Chapter: The Obsidian Welcome
The fortress gleamed under the evening glow, its obsidian walls reflecting the light of a thousand lanterns. The grand hall had been transformed into a tableau of imperial power for the homecoming banquet. Stained glass windows cast fragmented moonlight upon the vaulted ceilings, and banners bearing the new imperial sigil—a three-legged wolf beneath a golden sun—draped the walls.
At the center of it all, Luciana stood beside Erebus. She wore deep ivory silk embroidered with obsidian, gold, and silver threads, phoenixes woven subtly into the hem. The pigeon-blood rubies and black diamonds in her hairpiece—Erebus's private gift—caught the light like captured stars.
As the evening progressed, a line of nobles, commanders, and envoys approached to offer their formal greetings.
"Your Imperial Highness," said Lord Varos, a territorial governor from the southern frontiers, his bow perfectly measured. "Your reputation for diplomatic acumen is well-known, even in our distant provinces. To witness your grace in person is an honor."
"You are too kind, Lord Varos," Luciana replied, her tone a blend of warmth and regal distance. "I look forward to learning more of your province's contributions to the empire's stability."
No sooner had he stepped aside than Commander Kael, a fierce warrior with scars mapping his face, approached. "Empress," he said, his voice gravelly but respectful. "The men have heard tales of your courage during the treaty negotiations. It is good to finally have you within our secured walls."
"The security of these walls is a testament to your service, Commander," Luciana answered. "I am glad to be here."
The next noble, a younger man with overly polished manners, bowed too deeply. "They spoke of Amanécer's beauty, but the reality is… breathtaking. Our halls have been too long without such light."
Erebus's hand, resting on the pommel of his ceremonial dagger, flexed subtly. His expression remained impassive, but his demonic black eyes tracked the man with the stillness of a predator.
Luciana's smile did not reach her eyes. "The light you admire, Lord Dravin, is but a reflection of the empire's newfound strength. It is the people, and their loyalty, that truly illuminate a realm."
As the noble retreated, Erebus leaned infinitesimally closer, his voice a low murmur only for her. "His flattery is as transparent as glass. And just as sharp-edged."
"All flattery is a tool," she murmured back, her gaze sweeping the hall. "One simply must know who is wielding it, and to what end."
Near the hall's edge, Mina cradled a sleeping Ra'el, with Lilith standing guard. Hades clung to Mina's skirts, his wide eyes observing the glittering spectacle.
"It's very loud," Hades whispered to Mina.
"It is the sound of a secure empire, young prince," Mina whispered back, adjusting her hold on Ra'el. "You will grow accustomed to it."
Not far away, Nemesis was trying to teach a solemn-looking boy the rules of a game he'd just invented involving strategically dropped pastry crumbs.
"You see, Cyrus, if the crumb lands here, the shadow from that banner makes it a fortress!"
Cyrus, Lilith's son, nodded with serious intensity. "Understood, Prince Nemesis. But what if a servant sweeps it?"
"Then the fortress is under siege! Obviously."
Calypso, poised at Luciana's flank in her new role as lady-in-waiting, leaned in. "Lord Theron approaches from the eastern trade consortium, Your Highness. He is pragmatic, but his loyalty is tied to profit. Acknowledge his recent infrastructure projects."
Luciana gave a nearly imperceptible nod as the lord arrived.
"Your Highness," Lord Theron said, his assessing gaze missing nothing. "Your arrival coincides with a most prosperous quarter. A favorable omen for commerce."
"Commerce thrives under peace and strong governance, Lord Theron," Luciana replied. "I understand your guilds have perfected the reinforced stone for the new coastal roads. Engineering that benefits the military and the merchant caravans alike is a model for the empire."
A flicker of genuine surprise, then respect, passed over Theron's features. "You are well-informed, Empress. It is… encouraging."
The formalities stretched on until the moon was high. Finally, the last guest departed, and the great doors of the hall closed, leaving a ringing silence in their wake.
