CHAPTER 277: THE EMPRESS’S WORDS

The opulent silence of Elreth’s borrowed chambers in the Leclair estate felt heavy, a stark contrast to the boisterous energy of the beach and the explosive thrill of her spar with Nero. The memory of his lightning, the shared exhilaration as they fought to their heart’s content, and the crushing weight of her father’s command, still greatly troubling her.

She felt adrift, a pawn in a game whose rules had suddenly changed. With a trembling hand, she activated a different, more personal communication seal—one that bore the gentle, flowing emblem of her mother’s house.

The screen shimmered to life, not revealing a throne room of intimidating power, but a sun-drenched solarium filled with vibrant, blooming flowers. And there, seated among them, was Empress Seren Samael. She was a vision of mature grace, her hair a cascade of deep, burnished red, her eyes the color of summer leaves, holding a warmth her husband’s burning orbs lacked. She was the heart of the Samael family, a counterpoint to Solomon’s unyielding fire.

"My little flame," Seren said, her voice a soothing melody that immediately tightened Elreth’s throat with emotion. "Your father’s news reached me. I have been waiting for you."

Tears, hot and shameful, welled in Elreth’s eyes. The proud, fiery and arrogant princess crumbled before her mother’s gentle gaze.

The words tumbled out in a rushed, anguished torrent. She spoke of Nero—not as a strategic asset, but as the boy who had faced her fire with his own, the boy who wouldn’t yield, whose impossible power had both infuriated and captivated her. She confessed her jealousy of Khione, not just for having his affection, but for the simple, uncomplicated certainty of it.

"And now Father..." Elreth’s voice broke. "He commands me to... to seduce him. To win his heart and bear his child like... like a broodmare for a prized stallion! He didn’t even ask. He ordered me. As if my feelings, my own heart, are irrelevant!"

Seren listened, her expression one of deep empathy and sorrow. She did not interrupt, allowing her daughter to purge the poison of her humiliation.

"Oh, my darling girl," Seren sighed when Elreth finally fell silent, her shoulders shaking.

"Your father... he sees the world as a chessboard. People are pieces to be moved, assets to be acquired. He sees this boy’s power and thinks only of the dynasty, of a legacy that could eclipse all others. He does not understand the heart."

"What do I do, Mother?" Elreth whispered, feeling like a lost child. "I hate this! I hate being ordered. I hate feeling like this!"

"Look at me, Elreth," Seren commanded softly. Elreth raised her tear-streaked face.

"Do not confuse your father’s command with your own desires. Strip away his order. What do you feel for this Nero?"

Elreth was silent for a long time, her mother’s green eyes holding her own.

"I... I don’t know," she admitted, her voice small. She truly didn’t know how she truly felt.

"He infuriates me. He challenges me. When we fought, it was the most alive I’ve ever felt. And seeing him with her... it burns me in a way I don’t understand."

"That sounds a great deal like the beginning of something real, my love," Seren said with a small, knowing smile. "Not a command from an Emperor, but the confusing, messy, and beautiful stirrings of a young woman’s heart. Your father has simply tried to put a name to it and claim it for his own."

"But what do I do?" Elreth pleaded.

"You must decide what you want," her mother said firmly. "Do not do this for your father. If you pursue this boy, do it for yourself. If your heart truly desires him, then fight for him. Not as a subject for an Emperor, but as a woman for the man she wants. Show him the fire and passion that is the truest part of you, not some calculated performance. A man of his spirit would see through such a deception in an instant."

"And if I fail? If he chooses her?"

"Then you will have the dignity of having fought for what you wanted, for yourself," Seren said, her voice filled with conviction.

"That is a victory in itself. It is far better than the hollow victory of following an order that grates against your soul. Your worth, Elreth Samael, is not measured by your ability to secure a powerful bloodline. It is measured by the strength of your own spirit."

The words were like a balm, washing away the grime of her father’s transactional decree. The shame and humiliation began to recede, replaced by a flicker of her old, defiant fire.

"Your father will expect results," Seren cautioned. "You must be clever. Play his game, but by your own rules. Let him think you are following his command. But in your heart, know the truth. You are not a pawn. You are my daughter. You are a princess of fire. And if you choose to love, you will do it on your own terms."

They spoke for a long time after that, the conversation shifting from the heavy to the light. They spoke of court gossip, of new fashions, of memories from Elreth’s childhood. It was a lifeline to normalcy, a reminder of who she was beyond this political maelstrom.

When the connection finally faded, Elreth sat in the quiet of her room, no longer adrift. The path ahead was still fraught with difficulty, but the confusion was gone. Her mother had not given her a simple answer, but she had given her something far more valuable: clarity. She would not be her father’s puppet. She would be the master of her own heart. And if she decided she wanted Nero Adams, it would be for herself, and she would fight for him with everything she had, not as a subject of an empire, but as his equal. A slow, determined smile touched her lips. The game was far from over, but she finally felt like she held her own pieces.

"I will fight you head on, Khione and you know I hate losing so you’re in for a tough fight."