18. Kieran

18

KIERAN

I watch Aria as she prepares for her first official court appearance, her fingers steady as she adjusts her gown of midnight silk and shadow lace. A sense of anticipation builds within me. I know what awaits her beyond those throne room doors, and I'm curious to see how she'll handle it.

"Remember," I say, my voice low and measured, "the court will not welcome you. They see you as an outsider, a hexblood upstart. Show them what you're made of."

I brief her on the key players, watching as she absorbs the information with a determined glint in her eye. There's no fear in her stance, only readiness. It's... impressive.

As we approach the grand doors of the throne room, I give her a nod of encouragement. "Ready?" I ask, my tone betraying nothing of my inner thoughts.

She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "Let's do this," she replies, her voice unwavering.

The doors swing open, and we step into a sea of hostile eyes. The Winter Court throne room buzzes with barely contained disdain. I feel Aria stiffen slightly beside me as the whispers reach our ears.

"Hexeblood witch."

"Mortal trash."

"She doesn't belong here."

But to my satisfaction, she doesn't shrink away. Instead, she lifts her chin, meeting the gazes of the courtiers with cool defiance.

The Frost Duke approaches, his bow barely qualifying as such. "My lord," he says to me, before turning to Aria with a sneer. "And... the mortal. How quaint to see our hallowed court... diminished by such common blood."

I'm about to interject, but Aria beats me to it. "Duke," she says, her voice clear and strong, "I look forward to proving that worth is measured by more than the accident of birth."

I suppress a smile. Well said, my princess.

Throughout the day, I watch as Aria faces challenge after challenge with ease and dare I say… amusement?

Lady Rime's cutting remarks, the Summer Court envoy's dismissive attitude, the constant barrage of whispers and sneers. Through it all, Aria maintains her composure, her head held high.

When she interjects during the discussion with the Summer Court envoy, her point is so insightful that I see a flicker of surprise cross the fae's face before he masks it with disdain. The court may dismiss her contribution, but I note every instance where her intelligence shines through their prejudice.

As the court session progresses, I observe Aria's strategies evolving. She doesn't try to force her way into conversations where she's clearly unwanted. Instead, she listens, watches, and when she does speak, her words are carefully chosen for maximum impact.

By the end of the day, I can see the toll it's taken on her. The set of her shoulders speaks of exhaustion, but there's no defeat in her stance. If anything, the challenges seem to have hardened her resolve.

As the court session winds down, I approach her, allowing a small smile to cross my face. "Well done," I murmur, pitching my voice so only she can hear. "You've surprised them. And impressed me."

A flash of genuine pleasure crosses her face at my words, quickly masked by a composed nod. She's learning the art of court facades quickly.

Later, I watch from the shadows as Aria stands alone on a balcony overlooking the court. The sight of her, silhouetted against the twilight realm, fills me with a sense of pride I haven't felt in centuries. She's faced the worst the court could throw at her, and she's still standing, unbowed and unbroken.

I consider going to her, but decide against it. She's earned this moment of solitude, this chance to process the day's events on her own terms.

As I turn away, I feel a surge of satisfaction. The court may reject her now, may see her as nothing more than a hexblood upstart. But I, Kieran, the Demon Lich King, have chosen well. Aria has proven herself worthy of her position, not through birth or power, but through sheer force of will.

Let them scheme and sneer. My princess has shown her mettle today, and I couldn't be more proud. The Winter Court may be a thorny garden of power and peril, hostile to her very existence.

But she's no delicate blossom.

She's the princess of shadows and nightmares, and she'll thrive here, thorns and all.

THE END