In the vast, quiet solitude of their private quarters, Luciana let out a slow breath, the weight of the performance finally slipping from her shoulders. The room was a masterpiece of polished obsidian and warm amber light.
Erebus entered behind her, the heavy door closing with a soft finality. He shed his ceremonial overcoat, the movement efficient and tired.
"They looked at you," he began, his voice low and stripped of its public cadence, "as if they'd never seen a queen who could both grace a hall and dissect a treaty."
She unpinned her hairpiece, setting the rubies and diamonds carefully on a table. "They looked at a symbol. The Phoenix Crown of Amanécer, now wedded to the Wolf of Krovzaryan. It will take time for them to see the woman."
"I should have slit their throats for the way some of them stared," he muttered, pouring two glasses of water.
Luciana turned, arching a brow. "And ruin your own banquet over the leering of foolish nobles? Surely that is not befitting of an emperor." Her tone held a familiar, chiding warmth.
Erebus paused, then let out a short, conceding breath. "You are right. Forgive me. The language… and the impulse."
The apology, still rare enough to be noteworthy, hung between them. She accepted it with a slight nod, taking the glass he offered.
Her gaze traveled around the chamber, over the veined stone and the intricate carvings. "This room… it's where you first brought me. Where everything began. I remember it feeling… austere. A stronghold. Now…" She gestured softly. "It is formidable. And it has a beauty to it. A severe, powerful beauty."
Erebus watched her, his expression unguarded in the privacy. "It had to be formidable. I will not raise our children in a realm defined by weakness and scarcity again." He stepped closer. "Every paved road, every reinforced wall, every guarded garden—it is all for them. For their security. For their future. For you."
Luciana's composed facade softened, revealing the weary mother beneath. "Their future here will be so different. In Amanécer, no matter how careful I was, the whispers were a constant shadow. Nemesis's wings, though he is of pure blood. Hades's eyes. Ra'el's quiet nature… They were seen as deviations. Flaws to be tolerated, not strengths to be celebrated."
A shadow passed over Erebus's face, his jaw tightening. "Here," he stated, the word absolute, "they will never be shamed for their blood. Not while I draw breath. In this empire, they are not half-breeds or curiosities. They are heirs. My blood. Your legacy. They will be respected. And if respect is not freely given, they will be feared. The choice will belong to others."
"The people today," Luciana mused, setting her glass down. "They were cautious, yes. Assessing. But I saw no hatred. No pity. When they looked at the children, it was with… curiosity, perhaps. But also recognition. As if they simply… belonged."
"They do belong," Erebus said, his voice dropping. He reached out, his hand settling firmly on her waist, drawing her nearer. "And so do you."
She met his gaze, her jewelled eyes clear and earnest. "I cannot erase Amanécer from my soul overnight. Nor would I want to. But I can learn to belong here, truly belong, if this empire can come to see me as more than a political concession—more than your bargaining piece."
His other hand came up to cradle her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. "They will follow you," he said, with a conviction that brooked no argument. "Not because my command forces their obedience, but because your actions will earn their loyalty. You will show them a strength that is not born of the sword alone. You will give them something to believe in."
He paused, the silence heavy with the weight of his next words. "I need you here, Luciana. Not just as an empress in title, or a mother to our heirs. I need you beside me. In every council, in every hall, in this room. Every day."
Luciana placed her hand over his, where it rested against her face. She felt the steady, strong beat of his heart through the simple contact. "I believe you," she whispered, the words quiet but solid, a vow in their own right.
A profound stillness settled over Erebus. He had schemed, conquered, and rebuilt an empire to hear those words, offered freely. His arm slid around her, anchoring her firmly against him, his forehead gently touching hers.
"Then stay," he murmured, the command now a request, layered with a vulnerability he showed to no one else.
"I am not going anywhere," she answered, her breath mingling with his.