The council chamber doors closed with a heavy thud.
"Begin," King Alaric's voice rang out, flat and commanding.
Killian stood at the side of the long table, both hands braced against the back of a chair. Another emergency meeting had been called today. He had resolved to focus, yet lately, that girl's face kept intruding into his thoughts.
"The salt supply from Darius's war spoils will last for six months," the Treasurer reported. "That has calmed the people."
"Good."
Killian barely registered the King's response. Fragments of that drunken night clawed their way back into his mind.
Her touch. Her breath. Her lips.
That was not the act of an heir to the throne. That was weakness.
Damn it. I lost control.
Killian shifted restlessly where he stood. Josselyn's words, praising Darius, echoed faintly in his ears.
No. That kiss was punishment. She dared compare me to Darius.
One brow lifted slightly.
I am the Crown Prince. I am beyond comparison. She insulted my pride.
"But the cloth," a bald nobleman cut in, Duke Berric Halven, Advisor of Trade. "Our textile supply is running low. Winter arrives in two months."
Killian snapped back to the present, his gaze dropping to the table.
"We still have time," he said.
"Not as much as Your Highness thinks," the Head of Logistics replied. "Northern merchants are withholding shipments. They've raised prices."
"Because of the rumors in the palace," Duke Halven muttered. "Because of the insult."
Killian lifted his head. "Speak clearly."
"Because of that woman."
Silence fell.
Killian swept his gaze across the council members. Their eyes were uneasy, but their mouths stayed shut.
The King exhaled. "Stop circling the point."
"The Crown Prince humiliated one of the kingdom's pillars," Duke Halven continued. "Now other families are reconsidering their stance. Winter cloth is a symbol of status. Without thick cloaks, without fur-lined coats, how are we to attend banquets?"
"The people need warmth, not banquets," Killian cut in.
"The people follow the nobility," Halven shot back. "If we are unsettled, the market becomes unsettled."
Killian let out a low, sarcastic laugh. "So this is about pride?"
"This is about necessity," the Treasurer replied. "And about the Queen."
That name made Killian turn toward his father.
"The Queen's health is worsening," the King said quietly. "The healers advise keeping her chamber warm. Thick blankets, high-quality cloth, the finest furs."
Killian's hands clenched. He faced the council again.
"Everything will be provided," he said firmly.
"From where?" the Head of Logistics demanded. "The main warehouse can only cover general needs. Duke Mathias Corven is still blocking the southern routes…"
"…because he was offended," Duke Halven added with a faintly mocking tone, his gaze flicking toward Killian.
Killian drew a long breath. His head throbbed.
When will Josselyn visit the Queen again? I'll ask for another herbal potion. This meeting is unbearable.
An image flickered through his mind. Long brown hair, hazel eyes that met his without fear, a warm smile directed at the Queen.
"Crown Prince?" the King's voice sharpened.
Killian straightened instantly. "I'm listening."
"Are you?" the bald duke sneered. "Or are your thoughts occupied with your little alchemist?"
A chair scraped as Killian stood straighter. "Watch your words."
"What will you do?" the man did not back down. "Draw your sword again, like that night in the hall?"
"I defended a member of the palace."
"A member of the palace? That traitor's child?" The duke scoffed. "You chose to humiliate a valuable ducal family that has supported Valenroth's economy."
"He started it," Killian replied coldly.
The King struck the table lightly.
"Enough."
Silence returned.
The King studied Killian for a long moment. "This is not merely about pride. This is about the coming winter, and the people of Valenroth. And your mother."
Killian held his jaw steady. "I will not apologize."
Several council members exchanged glances.
"Crown Prince," the Treasurer tried more gently, "sometimes a single sentence can preserve the comfort of thousands."
"And sacrifice honor," Killian replied.
"This is not only about your honor," the Head of Logistics said. "It's about perception. If you would lower yourself slightly…"
"No."
One word. Firm.
Duke Halven smiled faintly. "Then hand the girl over to Duke Corven."
The room froze, colder than winter itself.
"Say that again," Killian's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
"Hand her over. Let her apologize personally. Or let her become the responsibility of the Corven family. They will withdraw their protest. The merchants will resume shipments."
"No."
"Crown Prince," the King warned.
"No," Killian repeated, louder. "She is not a bargaining piece."
"She is the source of the problem," Halven snapped. "Since she arrived, you've changed. You defy the council. You defy your father."
Killian gave a short laugh. "I defy stupidity."
Several members flinched.
The King rose slowly. "You have gone too far, Killian."
Killian turned to face him. "With all due respect, Father, this kingdom will not fall because of one woman."
"Kingdoms fall from small decisions left to grow unchecked," the King replied coldly. "You are too young to see that."
"And too old to bow to threats over cloth," Killian shot back.
The Treasurer spoke quickly. "This is not an empty threat. The northern nobles control the textile warehouses. If they cut access…"
"Find another supplier."
"Two months," the Head of Logistics exhaled. "We don't have time to establish new routes."
"Darius could…"
Killian stopped mid-sentence, hating the way his closest ally's name now felt like a rival.
Several heads turned.
The King narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Killian clenched his fists. "Darius's forces secured the eastern border. There's a trade route we can open."
"So now you'll rely on that knight?" Halven sneered. "Or do you simply refuse to lose the girl?"
Blood rushed in Killian's ears.
He hated this uncertainty inside him. No one had ever unsettled him like this before.
"Enough," the King said sharply. "I will not hear childish gossip in this chamber."
Killian inhaled sharply. "Then stop tying state matters to my personal affairs."
"Your personal affairs have become public," the King replied. "When an alchemist stands in the hall and humiliates a senior noble, it becomes politics."
"She only spoke the truth."
"And you defended her."
"Because she was not wrong."
"Because you cannot think clearly," Duke Halven cut in.
Killian took a step forward. "Careful."
"Or what?" the man smiled faintly. "Will you strike me down with your sword?"
The King fixed Killian with a gaze that had lost all patience. "Answer one question. Will you apologize for the sake of the kingdom's stability?"
Killian fell silent.
He could see it clearly. Josselyn standing alone in the hall. Cold stares. Whispering voices.
If he apologized, they would all see him as guilty.
If he handed her over, he might never escape the weight of that choice.
"No," he said at last.
The chamber erupted in sighs and murmurs.
The King closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with cold resolve. "Then, as a Crown Prince who has failed to place the kingdom above his pride, you will accept the consequences."
Killian did not blink. "I am ready."
"For seven days, you will be confined to your chamber. No audiences. No orders. No access to the council."
Several members looked startled. It was an unexpected decision.
Killian met his father's gaze. A flicker of disappointment showed in his eyes, but it was nothing compared to the sudden unrest rising in his chest.
Seven days without Josselyn?
Something tightened painfully inside him.
I don't want to touch her again, but that doesn't mean I want to stay away from her.
"Your Majesty," the Treasurer stepped forward, trying to intervene.
"Silence," the King cut him off. "Let him learn responsibility."
Killian let out a quiet laugh. "Locking me away won't produce more cloth."
"No," the King agreed. "But perhaps it will cool your head before winter arrives."
Duke Halven crossed his arms, a satisfied smile forming.
"A wise decision."
Killian turned toward him, about to respond, when a sudden idea surfaced.
"Father," Killian said, shifting his gaze back to the King. "I have one condition."
Halven scoffed. "What now? He should learn to accept the King's decision."
Killian shot him a sharp look that silenced him instantly.
The King exhaled. "Speak."
"If I am to be confined, then only one person will attend to my needs."
The room tensed.
"Josselyn."
If they want to turn her into a bargaining tool, then I will make her mine, right in front of them.