Lord of Deception

The Empress's chambers still carried the remnants of the night before—the scent of wine, silk sheets tangled in disarray, the echo of whispered power plays. Selene stirred beside Kael, her violet eyes opening to find him already awake, already thinking.

He sat at the edge of the bed, shirtless, the glow of dawn casting sharp shadows across his back. He was a conqueror, but unlike the kings she had known, his victories were silent. No fanfare, no crowns. Just control.

"You don't sleep," she murmured, stretching beneath the sheets.

Kael glanced at her over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Not when there's an empire to seize."

Selene propped herself up on one elbow, watching him. The weight of what they had done, of what she had chosen, settled in. There was no going back. She had given herself to the most dangerous man in the Empire—not just in body, but in allegiance.

"Castiel will make his move soon," she said.

Kael nodded. "And when he does, he'll think he's still ahead." He turned to her fully, his gaze sharp. "You need to act as if nothing has changed. He cannot suspect your loyalty has shifted."

Selene exhaled, her mind already weaving the next steps. She had played the Imperial Court like a grand chessboard for years. But this? This was a far greater game.

"And what of Seraphina?" she asked.

Kael leaned back, running a hand through his dark hair. "She believes she can use me. That makes her useful. For now."

Selene smirked. "And when she's no longer useful?"

Kael's expression remained unreadable. "Then she'll serve another purpose."

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Selene barely had time to slip into her silk robe before one of her trusted handmaidens entered, bowing low. "Your Majesty, His Imperial Highness requests your presence in the throne room immediately."

Selene exchanged a glance with Kael.

It had begun.

The throne room of the Imperial Palace was designed to intimidate—towering black marble columns, golden banners emblazoned with the Imperial crest, and a throne carved from obsidian. Emperor Castiel sat upon it, every inch the ruler, his golden eyes gleaming with quiet calculation.

At his side, Lucian knelt.

The sight of him was jarring. The once-proud Hero of the Empire, now clad in dark armor, his silver hair unkempt, his very presence exuding something unnatural. His gaze lifted, meeting Kael's across the vast chamber, and Kael instantly recognized it—the change.

Demon's Blood.

A slow smirk curled Kael's lips. So, Castiel had played his hand.

Selene stepped forward, her expression composed. "You summoned me, my Emperor?"

Castiel studied her for a moment before speaking. "I have been considering recent… events. The shifting tides of politics, the whispers of betrayal." His gaze flickered to Kael. "The ambitions of certain men."

Kael remained utterly still, allowing the Emperor to fill the silence with his own conclusions.

"And?" Selene prompted smoothly.

Castiel's lips curved into a faint smile. "And I have decided it is time to secure the Empire's future." He gestured toward Lucian. "Our hero has returned to serve his Emperor once more. With him at my side, we shall purge those who seek to undermine us."

Lucian's knuckles tightened against the stone floor. His new strength was palpable, his presence darker. He had taken the vial.

Kael met his gaze.

Good.

A pawn who believed himself a knight was the easiest piece to control.

"What do you think, Duke Arden?" Castiel asked, his tone deceptively casual.

Kael smiled, bowing slightly. "I think it is always wise to reinforce one's position, Your Majesty." His gaze flickered toward Lucian. "A loyal sword is a valuable thing."

Lucian's jaw clenched. He said nothing, but the hatred in his eyes was unmistakable.

Castiel chuckled. "Indeed. Loyalty is everything." His gaze shifted back to Selene. "Which is why I have decided to make an example of those who lack it."

The room tensed.

Kael remained unreadable, but his mind raced through possibilities. Who? Who does he suspect?

Castiel snapped his fingers.

The doors opened.

A man was dragged in—his robes tattered, his face bloodied.

Duke Reinhardt.

The powerful noble who had once dared to oppose the Emperor, who had been playing his own game behind the scenes.

Selene kept her expression impassive, but Kael knew she had been in contact with Reinhardt's faction. Castiel was moving quickly.

"Duke Reinhardt," Castiel mused, stepping down from his throne. "It seems your loyalties have been… questionable."

Reinhardt spat blood onto the marble floor. "You're a dead man walking, Castiel. The Empire is rotting, and you're too blind to see it."

The Emperor smiled. "Then allow me to correct my vision."

With a flick of his wrist, he nodded to Lucian.

The fallen Hero stepped forward, drawing a dark blade from his side. The air around it shimmered with unnatural energy.

Kael watched without emotion as Lucian raised the sword—hesitation flickering in his eyes for only a second. Then he swung.

Blood splattered across the pristine floor.

Reinhardt's body slumped, lifeless.

Castiel turned back to the court. "Let this be a warning. The Empire does not tolerate betrayal." His golden eyes landed on Kael. "Wouldn't you agree, Duke Arden?"

Kael inclined his head, his smirk barely concealed. "Of course, Your Majesty. Betrayal is such a… delicate thing."

Castiel's gaze lingered, searching for cracks. He would find none.

Because Kael had already moved beyond the Emperor's reach.

This was no longer Castiel's Empire.

It was his.

And soon, even the Emperor would realize it.

To be continued…