Chapter 37: The Chosen Phoenix Consort

In the Solkanaia Imperial Palace, the morning sun cast its golden rays across the marble corridors, illuminating the intricate carvings that adorned the walls and the silk banners that hung from the ceilings.

The air was thick with the scent of incense, a blend of sandalwood and jasmine that drifted through the open windows, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the ornamental trees in the courtyard below.

Dawn’s carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Omega Empress Dowager’s palace, the wheels are crunching against the gravel path that led to the grand entrance. The carriage was elegant, adorned with the colors of the Ashrein Kingdom, and the horses that pulled it were sleek and well-groomed, their coats are gleaming in the morning light.

The driver, a man who had served the royal family for decades, climbed down from his perch and opened the door with a respectful bow, offering his hand to the princess who emerged from within.

Princess Dawn stepped out of the carriage, her movements were graceful and practiced, the result of years of training in courtly etiquette. She was dressed in a gown of pale lavender silk, embroidered with delicate silver flowers that caught the light with every step she took.

Her dark hair was arranged in an elaborate style, woven with ribbons and pearls, and her face was carefully composed, though there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes that she could not quite hide.

Behind her, Liv dismounted from her horse, her armor was gleaming in the sunlight. She had ridden alongside the carriage, her eyes were constantly scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. As the appointed guardian of Princess Dawn, she took her duties seriously, and she would not allow anything to happen to the princess under her protection.

The usher, a man with graying hair and a stern expression, stepped forward and announced their arrival. "Princess Dawn has arrived, Your Majesty," he said, his voice was carrying through the open doors of the palace.

Inside, Qazaethel sat beside her oma, the Empress Dowager, her expression was carefully neutral as she brought a teacup to her lips and took a slow, deliberate sip. The tea was hot and fragrant, a blend that she had always enjoyed, but today it did nothing to ease the tension that coiled in her chest.

The Empress Dowager, an omega woman who had once been renowned for her beauty and who still carried herself with an air of authority, was clearly not pleased with her daughter’s attitude.

She had been trying to engage Qazaethel in conversation for the past hour, attempting to prepare her for the arrival of her cousin, but Qazaethel had responded to every attempt with cold indifference.

"Qazaethel," the Empress Dowager said, her voice carried a note of warning, "won’t you greet your cousin?"

Qazaethel set her teacup down with a soft clink, her movements were unhurried and deliberate. She turned her gaze toward her mother, her pale eyes are revealing nothing of the thoughts that churned beneath the surface.

"What’s the use of fake pleasantries when we can end this discussion, Oma?" She replied, her voice was cold and measured.

The Empress Dowager’s eyes narrowed, her lips are pressing into a thin line. "Insolent!" She spat, though she kept her voice low, mindful of the servants who stood nearby.

Qazaethel remained neutral, her expression was unchanged by her mother’s outburst. She was used to the Empress Dowager’s behavior, had endured it for thousands of years, and it no longer bothered her.

There had been a time when her mother’s words could wound her, could make her question herself and her decisions. But that time had long since passed, and now she viewed her mother’s barbs with the same detachment she might view the buzzing of a fly.

"You must treat Dawn well," the Empress Dowager continued, trying to keep her voice level and dignified, "for she is the princess of the Ashrein Kingdom!"

Qazaethel’s gaze remained steady, her expression was still unreadable. "And I am the ruler of Solkanaia," she said, her voice carried the weight of her authority. "Dawn has nothing to do with this, Oma."

The Empress Dowager leaned forward slightly, her hands are clasped tightly in her lap. "If we merge Solkanaia and Ashrein, we’ll become the most powerful kingdoms in the realm," she said, her voice was taking on a persuasive tone. "Think of the possibilities, Qazaethel. Think of what we could achieve together."

Qazaethel’s eyes flickered with something that might have been amusement, though her expression remained cold. "Yet it will bring so much political war," she replied, her voice was flat. "The other kingdoms will not stand idly by while we consolidate power. They will form alliances against us, will seek to tear us down before we can grow too strong."

The Empress Dowager heaved a sigh, clearly frustrated with her daughter’s stubbornness. She had expected Qazaethel to see reason, to understand the strategic importance of this marriage. But Qazaethel had always been difficult, had always insisted on doing things her own way, and never shown the proper deference that a daughter owed to her mother.

"You will do as I say because I am your Oma!" the Empress Dowager declared, her voice was rising despite her efforts to remain composed.

