Adan kept his head bowed, lips pressed tight, refusing to speak. Idris Haidi was seized soon after, dragged struggling into custody.
"Adan Osvaldo conspired in treason with Sir Whir," the emperor declared, his voice carrying through the chamber like a tolling bell. "Cast him into the prison."
Guards closed in at once. Adan was wrenched to his feet, his dagger already stripped away. With no family to shield him, his officers—isolated in another courtyard under heavy watch—could do nothing. He was led out in chains, the echoes of his footsteps swallowed by the hall's silence.
"Now that the rebels are dealt with," the emperor said, his composure unbroken, "let the coronation proceed."
The court priests raised their voices again, resuming the sacred rites. The air stilled as Conall stepped forward, kneeling before the throne. In solemn silence, the emperor lifted the crown and set it upon his brow.
"From this day forth, I name Conall Arlo as crown prince and heir to the throne."
The hall erupted into thunderous applause. Fear gave way to celebration, and the chamber that had moments before bristled with tension now shimmered with relief and festivity.
The emperor raised his hand once more, quieting the hall. "Before we proceed further, one more decree: Abiri Arlo, whose courage and loyalty proved decisive in uncovering and subduing this rebellion, shall be appointed Head of the Royal Guard. Also, I order Abiri Arlo to investigate the rebellion."
Abiri dropped to one knee, bowing deeply. "I accept the order, Your Majesty."
The day's events left the court reeling. Shock lingered beneath the surface, even as the palace prepared for its evening banquet. The hall shimmered with light and laughter, but the air was thick with unspoken questions. Every toast, every polite smile, hid curiosity and unease. Whispers darted between tables like sparks—how much had the emperor known? How had the rebellion been uncovered?
Though the emperor publicly commended Abiri Arlo for exposing the rebellion, he offered no further details. Curiosity rippled through the hall. Some nobles were openly skeptical; others masked their envy behind polite smiles. The idea of a young princess commanding the Royal Guard unsettled many—but none dared to question the emperor's judgment aloud. One thing became clear to all: the Arlo family was far more formidable than they appeared. From that night on, every courtier watched them with sharpened attention.
Aziza learned the truth in fragments. Between hushed conversations and careful pauses, she pieced together the rebellion that had unfolded before the coronation. But there were still gaps—too many of them. Conall and Abiri had chosen not to tell her about it.
At first, Aziza was angry —why had they kept her in the dark? Yet as she watched them across the hall—Conall with the new crown's weight settling on his shoulders, Abiri surrounded by officers pledging loyalty—her anger softened. She understood then that it wasn't mistrust. It was protection. The kind that came not from secrecy, but from love. And for the first time that night, as the laughter and music swelled around her, Aziza felt the faint ache of what power truly cost.
The days that followed were relentless. Abiri and Baoz scarcely rested, hunting down the last remnants of the rebellion and purging traitors from the Royal Guard.
One morning, a guard approached her in the courtyard, breathless.
"Your Highness—Idris Haidi is dead. He hanged himself with his blanket in the prison."
Abiri's eyes narrowed. "Show me."
She inspected the cell herself, the air inside heavy with the stench of iron and mildew. A coroner was summoned, and after a thorough examination, he confirmed the death was a suicide. But something about it didn't sit right with her. It seemed too familiar to Sir Whir's death.
"How could you let this happen?" she demanded, turning on the jailor. "He was under your watch!"
The man stammered, sweat rolling down his temples. "Forgive me, Your Highness—I…I don't know how—"
"Has anyone visited him before his death?" she interrupted.
"No, Your Highness," he said quickly. Behind him, two guards exchanged a nervous glance before lowering their eyes. Abiri noticed immediately.
"You two," she said sharply. "Speak. Now."
The guards dropped to their knees. "Your Highness—the men who were on duty that night… they've disappeared."
Abiri's expression hardened. Before she could respond, the jailor collapsed to his knees as well. "They must have fled, Your Highness! Fearing punishment after the prisoner's death—it has nothing to do with me, I swear!"
"I will decide what it has to do with," she snapped. "You failed in your duty and concealed the truth to protect yourself. You are suspended for six months—without pay."
The jailor bowed his head in shame. Abiri turned away, her mind already racing. Something was wrong—she could feel it. Idris's death was too convenient, too clean. But without proof, suspicion was all she had.
"Rya," she called to her aide. "Trace Idris's movements before his arrest. Find out where he got the poison—and who helped him."
While Abiri pursued the truth, Emperor Egon Cree turned his attention to the rebellion's ringleader.
Adan Osvaldo was chained to a wall when Egon entered the dungeon, flanked by Conall and Abiri. The torches flickered, throwing jagged shadows across the stone. Adan lifted his head slowly, a twisted smile curving his bruised lips.
"So," he rasped, "you must be Abiri Arlo. Tell me—how did you uncover my plan? There were no leaks. None." He spoke to her alone, his eyes ignoring both the emperor and the crown prince.
"We'll be asking the questions here," Abiri said coolly, taking her place behind Egon and Conall as they sat across from him.
"Adan," the emperor said at last, his voice steady but heavy with disappointment, "We have known each other many years. I never thought you capable of this. Was it greed for power? Since when did you covet my throne?"
Adan's laughter cracked through the cell like broken glass. "Your throne?" he spat. "I never wanted your throne. I wanted your head! I planned to kill you and then myself. You—" he leaned forward against his chains, eyes wild— "you don't even know what you did, do you?"