Murmurs rippled through the hall as people turned to one another, their eyes darting about as they tried to read the atmosphere.

  “What could the Emperor possibly be thinking? I have never witnessed an emperor make a proposal himself,” a noble at the quiet end of the hall whispered to his longtime acquaintance.

  “I am not sure, but he would never let himself be placed at a disadvantage. He must have foreseen some benefit, otherwise he would not act,” replied the other noble, lowering his voice.

  The murmurs grew louder as people wondered aloud why the Emperor would propose in person. Some whispered that he could have easily sent envoys or knights, but instead, he had chosen to deliver the proposal himself.

  Others began to form their own theories, but none dared to speak them for fear of incurring the Emperor’s wrath.

  The Emperor stayed in his position and looked straight into the eyes of Shane Drakethorne.

  The Emperor remained motionless, his posture resolute. He heard the scattered voices echoing through the hall, but paid them no heed. In his mind, these were merely his vassals. They would not dare overstep their boundaries, and if they did, his knights would respond without hesitation.

  Shock flickered across Shane’s face. He searched the Emperor’s expression for any hint of meaning, but the Emperor’s eyes were so dark they seemed to swallow the light. Although Shane had recently been promoted to paragon rank and felt less pressure than before, the weight of the Emperor’s power was unmistakable. If the Emperor wished it, Shane felt, a single step from him could bring the entire hall crashing down.

  Sensing the tension mounting between his son and the Emperor, Ragnar stepped forward and met the Emperor’s gaze. “Your Majesty, I am eager to hear your proposal. However, since the banquet is delayed, might we discuss it privately at a later time?” He cast a meaningful glance at the crowd, making it clear the audience was too large for such matters.

  “You are right, Ragnar, but this will not take long. What I have to say will benefit your house, especially your grandson,” the Emperor declared, making no effort to acknowledge the watching crowd.

  “Then please, Your Majesty, tell me what benefit this proposal offers to my house and my grandson,” Ragnar replied, fixing the Emperor with a steady gaze. His tone left no doubt that he wanted no unnecessary political entanglements for his family, least of all for his grandson.

  “This very morning, I was blessed with a daughter. Ragnar, I wish for her to be betrothed to your grandson,” Emperor James Evernight announced, his voice carrying clearly across the hall.

  By now, the murmurs had faded entirely. Silence fell over the hall, so complete it was as though everyone had just heard something beyond belief.

  The Emperor himself was making a proposal concerning his own daughter. Everyone knew how fiercely protective he was of his children, especially after the death of his eldest son at the hands of demons. People remembered the day the Emperor had personally led the charge, slaying dozens of demons and even venturing into their territory to punish those responsible for his son’s death.

  Unable to remain silent, Sera stepped forward to face the Emperor. Meeting his gaze, she said, “Your Majesty, surely you have heard the legends about our son and wish to secure his loyalty for the imperial family. But I cannot allow this marriage proposal to be settled without our son’s consent. He is only a week old.”

  Her voice trembled with barely contained anger, though she chose her words carefully to avoid crossing the line.

  The murmurs resumed as guests exchanged startled glances. Many wondered, whispering amongst themselves, how a matriarch dared speak to the Emperor so directly.

  The Emperor raised his hand, the gesture subtle yet unmistakable. Conversations quickly ceased as everyone recognized his command for silence.

  From his dimensional space, the emperor took out a scroll. It looked ancient. Its appearance showed it had been kept very safely.

  The Emperor grasped one end of the scroll and let it unfurl, turning its front toward the Drakethorne family, who stood watching from the terrace.

  Sera, Shane, and Ragnar immediately recognized the scroll’s contents. They were stunned to see the Drakethorne emblem sealing the document, alongside the signature of the family’s legendary patriarch. He had been a renowned warrior, having defeated countless gates and demons, and was the most loyal retainer of the first Emperor of the Evernight Empire.

  The scroll declared that should the Evernight family ever require anything in the future, and the Drakethorne family could provide it, they would do so, even at the cost of their own lives.

  —

  I, Kael Drakethorne, founder of the Drakethorne family, promise that my family will lay down our lives to provide whatever the Evernight family wants, as long as it is within our means. This promise becomes void afterwards.

  Kael Drakethorne, Emblem of Drakethorne, Black dragon spreading its wings long across the sky.

  —

  The Drakethorne family was stunned to see the Emperor invoke this ancient promise to arrange the marriage. Every Drakethorne patriarch had been told of it when the previous head stepped down and the new one assumed leadership.

  Those near the front of the hall could read what was written on the scroll. With the Emperor standing in the center, about half the guests had a clear view.

  As news of the promise spread throughout the hall, everyone grasped the magnitude of the commitment in the scroll. They had not expected that the Drakethorne founder would make such a promise, though the clause specified its limits, preventing its misuse by the Evernight family.

  “So, you intend to use this? How far you have fallen, Your Majesty.” A thunderous, venom-laced voice echoed through the hall.

  The voice came from the entrance of the hall. It belonged to none other than the former matriarch of Drakethorne, Nyra Blackheart.