Chapter 183: Whispers of Famine

Words : 1696 Updated : Oct 5th, 2025

Chapter 183: Whispers of Famine [Elorian Empire—Capital City—Count Talvan’s Mansion] SLAP! The crack echoed like thunder, Eleania’s cheek flaring crimson. The maids froze, trembling, and Lady Sirella pressed a hand to her heart as though the weight of the moment might crush her. "You fool!" Count Talvan’s voice was venom. "Do you understand what you’ve done? Because of your recklessness, our plan has collapsed. The empire could have been thrown into chaos—and she would have been blamed! But you—You made her a victim." Eleania’s jaw trembled with rage, her hands curling into fists. "I... I only meant—" SLAP! "Meant?" Talvan roared, eyes burning. "Meant what? To ruin everything? To expose us before we even struck?!" Her voice cracked, sharp and defiant. "Is it my fault that cursed girl clung to Osric as though he belonged to her? Was I to stand by and watch her take what’s mine? No! She should have been broken—crushed! How was I to know she would survive?!" Talvan’s hand rose again—but a calm, silken voice cut the storm. "That’s enough, Count." The tension shifted. Marquess Everett lounged at the far end of the room, a teacup balanced with mocking grace in his hand. He took a slow sip, unbothered, lips twisting into a cruel smirk. Talvan froze, lowering his hand, his chest heaving with fury. Everett’s gaze—cold, precise—shifted between father and daughter. "Beating her won’t fix the mess," Everett drawled, tapping his finger against the table. "What we need is a plan that cannot be traced back to us. A plan that does not require her seal, her documents, or her cooperation. The princess is cautious. Too cautious. We cannot forge what we do not have." Talvan growled, pacing. "Then what do you suggest?" Everett leaned forward, eyes glinting with malice. "We create a disaster. A famine in the lower districts—engineered shortages. Caravans intercepted, grain delayed. Let the common folk suffer with us. When chaos erupts, we will whisper that it was the princess who overreached—that her taxes, her meddling, drained the lifeblood of her people." He smiled darkly, sipping again. "And when the nobles cry out, when the people curse her name, the Emperor will have no choice but to act. His love cannot shield her from the outrage of the empire itself." Eleania’s eyes widened, cruel delight sparking. "You mean... let the people turn against her. Make her the cause of their hunger." Everett’s smirk widened. "Precisely. Her downfall will not come from a blade or a forged seal—it will come from the cries of her own people, demanding she be stripped of power." Count Talvan rubbed his temple, still torn, still haunted. "It feels... monstrous. To starve our own citizens..." Everett’s head tilted, voice silken, persuasive as poison. "Monstrous? No. Necessary. Do not forget, Count—your sister, the Empress, died by Cassius’s hand. He painted her as weak and unfit when it was he who murdered her. Shall her bloodline sit on the throne? Shall his daughter carry the legacy of a tyrant?" Talvan’s gaze drifted upward, locking on the portrait of his sister—the former Empress—Cassius’s stepmother. His hands curled into fists. His voice was hoarse and bitter. "...No. Not while I live. If the empire must bleed so she may fall... then so be it." Everett’s smile sharpened, a predator’s grin. "Good. Then it begins. Grain will rot, caravans will vanish, and whispers will spread. When the mob roars her name in hatred... Cassius himself will strike her down." The room thickened with shadows, their pact sealed in silence. *** [Lavinia’s POV—Imperial Palace—Dawnspire Wing—Two Days Later] I walked down the hallway after sword training, the echo of my boots against the marble fading with each step. Marshi followed silently, but I could tell he was glancing over his shoulder like he expected a shadow to jump out at him. And maybe there is a shadow. I paused and smirked, folding my arms. "Stop playing hide-and-seek and just step out, Rey." From behind a pillar, he emerged, draped in his black cloak as if he’d been born to vanish into shadows. "You always sense me, Princess," he said, voice smooth and teasing. "Or... is this what they call a fate connection?" I let a small smirk tug at my lips. "No... I think I’m just... dangerously observant when it comes to you." He froze for a heartbeat, then gasped theatrically. "Is this... is this what they call love, Princess? Should we... get married?" I twitched, irritation flickering across my face. "Marshi—" He immediately raised both hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! I... I apologize. No need to let your divine beast—" he glanced at me, eyes wide, "—jump on me. I quite like staying alive, thank you very much." I sighed and crossed my arms tighter. "So... what did you find this time? I hope you’re not here with just a single sheet of paper again." He grinned, a flash of pride in his eyes. "Of course not, Princess. How could I ever upset my princess like