**Chapter Six: The Council of Vultures**
The dining hall was too quiet.
No music. No laughter. Just the clinking of silverware, the rustle of silk, and the unspoken tension that rippled through every noble seated at the massive U-shaped table.
This wasn't a dinner—it was a battlefield.
I sat beside Lorenzo, my hands resting stiffly on my lap. I wore another royal gown—dark wine red this time, with long sleeves and a high neck. Heavy rubies circled my throat. I was dressed like a queen.
But I didn't feel like one.
Across the table, members of the royal council watched me like hawks. I recognized some of them from the welcome ceremony. Lord Erand, the military commander. Lady Vinora, head of treasury. Duke Maldrin, Lorenzo's uncle and closest advisor. Then there were the quiet ones—the ones whose names I hadn't memorized yet, whose expressions gave nothing away, whose smiles were as sharp as their titles.
Vultures.
All of them.
Waiting for a crack in my mask.
Lorenzo sat like a statue beside me. Calm. Imposing. Cold as ever. He gave them nothing.
"This council is called to session," Lord Erand finally announced, his voice deep and grizzled. "To acknowledge Her Highness, Princess Zara, as Consort and future Queen."
A few nodded politely.
Most didn't move.
From across the table, Duke Maldrin gave a small, mocking smile. "With all due respect, we expected Amara. We were told she was the one promised."
Lorenzo's voice cut through the tension like ice. "Plans change."
"Yes," the Duke continued, swirling his wine slowly. "But should the kingdom bend to personal whims? Is that the message we now send to our allies?"
The implication was loud and clear. They didn't trust me. They didn't accept me. I was a substitution. An interruption. An inconvenience.
"She is a commoner," someone muttered.
I didn't know who said it, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.
I clenched my jaw.
Before I could speak, Lorenzo did.
"Do you challenge her title, Duke?"
Maldrin didn't flinch. "I challenge the secrecy. The speed. The recklessness. The Empire deserves stability, not last-minute wives sewn into borrowed gowns."
My blood boiled.
Lorenzo's hand twitched beside mine. But he stayed still. "It was my decision."
"Exactly," Maldrin said, leaning forward. "One man's decision. A ruler doesn't act alone. Not in matters of the Crown."
"She was accepted by the Council of Elders."
"The Elders are ceremonial."
Lorenzo's eyes darkened. "You tread a dangerous line, Uncle."
The entire room held its breath.
Lady Vinora, who had been quiet until now, spoke up smoothly. "Perhaps it would help if the Princess addressed us herself. Shared her background. Her values. Her place in all this."
"She doesn't owe anyone an explanation," Lorenzo replied coldly.
"I want to speak," I said suddenly.
My voice came out calm. Clear.
Everyone turned.
Lorenzo glanced at me. I saw the warning in his eyes. But I ignored it.
"I understand your doubts," I said, rising slowly. "I understand the discomfort you feel seeing someone like me in this room. I wasn't born into nobility. I didn't grow up in golden halls. But I've seen the world you try to rule. I've seen hunger. Pain. War. And I walked willingly into this marriage knowing what it would cost me."
Some looked surprised.
Others looked amused.
I pressed on.
"I may not come from legacy. But I bring something your titles can't offer—perspective. And courage. I didn't steal this title. I earned it the moment I walked into that church and vowed to carry the weight of this crown when no one else would."
There were murmurs.
"I didn't grow up in castles or courts. I don't know every tradition or rule. But I know hardship. I know loyalty. And I will not be a silent ornament in this kingdom. If that makes you uncomfortable—good. Change doesn't come from comfort."
Silence.
Then, softly—
Lady Vinora clapped.
Just once.
Then again.
Slow and deliberate.
A few nobles followed. Some reluctant, some calculating. Even Lord Erand gave a grunt of approval.
Duke Maldrin did not clap.
But he didn't speak again either.
I sat down, trying to hide how my hands shook beneath the table. My heart pounded in my chest.
Lorenzo didn't say anything.
But under the table, his fingers brushed mine. Once. Briefly.
A silent message: *Well done.*
* * *
The meeting dragged on with dry discussions about border disputes, taxes, trade route repairs. I tried to follow but failed. My head throbbed from tension.
Lorenzo remained focused throughout. Calculated. Never missing a beat. I saw why they feared him. He wasn't just powerful—he was intelligent. Every word, every glance, every pause was part of a strategy.
Eventually, the council was dismissed.
As the nobles filtered out, Duke Maldrin passed behind me. He leaned close, his breath brushing my ear.
"You'll wear the crown, girl. But remember—crowns are forged in fire, and you haven't burned yet."
I didn't flinch. I met his gaze.
"Then I hope you brought enough matches."
His smile froze. Then he walked away.
* * *
That night, I found myself in the rose courtyard. Alone.
The moon bathed the garden in silver. I sat on a stone bench, surrounded by flowers bred to bloom only at night. The scent was thick. Sweet. Almost too much.
I needed silence.
Space.
I hadn't even heard Lorenzo approach.
"You handled yourself better than expected," he said quietly, sitting beside me without asking.
I kept my eyes on the roses. "You expected me to crumble?"
"No. But I expected you to play nice."
"Sometimes fire is nicer than silence."
He let out a breath—almost a laugh.
"You're starting to understand this place," he said.
"Only because it keeps trying to break me."
He studied my face. "And you keep fighting back."
"I have to."
He was silent a moment.
Then: "I'm leaving tomorrow. For the border."
"For how long?"
"Three days. Maybe four."
"Should I come with you?"
"No. You'll stay here. The court still needs to see you. Learn to respect you."
"And if they don't?"
"Then I'll make them."
The way he said it made my spine tingle.
I stood, brushing invisible dust from my dress. "Then I'll be here. Waiting."
"Watch your back while I'm gone," he said. "Maldrin isn't finished."
"I know."
"And the Queen Mother might summon you."
"She hates me."
"She hates everyone. But don't say no if she calls."
I nodded.
He stepped closer. For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me.
But he didn't.
He simply said, "Don't let them see you bleed."
Then he left.
And I stood alone in the garden, the weight of the crown heavy on my head—
And thorns beneath every step.