84: A Kingdom Without Limits

He became tight with his grip even more as he read again the parchment with the words from Elara: Bring your most powerful mage alongside. There were a thousand-watt questions in his head, but if something became clear to him, Elara planned something far beyond a simple revelry.

He turned sharply around his heel and strode out towards the messaging center with quick and determined strides. He had to find her, to demand an explanation, to understand why she was acting like this. But as soon as he stepped into the corridor, he saw her standing just ahead, waiting.

And before Alden could speak, that steady smile of "Oh! I almost forgot to mention-it will be council meeting in an hour. Be sure not to be late" swept the surface.

Then she tossed him her attentive smile and turned on her value heels.

Alden stared after her, jaw clenched.

That was no small reminder.

She was not asking him to attend. She was telling him.

It was a command.

And at that moment, Alden realized, beyond any doubt, that something was very wrong with Elara.

The great murmur of the grand council chamber, which now commenced at the one end, kept a long wooden table edged with noblemen and advisors and military officials carved with symbols of the kingdom's living history. Sunlight poured through the tall arched windows and creased the floor of stone alcoves with patchy shadows.

There was Elara at the head of the table; unmistakably, she sat in deep red velvet this day, pooling around her as she inclined, hands delicately resting on the polished wood. And with her stance, the way she took the room, Alden lost something he could not have defined.

He took his position beside her, but she didn't even look at it. She raised her head and began with a clear and commanding voice.

"My lords and esteemed council," Elara said, her voice smooth and unwavering. "I have called you here today to speak of something most vital-the future of our kingdom."

There was a murmur of agreement around the table. Alden remained silent.

"For centuries, we have stood strong. We have defended our lands and built great cities, nurtured prosperity. But, tell me-" she paused, eyes sweeping over them or "Is it enough?"

The council members exchanged glances.

One of those older lords, Lord Darian, cleared his throat. "My Queen, our lands thrive. We have more than we ever dreamed of."

"Do we?" Elara leaned herself forward slightly, her bright green eyes glinting. "Or have we merely convinced ourselves that this is all we can achieve?"

A ripple of uncertainty passed through the room.

"Our neighbors prosper, yet they lack guidance, unity," Elara had continued. "What if I told you that we have the opportunity to bring them under one rule-under our rule? That we could shape an empire unlike any seen before?"

A few lords murmured in intrigue; others nodded thought.

That was Alden's first venture. "You talk of expansion," he cozily stated, "but what exactly do you mean by bringing them under one rule?"

Elara's lips curled into a knowing smile. "By that I mean, exactly, my King. Fifty kingdoms lie beyond our borders. Some strong, some weak. All separate. All vulnerable."

She let the words hang in the air.

Young Lord Edric leaned over curious once again. "And you propose alliances?"

Elara raised her eyebrows. "Alliances are fragile, Edric. They break with time. I propose something stronger-a future where our kingdom is not just a single force, but the force. A future where we do not wait for threats to come to us, but ensure there are none left to stand against us."

Alden's chest tightened. He saw it now.

She was speaking not of alliances.

She was speaking of conquest.

Yet no one else seemed to hear it.

Lord Darian nodded thoughtfully. "If we were to extend our reach, we would need to ensure stability."

Elara nodded. "Exactly. Which is why I have decided to take the liberty to my guests who would lead this entire land to a great feast."

"Dinner?" Alden turned sharply on her.

"Yes, my King," she faced him coolly. "An arena for the display of what we can offer our guests. An arena for leading them to understand that standing beside us is their greatest path forward."

"Or," Alden said quietly, dangerously, "show them that refusing us is not an option."

Elara's smile did not waver.

Lord Edric frowned slightly. "Surely, no one would refuse an opportunity for unity."

Alden stared at him. Could they not see it?

Elara was sitting back, unruffled. "We will make our intentions clear. A united kingdom is a strong kingdom. And strength is what we offer."

Murmurs of concurrence permeated the environment.

Alden glanced around, and disbelief folded itself into his chest. They were nodding. They were listening.

They were agreeing.

He turned back to Elara.

She had consumed them whole. She had phrased her words just right-presentation as unity, expansion as protection.

And the worst part?

No one else seemed to see the difference.

"Elara," Alden said slowly, penetrating the noise, "this path you propose-it is not one of unity. It is one of war."

This time she simply chuckled softly.

"My love," she murmured, reaching to touch his hand with her cold fingers against his skin. "War is only war if someone resists."

The chamber was silent.

Alden stared at her, a knot of fury twisting in his stomach.

He had lost control of this meeting before it even began.

Elara had already established her dominance.

The jaws of Alden tightened as he surveyed the room. The way lords nodded-the way they went from contemplation to agreement-it was almost like they had been waiting for someone to propose this.

He turned to Elara, this time more sharply. "And what if they do resist, Elara? What if these kingdoms you speak of refuse to bow to your vision of unity?"

Elara's lips curled into an indulging smile, as if she were speaking to a child in the world who didn't yet understand it. "Then, my King, we will show them why resistance is futile.”

A light buzz passed through the council. Lord Darian leaned forward, frowning. “My Queen, are you suggesting that we consider military action?”

Elara tilted her head. “I call it showing strength, Lord Darian. Strength does not always mean using the sword. A calculated whisper, an incentive, a reminder of what we can provide or take away very often achieves more than an army ever could.”

Sir Edric grinned, feeling somewhat braver. “Who would want to be foolish enough to refuse a gift of prosperity from us?”

Alden drew a sharp breath, his patience wearing thin. “You dare speak as if we were offering them a choice, yet your own voice denies such a thing.” He turned to the remainder of the council. “Are we truly that arrogant to think of justice as something we impose on them?”

Lord Roderic, an old warrior with deep scars crossing his cheek, rapped his fingers on the table. “Justice is awarded by the stronger, Your Majesty. If we do not rise, another kingdom shall. It would be foolishness to sit dormant while others inch forth.”

The fists of Alden were clenched underneath the table, as before him was a very clear vision: Elara's influence already had taken root.

Elara leaned forward; her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried within the chamber as if she were fully commanding it. “What must be decided? Shall we wait until others dare to defy us, or shall we ensure that such a challenge will never arise?”

Again, the room broke into agreement.

Alden felt his heartbeat race. “We are not waiting, Elara. We are prospering. We have strong borders, powerful allies—”

Smoothly, she cut him off. “Allies who would turn their backs on us the moment they find a better offer.” Her gaze slid around the table. “Tell me, my lords—how many of you trust our neighbors not to sharpen their blades while they smile in our direction?”

A loud silence answered.

Then Lord Darian coughed a little. “It is true that alliances are fluid. We must make sure never to be caught unguarded.”

Alden felt his patience snap. “And do you truly believe that taking what is not ours shall keep us safe?” He turned to Elara again. “At what cost, Elara? How many lives? How many innocent people must suffer for this supposed unity?”

Elara withstood his glare. “Change always comes with a sacrifice.”

Alden shook his head, his voice lowered to a near whisper. “This is not the woman I married.”

For the first time, something revealed itself in her gaze—something inscrutable, something ephemeral. But then it was gone.

She straightened and turned back to the council. “We will start work immediately. The feast will be our first manoeuvre. We will announce ourselves, and we will state our offer. If they step forward to resist—” she glanced at Alden, “—we shall bring out our full strength”.

Alden’s breath was measured. He could see it now.

Elara had already made her mind.

And no one in the room would stop her.

Not even him.