*Admiral Nugen*
Nugen was still in pain from the dungeons. But he worked hard to hide it just as he hid all the bruises underneath his clothes. He did not want to disturb Ana any more than she already was.
He could take care of himself. He didn't like to worry her.
It was what else he was worried about. And it seemed his worries were justified. All he needed to do was look around the room before seeing the disappointing reality.
It's good he came when he did.
Nugen winced straightening as he caught one of the advisers yawning. Beside the same man, another with sharp cheekbones leaned over to whisper something.
A snicker.
No one is taking this seriously. Nugen narrowed his eyes on the man to make him stop abruptly and straighten up.
He seemed to be paying attention now, but it was too late. As the sunlight shone through the arched windows, it was clear.
The room full of men did not want to be there.
These men were her advisors. Seasoned strategist, generals, and the like. The very war council of Nochten.
But GODS! Would you look at them. They won't even look up at her.
Nugen clenched his hand. Where was the respect to their future Empress? The loyalty?
He couldn't see it in any of the fat aristocrat vampires.
Things have gotten worse. His stomach turned. It was empty and pulled on his insides. Another pain. He had to breathe out slowly, pushing it aside as he could take no more.
This wasn't the time to be less. Ana needed him.
He couldn't fail. Not again.
Nugen took to face the crowd.
"Her Empress is very concerned over the topic." He raised his voice loud enough to grab their attention.
It seemed, at least, they were going to listen to him.
"It's best to start our plans now. We need to deal with Pave—" But just as he thought they were going to listen, something clicked in among the group.
"But Your empress-" The mention of Pave seemed to spark their defiance. Immediately, the men made faces and turned to each other to whisper.
"Can't this wait till after-" a thin-faced vampire hushed.
But his words were loud enough to be heard from the dials. Loud enough for Ana to shift her carnelian eyes to him.
"The coronation?" She prompted.
Some men nodded, averting their gaze–embarrassed, she heard. But others were looking around sheepishly.
A short vampire with a round face cleared his throat.
"That and-"
"And what?" Ana blinked, mirroring his tone. Waiting
"Nothing." The man looked down and stepped back into what Nugen could see to look like some clique.
He did not know if Ana could notice, but he could see a dividing line running down the middle into two groups—one which seemed to keep looking over to the door as if waiting.
He could already guess why by their searching gaze.
They were waiting for him.
"Why isn't Lord Mykhol here?" One final spoke out to raise Admiral Nugen's brow.
So that's what they are doing.
The men were stalling. They wouldn't start till HE came in.
It immediately made Nugen taste bile up his throat.
"He is not on the council, my lords," Nugen announced with a sharp look.
He made a mental note of their faces for later.
"Lord Mykhol does not have any say in the council."
"But her Empress is just a–" younger man, too young to have any real battle experience, dared to peep up. "I mean, I think we should get-"
Another older man, maybe a relative, grabbed his arm. "Quiet."
The young man deflated and stepped back into the group. A quiet nod of confirmation seemed to exchange between them.
They turned to face Ana as if they were now paying attention.
"Her Empress Anastasia has answered your question." Nugen stepped back. It seemed they would behave, for now. Thus, he had no more to do.
It was time for her to lead.
Something Ana wasted no time doing.
"We need to consider things as they are." Ana rose from her chair and spoke with a clear voice.
"The Bulgeons have been displaced from their home because of famine."
Again, the two crowds stirred.
A look of confusion ran across their faces.
"What? I've never heard-" a vampire with a heavy beard muttered.
A thin-lipped one snapped up."Famine, she says?"
"That might be a problem."
"Who told you this, your Empress?" The youngest asked innocently. "We've had no reports."
No reports? Nugen twitched. He'd been sharing all his files right after reporting to her.
But before he could snap at them, Ana was already ahead.
"It's in Admiral Nugen's reports." She motioned to the informants behind Nugen. They seemed to straighten up with pride for getting recognized.
But their well-earned pride in their hard work was only met with scowls from the lords.
"He- the human?"
A look of disbelief came across more than one face. He could see a few of his least favorite advisors glare at him.
"You dare put your trust in this-"
"Admiral Nugen has been diligently reporting to me on the affairs." Ana cut off with a no-nonsense tone. It seemed to quiet the men, but he still received a few death glares.
The hatred was nothing new.
Even when Empress Parsul was alive, he was not popular. He was damn good at his job. He knew it. They knew it.
So Nugen was not shaken by the less-than-welcomed response.
Ana, however, was another matter.
Where he was used to the glares and off-handed comments, the petite girl, blinked her large red eyes after them. Watching on with trust firmly in place. There was no shred of doubt in her mind to be wary of them.
Just like her mother,
Nugen clenched his hand before hearing her delicate voice call out.
"Admiral?" Ana turned, her voice firm. "Can you speak of the situation now?"
Nugen swallowed down the memory. Now was not the time to be distracted. "The Bulgeons have combined forces with the southern rebels."
"Yes, yes, we know—and they have our citizens captive. We already know this—get to the point." One of the advisors from the left side snapped.
"Unless Her Empress wishes to waste more time," another from the right added, tone sharp.
The right side, at least, pretended at patience, but it was thinly veiled. They weren't looking toward the door like the left, but their expressions were no less hostile.
And yet, Nugen noted a few faces among them that remained neutral. Not many. But some. A hopeful development, however small.
"Waste?" someone murmured.
Then came the snickers.
"What, with gowns and parties, you mean?"
"Shouldn't Her Empress be off playing hostess instead of meddling in war?"
"Wars are for men. Not for little girls playing at being queen."