Qazaethel scoffed, the sound was sharp and dismissive. She turned her gaze fully toward her mother, her eyes are cold and unyielding.

"You must be happy that I am playing with your whims," she said, her voice was low and dangerous, "but do not test my patience for respect, Mother." She paused, letting the words sink in. "You are my Oma, the Empress Dowager, but I am still the sovereign of Solkanaia."

The Empress Dowager was left speechless, her mouth was opening and closing as she struggled to find a response. She had not expected such defiance, had not anticipated that her daughter would speak to her in such a manner. She rolled her eyes away, a gesture of dismissal that did little to hide her anger.

"Let Dawn enter," the Empress Dowager finally commanded, her voice was tight with suppressed fury.

The servants moved to obey, pulling open the grand doors that led to the throne room. The morning light streamed in, illuminating the figure of Princess Dawn as she stepped through the doorway. She took a few measured steps, her movements were graceful and deliberate, before stopping before the throne. She placed her palm flat against her chest and bowed, a gesture of respect that was both formal and sincere.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Dawn said, a polite smile on her lips.

She was wearing a beautiful royalty gown that dazzled against the bright light of the room, the fabric was shimmering with every movement. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes were bright with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. She had not seen her cousin in years, had not known what to expect from this meeting, but she had hoped for a warm reception.

"Oh, Dawn!" the Empress Dowager exclaimed, her voice suddenly became warm and welcoming. "I missed you. Come and sit next to Qazaethel."

But Dawn hesitated, her gaze flickered toward Qazaethel. The sovereign’s expression was detached, almost cold, and Dawn felt her heart sink. She had heard stories about Qazaethel, had been told that she was a stern ruler who did not suffer fools gladly. But she had hoped that their familial connection would soften her, would make this meeting easier.

When she saw Qazaethel’s detached expression, she gulped and hesitated in her steps, her confidence was wavering.

"Don’t act like a frightened bird there," Qazaethel said, her voice was flat and unimpressed.

Dawn felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had not meant to appear weak, had not intended to show her nervousness so plainly. She took a steadying breath and forced herself to move forward, taking shaky steps until she reached the seat beside Qazaethel.

"Uhm... Forgive me, Your Majesty," Dawn said, her voice was soft and apologetic.

Qazaethel did not respond, her gaze was fixed on some point in the distance. She had no interest in this meeting, no desire to play the role of the gracious host. She was here because her mother had demanded it, because the political implications of this marriage were too significant to ignore. But that did not mean she had to pretend to enjoy it.

Qazaethel and Dawn were second cousins, their parents had been good first cousins who had promised their hands in marriage back when they were children. It was an arrangement that had been made decades ago, a union that was meant to strengthen the ties between their kingdoms.

But Qazaethel had never been interested in the arrangement, had never felt any affection for Dawn beyond the familial bond that connected them.

"Look at you two," the Empress Dowager said, her voice warm and nostalgic. "You two are still adorable together."

Dawn politely giggled, though the sound was forced. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice was light and pleasant.

Qazaethel kept her composure, her expression unchanged. She gestured to a nearby servant, who hurried forward to pour her a glass of wine instead of tea. She brought the goblet to her lips and took a slow sip, the rich flavor of the wine was doing little to improve her mood.

"Dawn," the Empress Dowager said, her voice was taking on a more serious tone, "I suppose you already know why I summoned you here."

The smile on Dawn’s face suddenly vanished, replaced by a look of apprehension. She had known this moment would come, had dreaded it since the moment she received the summons. But knowing and experiencing were two different things, and she found herself struggling to maintain her composure.

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty," she said, her voice was barely above a whisper. She kept her gaze lowered, unable to meet the Empress Dowager’s eyes.

"It’s time to announce your marriage with Qazaethel," the Empress Dowager continued, her voice was carrying the weight of authority, "and for you to sit down as the Phoenix Consort Empress of the Sovereign."

Every word cut Dawn deeper than she had acknowledged, slicing through the fragile hope she had harbored that perhaps this meeting would be different. She had known this was coming, had been prepared for it, but hearing it spoken aloud made it real in a way that nothing else could. She nodded, her movements were stiff and mechanical.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice was hollow.

Qazaethel set her goblet down, her expression was still cold and unreadable. "Expect that everything will be a transaction," she said, her voice was flat and dismissive. "This marriage will be nothing but arrangement."

Dawn remained silent, her hands are clasped tightly in her lap. She had known this, had understood from the beginning that this marriage was not about love or affection. It was about politics, about power, about the union of two kingdoms. But hearing Qazaethel say it so bluntly, so coldly, made her heart ache in a way she had not expected.