that?" I raised a brow. "Just come to the point. Any suspicious activity from any noble families?" He nodded, eyes sharp. "Count Talvan." I hummed, as if considering the puzzle pieces. "Count Talvan... so I was right. That day... the one who pushed me... it was Eleania." Rey nodded slowly. "I’d say so. Count Talvan’s adopted daughter... Maybe she’s foolish." I tilted my head, smiling wryly. "Foolish? I wouldn’t call it that. Jealousy has devoured her senses... and that’s why she acted." Rey’s smirk widened, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. "So... are you going to arrest her?" I glanced out the window, letting the sunlight catch the edge of the tower. "Should I? Do you even have proof?" He held up a document, smug. "I’ve found suspicious activity, Princess. I never said she was the one who pushed you." I took the parchment, eyes narrowing as I examined it. "And this...?" He puffed up with pride. "Proof that I’m not entirely useless." I stared at him for a long moment. Even Marshi blinked in surprise at the little spark of confidence. I tucked the paper under my arm and began walking toward my chamber. "Alright, you can leave. Keep an eye on them... quietly, please." He pouted, stepping back like a wounded child. "No reward? No gift for my heroic work?" I waved without looking back. "I’ll send a generous sum. Consider it... adequate appreciation." Rey grumbled something under his breath but finally disappeared into the shadows. *** [DawnSpire Wing—Lavinia’s Chamber—Later] After I changed, with Sera’s gentle help, she asked softly, "Should I bring you some tea, Princess?" I smiled. "Thank you, Sera." She lit up with that bright smile of hers and turned to leave—only to pause at the doorway when Osric stepped in. "Greetings, Lord Osric," she bowed. He gave her a short nod, eyes already fixed on me, and Sera wisely excused herself. Osric strode forward with that usual composed grace. "Lavi, we found a purple stone in one of your gifted land—" His voice stopped mid-sentence. His gaze had caught on the parchment lying on the table. "What is this?" I walked over to the couch, slumping down with a sigh. "Some information Rey brought just now." The instant the name left my lips, I saw it—Osric’s body stiffened, a faint twitch in his jaw. His fist clenched, knuckles whitening, and then... He smiled. Not the gentle kind. Not the polite one. But the kind of smile that made goosebumps crawl down my arms. The final boss, a demon lord who just realized his treasure might be stolen, kind of smiled. "You mean..." His voice was smooth but laced with venom. "You met him. Here. In your chambers?" I blinked, tilting my head. "Well, not in my chamber, but yeah. Why?" His eyes darkened, lips curving dangerously. "Don’t tell me..." He took one step closer, his shadow falling over me. "...that bastard often comes into your room, Lavi." Something in his tone made my heart skip. I blinked again, too honest for my own good. "Sometimes he does co—" SLAM! The balcony doors rattled violently as he shoved them shut, muttering darkly and scarred Marshi and Solena, "I should seal away all the doors here... Bolt the windows too. Maybe brick them up." I blinked. Blinked again. "..." Then I smirked with amusement. "Hoho... Are you jealous?" His head snapped toward me. That smile grew sharper, like a blade hidden in silk. "Jealous?" he echoed, his voice velvet and dangerous all at once. He leaned down, caging me against the couch with one hand braced near my shoulder. "You think I’d let another man walk freely into your chambers, breathe the same air, and stand where I stand?" My throat went dry. My heart thudded. "I—It’s not like that," I stammered, trying to keep my composure. Osric’s eyes glowed with something primal. "Lavi, if I had my way, no man would step within ten steps of you. No one would dare speak your name unless I permitted it." "Wow." I tried to force a laugh, nerves bubbling. "That sounds a little... tyrannical." I pressed my hands against his chest, trying to push him back—only to realize I couldn’t budge him an inch. My hands trembled. When did he become this strong? "Osric..." I muttered, half a plea. "Come on, he just comes here to give information, that’s all. Now—step back, please." His glare sharpened, eyes dark and unreadable, and the air around us seemed to thicken. My breath hitched. For a moment, it felt like I was pinned not by his body, but by the weight of his gaze. Then, with a low sigh, he dragged a hand through his hair, frustration sparking like embers. Finally, he slumped down beside me with a frustrated huff. "So... what did that useless man bring this time?" I exhaled, trying to steady my hands as I picked up the document. "Let’s see." As our eyes caught on the words. Both our eyes widened. The room felt suddenly colder, heavier, as the words on the page settled between us like a storm waiting to break. For a heartbeat, neither of us breathed.

Chapter 183: Whispers of Famine

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