of Ember, Elowen Pyra,” I summoned.
The Magistrate arrived first. She wore pristine white robes, long curly white hair cascading behind her, her emerald tree of knowledge insignia pinned to her breast. She bent the knee in a precise bow.
“What service can I provide the crown?” she asked, her dark blue eyes steady.
I allowed a brief smile. Elowen had always been capable, charming in her intellect and deliberate in her judgments. She had a temper, yes, but she had always respected authority. That would serve well today.
Before I could speak further, the High Examiner appeared, similarly attired in white robes, the sigil of the Grand Ranking Orb emblazoned on his chest. His surprise at seeing Elowen was immediate.
“Elowen, what are you doing here?” he asked.
“Like you, I was summoned by the Emperor,” the Magistrate replied.
“Yes, I summoned you both,” I said, keeping my tone steady. “I have questions about a girl from the Dust District. Viktor, you have records of the Dustborn who were tested on Ranking Day?”
He nodded. “There are many, Your Majesty. Who do you mean?”
“The one who tested violet,” I said.
Viktor hesitated. “Contrary to rumors, there… there was no girl who tested violet. It was perceived as an anomaly.”
"Yet you have a name?”
“Sera Bale," he answered.
“When she touched the Ranking Orb, it initially turned violet, correct?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, but it quickly reverted to red. It was an anomaly, unexplained.”
“Did you receive such reports, Magistrate?” I asked.
Elowen shook her head. “I was not informed of any anomaly, Your Majesty.”
“Then you will ensure immediate oversight of the Academy and the Grand Ranking Orb,” I said. “Secure it. Report any breaches. Nothing leaves the vault without my knowledge.”
“Understood, Your Majesty,” she said, her posture rigid.
“Based on your knowledge,” I pressed, “is the girl a Celestial?”
“I cannot confirm,” Elowen replied. “You must ask the Warden of Dust—she has seen it firsthand I believe. But from what I have gathered, there is talk of a girl last seen in the district exhibiting abilities unseen in a millennium.”
“And those abilities are?” I asked.
“Pyrokinesis,” she said. “Fire. A Celestial power.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stiffened. Fire. No one in the Empire could conjure it. My jaw tightened as realization struck. Magnus knew. He must know. He intends to use her. That was why he wanted her brother—to draw her out, to manipulate her into his plans. And now, the responsibility fell to me to counter it before his schemes reached their end.
I pressed the insignia again.
“General Halwyn Kraven,” I said, seating myself heavily.
The general appeared quickly, broad-shouldered and armored, helm tucked under his arm. He bowed sharply.
“You summoned me, Your Majesty?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Status of deployment on Ashwood Forest?”
“Already in motion,” he replied. “Units are following your orders.”
I fixed my gaze on him. “Adjust it. The operation in Ashwood Forest will continue under revised orders.”
Kraven's eyes sharpened. “Revised?”
“I need you to find a girl named Sera Bale,” I said firmly. “She is a rebel. Capture her alive. No unnecessary casualties. The forest remains intact.”
“And if she resists?” Kraven asked.
“You will not kill her. That is not the objective,” I said, my voice firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Nothing more, nothing less. She is to be brought in alive.” I paused, letting the command sink in. “Offer her amnesty. Tell her I will protect her. Tell her she may serve in my court if she chooses. Make it clear that resistance serves no purpose, but obedience will be rewarded.”
My gaze swept over the general, measuring comprehension, watching for hesitation. This was not a suggestion. Every instruction, every word, carried the weight of the Empire. Every action they took would reflect my authority, and there would be no forgiveness for failure.
He inclined his head. “Surveillance first. Track her movements. Limit engagement. Only act when capture or negotiation is possible.” I watched him closely, noting the tension in his shoulders, the weight of responsibility in his tone.
I turned to all three of them. “Nothing leaves this room. Not a word. Not to the council. Not to Magnus.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” they said in unison.
I fixed my gaze on Elowen. “One more thing. I require access to Magnus' office at the Academy. Make it available to me.”
“As you wish,” she said.
"You all may leave."
Magnus may have believed he could control events from afar, but he had underestimated the precision and loyalty of those who served the Empire directly.
I would not be caught off guard again. Not by Magnus, not by rebels, and certainly not by anyone who believed the Empire could be dictated by fear alone.
I touched my insignia once again.
"Dust Warden Elara Voss," I summoned.