CHAPTER 265: FIRE BOWED TO HIM

Leroy and Lorraine descended the last few steps together, the glow of their mingled flames, gold and blue, casting long shadows across the ruined hall. The fire that had once devoured everything seemed to hesitate now, flickering lower, retreating as if shamed into silence.

The mansion that had been howling in agony only moments ago was now eerily quiet, save for the soft crackle of dying embers.

The soldiers stood frozen, their faces pale beneath the soot and ash. None dared move. The heat that had scorched the very air moments ago now felt cold against their skin. They watched in disbelief as the man and woman emerged unburnt from the heart of the inferno, hand in hand, regal and terrible in their calm.

One of them, braver or more foolish than the rest, lifted his sword. His hands trembled as he did, but he still obeyed the command that rang in his skull: Destroy everything. Bring the traitor and his wife to the palace.

But how could they destroy this? How could they capture someone who had walked through fire itself, untouched, defiant, and divine?

Even the soldier’s courage wilted. His sword slipped from his grasp, clattering to the scorched marble floor. The sound echoed through the grand hall like a bell tolling the end of an era.

"Tell that pretender draped in lion’s hide," Leroy said, his voice a calm rumble that filled the chamber, "I stand beyond his reach."

His tone carried not rage but truth. It wasn’t a boast; it was a declaration of order restored. The grand hall, stripped of all its gold and marble by flame, bowed before him in silence. His very presence reclaimed it.

Lorraine turned to him, her lips parting in quiet wonder. Her chest swelled with pride, her heart thundering as she looked at the man she loved. How many times had she watched him bow, endure humiliation, suppress the strength that now blazed so openly in his stance?

This... this was what she had always seen in him.

This was the king he was meant to be.

Leroy lifted his sword. A simple motion, yet the air shuddered. Lorraine felt the pressure ripple through her chest, through the walls, through the bones of the earth itself.

And then... The fire died.

It vanished in an instant, snuffed out like a child’s candle in the wind. Smoke curled where an inferno once raged. The hall fell utterly still.

Lorraine stared at her husband, awestruck. The one who had been scorned, hunted, humiliated, now stood as something greater. Something no man could command.

Her heart brimmed with pride, fierce and tender all at once.

Around them, the soldiers broke. One by one, their swords clattered to the floor, and they fled...

Fled from the man, fire itself had bowed to.

-----

In the corridor, the emperor stared at his hands, soaked in his mother’s blood. The red glistened under the torchlight, trembling along his fingers. Then his gaze snapped to Aralyn.

"Why did you do this?" His voice cracked, wild and uneven. "It’s your fault Mother died!"

Aralyn looked up, Isabella’s lifeless body still in her lap. There was a faint frown frozen on the late Dowager Empress’s face, as though death had come before she could have the one thing she wanted.

Now Aralyn understood. When Isabella told her to run, this, this bloodied madness, was what she’d meant.

"You killed her!" the emperor roared, his face contorting into fury. "Guards! This woman murdered the Dowager Empress!"

The soldiers rushed in, confused but obedient. Behind them, a few ministers who had witnessed everything stood frozen, pale with terror.

The emperor’s gaze turned sharp as a blade. "Lock the ministers in the audience hall," he ordered coldly. "I have something to discuss with them."

The great doors of the hall thundered shut.

Inside, the ministers looked at one another, with fear in their eyes, cowardice in their hearts. They knew what had happened. They had seen the truth. But they also saw the corpse of the Dowager Empress and the blood on her son’s hands.

They had two choices: Pretend none of this ever happened. Or die.

It was, as always, an easy choice.

None of them were martyrs. None was made of the stuff of legends. They had families, fortunes, and fragile lives to protect. The word principle meant little when survival was at stake.

So they bowed. One by one, they swore their loyalty to the emperor.

And as each man left the hall, the echo of their vows mingled with the faint scent of blood—thick, metallic, and inescapable.

-----

Lorraine stood amid the ruin and smoke, watching as the emperor’s soldiers fled like frightened dogs. The great hall, moments ago a blaze of chaos, was now eerily quiet, with only the crackle of dying embers remaining.

She moved among the survivors, checking for wounds, murmuring orders. Most of the servants had escaped thanks to the alarm bell, though some lay injured near the courtyard. The death toll was mercifully small—just a handful.

For an assault this brutal, that was a miracle. And yet... her heart sank.

They were innocent people. People who had been preparing breakfast, arranging flowers, laughing in the kitchens.

And now...gone. Just because they had served them.

"He’s not going to stop," she whispered, her voice trembling with a fury that felt colder than fire. Leroy must have made the soldiers retreat, and if she knew the Emperor, he would send a bigger army this time.

That was when Aldric walked in, soot-streaked and breathless.

"How did this happen?" Lorraine demanded. Her voice rose, breaking the heavy silence. "I stepped out for one night—one night—and my house is ashes!"

Aldric blinked, glancing at Leroy. Leroy exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, guilt flickering across his face.

The silence between the two men spoke volumes.

Aldric had known the emperor’s plan to drag Lorraine to court, expose her as Lazira, and humiliate her before the nobles.

Leroy had known another truth, that the emperor had discovered his claim to the Dravenholt bloodline.

Both had made plans.

Both had kept them secret.

And both had failed.

Now, as the smoke cleared, both men found themselves looking at Lorraine, the woman who could have seen through it all if they’d only gotten her involved. If they had told her, she would have mapped the emperor’s every move. She would have devised six counterplans and six more to protect the first six.

Lorraine always saw the patterns others missed.

And they had left her in the dark.

Their heads bowed, shame washing over them.

Lorraine didn’t notice their guilt. Her mind was moving again, darting from one thought to the next, rebuilding from the wreckage.

"Where is Sylvia?" she asked suddenly. "Is she safe? Why isn’t she with you?"

Aldric’s jaw tightened. His silence was answer enough.

Lorraine’s heart stopped. "Aldric..." she breathed. "Where is Sylvia?"

He looked away.