"Qazaethel!" the Empress Dowager yelled, her voice was turning sharp with anger. "Have some respect!"

Once again, Qazaethel did not flinch. She had grown immune to her mother’s outbursts, had learned long ago that the Empress Dowager’s anger was a weapon that could only wound if she allowed it to.

"Don’t worry, Your Majesty," Dawn said quickly, her voice was trembling slightly. "I... I am already aware of my place."

Qazaethel stood up, her movements were fluid and graceful. She had no desire to continue this conversation, no interest in playing the role of the dutiful daughter. She had more important matters to attend to, more pressing concerns that demanded her attention.

"I shall take my leave," she said, her voice was carrying a note of finality.

"No!" The Empress Dowager commanded, rising from her seat. "You will stay here!"

But Qazaethel did not stop her tracks. She walked toward the door, her steps were measured and deliberate. The servants moved to open the door for her, their movements are quick and efficient. But before she could step through, her mother’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Think about what will happen to that girl, Eiravelle, if you leave that door."

The words stopped Qazaethel in her tracks. Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something—fear, perhaps, or anger—crossing her features before she could suppress it. She kept her composure, forcing herself to remain calm, and slowly turned around to face her mother.

"What did you say?" She asked, her voice was dangerously low.

The Empress Dowager smiled, a cold, calculating expression that made Qazaethel’s blood run cold. "So it was true," she said, her voice was dripping with satisfaction. "You and that disgrace omega had something."

"..." Dawn remained silent.

"How did you know that, Oma?!" Qazaethel demanded, her voice was rising despite her efforts to remain calm.

"I am the Empress Dowager," her mother replied, her voice was smug. "I have a spy!"

Qazaethel’s eyes narrowed, her hands are clenching into fists at her sides. "You’re spying on me now," she said, her voice was trembling with barely contained fury, "which I strictly prohibited!"

"I am your mother!" the Empress Dowager shot back, her voice was rising to match her daughter’s.

"YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHTS!" Qazaethel screamed, her composure finally shattered.

The ground shook beneath their feet, the walls trembled as though struck by an earthquake. The candles that lined the room flickered wildly before extinguishing, their flames turning to smoke that curled toward the ceiling.

The servants screamed, scrambling to find cover, and even the Empress Dowager’s composure faltered as the full force of her daughter’s power was unleashed.

Qazaethel’s eyes turned into bright gold, blazing with fury. She was no longer the cold, composed empress who had sat sipping tea just moments before. She was a being of immense power, and her wrath was a terrifying thing to behold.

"You’ve crossed the line!" Qazaethel shrieked, her voice echoed through the room.

Dawn was frightened beyond words. She had never seen anything like this, had never witnessed the raw power that Qazaethel possessed. She immediately hid under the table, her body was trembling with fear and her heart was pounding in her chest.

But the Empress Dowager remained calm, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. She had known that her daughter was powerful, had understood the extent of her abilities, but she had never expected to be on the receiving end of that power.

She forced herself to remain composed, to show no fear, even as the ground continued to shake beneath her feet.

Then Liv entered the room.

She had heard the commotion from outside, had felt the trembling of the ground, and had known immediately what was happening. She rushed into the room, her eyes are scanning the scene before her, and saw Qazaethel standing in the center of the room, her eyes are blazing with fury.

"Your Majesty, calm down!" Liv said, approaching Qazaethel slowly, cautiously.

She saw how Dawn was frightened, saw the way the princess cowered under the table, and felt a pang of sympathy for her. But her primary concern was Qazaethel, was calming the soveriegn before she do something she would regret.

She reached out and shook Qazaethel gently, then held her, her grip was firm but gentle. "Calm down!" she said, her voice was urgent. "They’re omegas. You cannot hurt them."

The words penetrated the fog of Qazaethel’s fury. She blinked, her eyes are slowly returning to their normal color, and realized what she had been about to do. She had been about to hurt omegas—her own mother and her own cousin. That was something she prohibited herself from doing, something she had sworn never to do without a right reason to justify it.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. The ground stopped shaking, the smoke from the extinguished candles began to dissipate, and the room slowly returned to normal.

"You dare to scare me, Qazaethel!" the Empress Dowager yelled, her voice was shaking with a mixture of anger and fear.

Qazaethel turned to face her mother, her expression was cold and composed once more. But there was something different in her eyes now, something that had not been there before—a hard edge that spoke of a line that had been crossed and would not be crossed again.

