The council chamber was bathed in a cold, almost sacred light. The advisors were already seated, their serious gazes fixed on the figure who had just entered.
Morena moved forward with a confident step.
Draped in her royal robes, the queen of wizards raised her chin, her gaze hard but shining with suppressed emotion.
A murmur ran through the room.
"Queen Morena," declared the Grand Councilor.
— You have summoned this extraordinary Council. For what reason?
Morena took a deep breath.
Then, in a clear voice, sharp as a blade:
— I demand justice.
(A silence.)
—I accuse the vampire prince Alastor of raping me.
The shock was immediate.
Some councilors stood up abruptly.
Others put their hands to their mouths.
A murmur of indignation, anger and disbelief ran through the assembly.
—It's…impossible…
— Such an act against a queen?!
—The son of King Astarion?!
- Silence ! thundered an ancient advisor.
—Queen Morena, such a serious accusation.
"Do you have any proof?" asked an advisor, Lysandre of Valoria, known for her impartiality, dryly.
Morena gave a sad… almost victorious smile.
- Of course.
She raised her hand.
Dark magic rippled around his fingers.
A memory projection materialized in the center of the room: a broken, blurry, but explicit image.
The council room.
Screams.
A recognizable male figure — dark hair, red eyes glowing in the shadows.
Then Morena, on the table, trembling, her body scarred.
A counselor looked away.
— By the Ancients…
—The council cannot ignore this.
— An irrefutable act.
Anger rose.
—It's a shame!
—An inter-clan crime!
—We must punish Alastor!
Morena felt her heart lighten.
They believed her.
They were going to avenge her.
"I demand that this matter be treated as an inter-clan conflict," she declared with emotion.
— So that justice may be done to me.
— This will lead to retaliation...
— But we cannot let this go unpunished...
"We are going to summon the other clans," concluded the Grand Councilor.
—And make the vampire prince pay.
Morena closed her eyes, a smile of relief on her lips.
Then—
—You're not going to do anything.
The voice echoed in the room like a clap of thunder.
Everyone turned around.
At the entrance stood Asher.
Right.
Calm.
Implacable.
A horrified silence fell over the Council.
—Sir Asher?! exclaimed an advisor.
—What are you doing here?
Asher moved forward slowly.
—Who am I? he asked coldly.
"You are a sir of the royal line," replied a member of the Council.
Asher tilted his head slightly.
"So do I need permission to be here?"
— Of course not...
Morena stood up abruptly.
— Asher!
—Alastor hurt me! He humiliated me! He must pay!
—As queen—
— There, I'll stop you.
His voice cut hers off sharply.
—If you want to settle this matter, do it alone.
—But don't drag the kingdom down with you.
Morena frowned.
—What does that mean?
Asher stared at her.
—That means you are no longer queen.
A cold breath ran through the room.
"From now on, I'll take your place," he continued.
— I will ensure the regency until the true heir ascends the throne.
Morena stepped back.
— You… you mean…
— Yes. You understood perfectly.