The envoy arrived on the seventh morning.
Not early.
Not late.
Exactly on time—like a man who believed the world still respected schedules.
From the upper balcony, King Aldric watched the procession enter Aurelion. Polished armor. Foreign banners. Wagons heavy with "gifts" meant to look generous rather than strategic.
The banner of Veyr fluttered calmly in the morning wind.
Aldric rested his hand against the stone railing. His chest gave a faint, familiar ache.
Confident, he thought. That always made things easier.
Confident men often missed traps.
The envoy introduced himself with a smile that had ended negotiations before they began.
"Lord Caedryn of Veyr," he said, bowing with elegant precision. "I bring warm greetings from my king—and hopes for mutual stability."
"Warm," Aldric replied mildly. "How considerate."
The council chamber was full of people with different intentions.
Marquis Tolen looked relieved, like some heavy weight was removed from his chest.
Duke Haveron looked bored and uninterested.
Count Velis looked interested in the wrong way.
Queen Lysenne sat beside the throne, composed, observing everything going on in silence.
Caedryn clasped his hands. "Recent trade disruptions have caused… concern. Grain delays. The rising prices have gotten out of control, which has made merchants nervous."
"Such a tragedy," Aldric agreed.
"Which is why," Caedryn continued smoothly, "Veyr is prepared to assist.
Escorts, storage guarantees, and advance purchases—at favorable rates."
The word favorable landed exactly where it was meant to.
The council leaned in, very much interested in the conversation, as if the word was more important than the tragedy of the kingdom.
Aldric did not move.
"But such cooperation," Caedryn added, glancing politely at the council, "requires clarity. A single authority to coordinate distribution."
Count Velis smiled. "The council has already assumed temporary authority."
Caedryn's smile widened.
"Excellent."
For the first time, Aldric spoke directly to the envoy.
"Do proceed," he said.
The negotiations lasted hours.
Numbers flowed. Concessions stacked.
Dependencies disguised themselves as solutions.
Caedryn guided the council expertly—never pushing, never rushing. By the end, parchment lay signed and sealed.
From the outside, it looked like victory. Outside only.
Caedryn bowed. "A pleasure, Your Majesty. I trust this partnership will bring stability."
"I'm sure it will," Aldric replied.
Caedryn paused.
Just long enough to notice something was wrong.
Aldric rose.
"Captain Rovan Hale," he said calmly.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Seal the western granaries."
The room froze hearing such an unexpected order.
Count Velis turned around and spoke sharply. "Your Majesty?"
"Invoke Crown Reserve Clause Nine," Aldric continued.
Marquis Tolen's face drained of color. "That clause hasn't been used in—"
"—eighty-three years," Aldric finished. "I know."
Lysenne stood beside him, already composed, already prepared.
"You can't," Velis said carefully. "Distribution authority was granted to the council."
"And reclaimed," Aldric replied. "Just now."
He placed a document on the table.
"Last night," he continued, "three council-approved shipments were delayed. One was diverted."
He looked directly at Tolen.
"Under your seal."
Tolen opened his mouth wanting to say something to refute,
But nothing came out.
"The authority was conditional," Aldric said evenly. "On stabilization."
He gestured once.
"Captain."
Rovan bowed. "The clerks responsible have already been detained. Quietly."
Shock rippled through the chamber.
Caedryn's smile vanished.
"You planned this," Count Velis whispered.
Aldric shook his head.
"No," he said. "I remembered it."
He tapped the map.
"In the famine of the Second Cycle, Veyr used this exact strategy. Quietly manipulate grain supply inside Aurelion. Create controlled scarcity. Let prices rise.
His gaze lifted—cold now.
"You won because the king back then panicked."
He straightened. His voice full of confidence.
"I don't."
By evening, the city changed.
Grain prices stabilized.
Shipments resumed—under crown seal.
Foreign escorts were dismissed with polite smiles.
In the western embassy, Lord Caedryn read the revised terms.
Once.
Twice.
Then he laughed—short, sharp, disbelieving.
"This… is impossible."
The agreements he signed were void.
The leverage he expected never arrived.
The authority he trusted had collapsed beneath him.
Slowly, painfully, understanding dawned.
They hadn't been negotiating.
They had been tested, tested by the king.
That night, Aldric stood alone again.
His body was tired.
His chest still ached.
But his mind was exceptionally clear.
"One kingdom down," he murmured. "And they still thought this was a negotiation."
Outside, Aurelion breathed easier.
Inside the palace, the council understood something new.
And far to the west, Veyr realized the truth—
They hadn't lost a negotiation.
They had walked into a king who already knew the ending.