"No," she said, her voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel. "I am merely reminding you of your place, Mother."

She took a step forward, her gaze was fixed on the Empress Dowager, and the older woman instinctively flinch slightly.

"This is your first warning," Qazaethel continued, her voice was low and dangerous. "If I find out you are meddling with my business again, I will personally strip away all your possessions and title. Mark my words."

The Empress Dowager was shocked to hear that, her face was paling as the implications of her daughter’s words sank in. She had always believed that her position as the Empress Dowager gave her power, gave her the right to interfere in her daughter’s life. But Qazaethel had just made it clear that she was willing to take that power away, to reduce her to nothing if she overstepped again.

"And as for Eiravelle," Qazaethel added, her voice was dropping to a whisper that somehow carried more weight than any shout, "you will never touch her. If you do... Pray to whatever Gods you believe in, because I will surely find you even if you go to the void."

Everyone in the room gasped as they heard that. Even Liv, who had known Qazaethel for years, had never heard her make such a threat. It was a declaration of intense disobedience against filial piety. But Qazaethel doesn’t care.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN ME!" the Empress Dowager screamed, her composure was finally shattering.

But Qazaethel was already walking away, her steps are steady and sure. She did not care even if her mother was screaming curses at the top of her lungs, did not care if the entire palace heard the Empress Dowager’s fury. She had said what she needed to say, had made her position clear.

She had drawn a line in the sand, and she would defend it with everything she had.

The doors closed behind Qazaethel with a heavy thud, leaving the room in a tense silence. The Empress Dowager sat frozen, her chest was heaving with anger and humiliation, her hands are trembling at her sides. She had not expected this, had not anticipated that her daughter would defy her so completely.

Dawn slowly emerged from under the table, her face was pale and her hands are shaking. She had been terrified by what she had witnessed, had seen a side of Qazaethel that she had never imagined existed.

"Your Majesty," Dawn said quietly, her voice was barely above a whisper, "are you alright?"

The Empress Dowager did not respond, did not even acknowledge that Dawn had spoken. She simply sat there, her gaze was fixed on the door through which her daughter had disappeared, and tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Liv moved to stand beside Dawn, her expression was unreadable. She had known that Qazaethel was powerful, had understood the extent of her abilities, but she had never seen her lose control like that. It was a reminder of just how dangerous the empress could be, a reminder that she was not just a ruler but as someone who is near attaining Godhood.

"We should go," Liv said quietly, placing a hand on Dawn’s arm. "There’s nothing more to be done here."

Dawn nodded, allowing Liv to guide her toward the door. She cast one last glance at the Empress Dowager, who still stood motionless, and felt a pang of something—pity, perhaps, or understanding.

She had seen the way Qazaethel had looked at her mother, had seen the coldness in her eyes, and she understood that whatever relationship they had was complicated and fraught with pain.

As they stepped outside, the morning sun was warm on their faces, a stark contrast to the coldness that had filled the room. Dawn took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill her lungs, and tried to calm her racing heart.

"Is she always like that?" Dawn asked quietly, her voice trembling.

Liv considered the question for a moment, her expression was thoughtful. "Qazaethel is... Complicated," she said finally. "She has a temper, but she also has a strong sense of justice. She will protect those she cares about, no matter the cost."

Dawn nodded slowly, processing the information. She had come to this palace expecting to meet a cold, distant ruler, had prepared herself for a marriage that would be nothing more than a political arrangement.

But she had seen something different, something deeper, and she found herself wondering what other secrets Qazaethel might be hiding.

"Who is Eiravelle?" Dawn asked, the name slipping from her lips before she could stop it.

Liv’s expression flickered, something unreadable passing through her eyes. "That’s not for me to say," she replied quietly. "If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Qazaethel herself."

Dawn nodded, though she knew she would not ask. Some things were better left unknown, some secrets are better left buried. She had enough to worry about without adding the mysteries of Qazaethel’s heart to the list.

They walked in silence, leaving the palace behind them, and Dawn found herself thinking about the threat that Qazaethel had made on behalf of Eiravelle. It was a declaration of love, she realized—not the romantic kind, perhaps, but love nonetheless. The kind of love that drove people to do extraordinary things, to defy their own families, to risk everything for the sake of another.

She wondered if she would ever inspire that kind of loyalty in someone, that kind of devotion. And for the first time since she had arrived in Solkanaia, she felt a flicker of hope that perhaps this marriage, despite its cold beginning, might lead to something more.