After the princes and princess had left the throne hall, the Emperor and Empress ordered everyone else to leave as well, granting them privacy at last.
The heavy doors closed.
Silence settled over the vast chamber.
Only then did the Emperor glance at the Empress.
A tired sigh escaped both of them almost at the same time.
They had expected complications.
Something always went wrong eventually.
But not this.
Not like this.
One child had awakened an affinity to fire with powerful mana reserves.
Another had revealed herself as a rare dual-element wielder.
And the third—
had no magic at all.
In a world ruled by strength, the implications were obvious.
No one understood that better than the two people sitting on those thrones.
For now, the world was quiet.
A temporary stillness.
But peace never lasted forever.
Eventually, something would shatter it.
And when that happened, only strength earned respect.
Without it, a person was treated exactly as they were worth.
A disposable tool.
"We will need to send word to King Tem," the Empress said at last, her voice calm and soft.
"The marriage arrangement between Prince Aluric and Princess Flay must be annulled. We will offer another prince in his place."
Like any royal house worth its gold and paranoia, the Empire maintained alliances through carefully arranged marriages.
Political affection was far cheaper than war.
Usually.
The Emperor looked at her, then lowered his gaze toward the imperial crest lying abandoned on the stone floor.
The one he had torn from Aluric's clothing himself.
A headache was already forming behind his eyes.
The response from the Kingdom of Tem would not be pleasant.
Breaking a marriage arrangement was irritating enough.
Offering a replacement prince afterward was the kind of diplomatic problem that aged people prematurely.
At least there was one small mercy.
Neither Aluric nor Flay had ever met.
No attachments.
No sentiment.
No unnecessary complications born from inconvenient emotions.
"And who exactly do you suggest as a replacement?" the Emperor asked, genuine interest slipping into his otherwise tired voice.
"Of our unmarried sons, only Alain, Mern, and Nreu remain available."
He leaned back slightly.
"We would need to determine whether the Kingdom of Tem is willing to wait for Alain or Mern to come of age…"
A pause.
"Or explain Nreu's temperament to them."
That, if anything, sounded more dangerous.
The Empress fell quiet, considering the options.
Alain and Mern were both only fifteen.
Their magical talents had yet to awaken, which made them uncertain investments from a diplomatic perspective.
The Kingdom of Tem might not appreciate that.
Nreu, on the other hand, had already completed his assessment and demonstrated remarkable potential.
On paper, he was the obvious choice.
In reality?
Less appealing.
As many believed, magical affinity often reflected certain aspects of temperament.
Fire users were often impulsive, domineering, ambitious.
Wind aligned with calm minds, though they could become wildly unpredictable with frightening speed.
Water users were patient and composed—but when pushed too far, devastating.
Earth users, often seen as the stabilizing force among elements, were steady, harsh, and unyielding.
Nreu was every unpleasant stereotype of fire made flesh.
Proud.
Aggressive.
Difficult.
He rarely compromised and had a deeply irritating habit of doing exactly what he wanted rather than what others expected of him.
"We will offer both possibilities and allow them to choose," the Empress finally decided.
"We can host a banquet after the academy's first half-year concludes."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.
"Then we will see whom they prefer for themselves."
She paused before continuing, her tone flattening further.
"As for Aluric—he is forbidden from returning to the Empire until he completes his studies."
Not a hint of hesitation.
"We cannot use him as a prince."
Another beat.
"Nor as a political husband."
Her voice remained utterly practical.
"He is of no use to us."
The words were delivered with the detached clarity of someone discussing misplaced furniture.
"If, after graduation, he has no wish to return…"
She gave a slight shrug.
"So be it."
The Emperor nodded slowly in agreement, already considering how best to manage the inevitable fallout.
News of Aluric's lack of magical talent would spread quickly.
Like wildfire.
Fortunately, very few foreign representatives had ever seen him in person.
That reduced at least one potential inconvenience.
"I will send a formal message to the Kingdom of Tem," the Emperor concluded.
"The engagement arrangement between Aluric and Flay will be dissolved, and both replacement options will be presented at the New Year banquet in six months."
A simple solution.
Or at least the closest thing politics ever offered.
The Empress gave a quiet nod.
Then rose from her throne and made her way toward the exit.