Ana's fingers curled into her skirts. "I don't care about the party—" she started, but caught herself. She straightened her shoulders, pressing down the flicker of anger. "That's why I'm holding this meeting now. We need to act—"
"It might be too late," someone from the left sneered.
"I heard they're already moving north—" a whisper rippled through the room.
More heads turned toward the door. Waiting.
"Can someone fetch Lord Mykhol?" a voice called over the murmurs. "He should be here for this, since he'll be—"
"Lord Mykhol does not need to be here to hold a council." Nugen lifted his head, eyes narrowing at the left side. "We have our Empress now. And she can—"
"I say we postpone this."
The sudden suggestion seemed to electrify the room.
"Aye!" Hands shot into the air. The entire chamber seemed to shift, their agreement nearly unanimous.
"We will adjourn until Lord Mykhol is present."
"No, we need to discuss—" Ana tried, but her voice was lost beneath the rising tide of approval.
"The ayes have it. We will postpone."
"Right, right." The groups turned, already pushing back their chairs, already gathering to leave.
"No. I have not dismissed this meeting—" Ana countered, but they were already waving her off.
"We won't discuss anything until Lord Mykhol is here."
Her voice tightened. "But Lord Mykhol is not on the council—he has no more war experience than I do."
A scoff echoed from deep within the group. A thin-nosed vampire turned, his smirk razor-sharp.
"Neither do you, Your Empress."
Laughter rippled through the room, a mix of mockery and finality.
Ana opened her mouth, fingers twitching at her side. But her face was drawn as if not sure what was there to say.
Her hand lowered. Her voice faded.
And the council left her behind.
*Ana*
I find myself unable to speak as I listen to the last of their footsteps echo out of the courtroom. Now empty, the room suddenly feels colder–the air stale and dry.
Another meeting. Another failure.
No worse. Even with Admiral Nugen it's barely better.
I sink back into my throne. My hands cover my face momentarily as I hold the tears back.
I don't want to cry, but I'm frustrated. My body shakes as I try to breathe and calm myself.
Just breathe, Ana. I want to stay strong. I need to. But what do I do?
Why won't they listen to me? My fingers press into my eyes to relieve some tension. I thought, by now, they would listen.
But all they want to do is-
"Admiral Nugen? Are you still here?" I shift my hands away to find him.
"I am." He steps beside me—where Mykhol was supposed to be.
But Mykhol never came.
Why didn't he? I told him to be here.
Would they have listened if he had?
…Yes. I know they would have.
The realization stings. I tighten my grip on the armrest, my nails pressing into the wood. They should have still listened. I am their Empress. I am the one sitting on this throne.
And yet, it wasn't enough.
It's never enough.
The past few meetings— the outcome is always the same. Making it more apparent. They don't see me. They don't want to. Not yet. Not as one of them. Not as someone worthy of this throne.
Because I'm not just their ruler—I'm the wrong kind. A woman. A daughter of mixed blood. A ruler they never asked for.
The thought rises unbidden, and I try to shove it down, but it lingers like a bitter taste in my mouth.
Is that why Mykhol's presence matters more than mine? Because he looks the part? Because he fits into the world they want?
My throat tightens, but I force myself to sit taller. I can't let them see this doubt, even if it's threatening to swallow me whole.
What can I do if no one will listen to me?
I open my mouth but find nothing to say. I don't need to.
He watched everything happen for himself.
"They don't respect you." Nugen didn't mince words. It makes me cringe, but I find no words to defend myself. He saw it all.
"They seem to have more than enough respect for my cousin." I clench the arm rest.
All they wanted was Mykhol.
I swallow dryly.,
"I've heard something in confinement." Nugen stirs and lowers his voice.
His face was dire as he leaned in
"a marriage announcement?"
"You know?" I blink up at him. Gossip has spread that far?
Already?
He nods. "I heard."
"Then is it-" Nugen winces, clearing his throat. I can't help but notice he doesn't look any better after his nap.
He needs more sleep. I feel guilty for forcing him into a meeting so quickly. I shouldn't have rushed. It might have turned out differently if I did.
I clench the armrest again.
"How can anyone think of marriage during this time?" I stand from my throne. The sunlight has dimmed outside, shadows stretching across the floor. The days are getting shorter. The nights, colder. And my people are suffering.
I wrap my arms around myself, the weight of it pressing down on me.
"Why am I the only one who sees that?" I turn to Admiral Nugen, searching his tired face. "How can I make them listen? What do I need to do?"
He exhales, his expression grim. "I'm afraid I still don't have an answer for that, Your Empress."
His voice is steady, but there's something else beneath it. A promise."But I won't let this happen again. I won't leave you."
I open my mouth to respond but stop. His words settle into me—solid, certain. Even if the rest of them walk away, he won't. That should bring me some comfort. And yet…
One man's loyalty is not enough. I need power. I need allies.
But how?
I assumed the title of Empress would be enough to command respect. I assumed they would listen because they should. But tonight made one thing painfully clear: a crown means nothing if no one stands behind it.
I take a slow breath. I don't have the answer yet. But I will find it. They don't have to see me as one of them. They don't even have to want me here.
But I am here. And I will make them listen.
I will prove them wrong.
I have to.
With a steadying breath, I turn from my throne. The movement causes my shawl to slip, brushing back just enough to reveal the silver strands beneath. I freeze for half a second, fingers twitching as if to pull it back into place. But I don't. Instead, I let it be, my eyes glancing over the silver. My silver.
And for once, I don't feel ashamed to say that.
Then, without another word, I stride from the room.
Let them whisper. Let them doubt.
Because I'll prove to them I can.
They will see me, and then they won't be able to doubt me. Question me. Ignore me.
I know it.