Realms of power

Empress Lauren sat poised, her slender fingers wrapped around the delicate handle of her tea cup. The steam rising from the cup seemed to mirror the anger simmering within her. Her eyes, like two glittering jewels, fixed intently on Prince Liam, who sat beside her, his impatience palpable.

Liam's body language betrayed his agitation – his fingers drummed against the armrest, and his eyes darted towards the door, as if willing it to swing open and provide an escape. The silence between them was oppressive, heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Liam's patience snapped. "Mother, why have you summoned me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation.

Lauren's gaze never wavered. "Did you have a pleasant afternoon, Liam?" she asked, her tone deceptively calm.

Liam hesitated, his eyes dropping momentarily before he replied, "Yes, I did."

The Empress's composure shattered. With a sudden, violent motion, she hurled her tea cup to the floor, the delicate porcelain shattering into a hundred pieces. "You had a pleasant afternoon, did you?" she spat, her voice venomous. "In Angelina's arms, no less!"

Liam's expression remained unruffled, but a hint of surprise flickered in his eyes. "Mother, what is wrong?" he asked, his tone measured.

Lauren's face twisted in anger. "You dare to ask me what is wrong? You, who would so callously disregard your duties and your future? You, who would throw away the empire's stability for a fleeting moment of pleasure?"

Liam's eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance igniting within them. "Have I committed some grave crime, Mother?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "After all, Father has many wives and concubines, and you are one of them. Why should I be held to a different standard?"

The Empress's face froze, her anger momentarily stunned into silence. For a few seconds, she struggled to regain her composure, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Finally, she spoke, her voice measured and calculated.

"Liam, as the future emperor, all women will be yours for the taking. But you must choose wisely. The women with the highest family power and influence should be your wife, your ally. With their support, you will ascend the throne unchallenged. But if you continue down this path, indulging in fleeting pleasures and disregarding your duties, you will jeopardize everything."

Liam's expression turned dismissive, his eyes rolling heavenward. "Mother, you worry too much. The throne is already within my grasp."

Lauren's eyes flashed with disdain, her lips curling into a contemptuous smile. "Your cockiness will be your downfall, Liam. You underestimate the complexities of court politics and the ambition of those around you."

Liam's face darkened, his anger simmering just below the surface. "You do not trust me, Mother. You never have!"

The Empress's expression remained unyielding, her voice cold and detached. "I trust only in the empire's survival, Liam. And if you're not careful, you will be the one who destroys it."

Empress Lauren's eyes bore into Prince Liam's, her voice taking on a stern, commanding tone. "Now, listen to me, Liam. I will not tolerate your reckless behavior any longer. You must think of the empire's future, not your own desires."

Liam shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting towards the door, but his mother continued, unstoppable.

"Sarah, the prime minister's daughter, is a far more suitable match for you than Angelina. Her family wields significant power, and her brother is a respected general. Marrying Sarah would secure a strong alliance and bolster the empire's stability."

Liam's face twisted in distaste, but his mother pressed on, her words dripping with logic.

"Angelina, on the other hand, is the daughter of the minister of finance. While she may be charming, her family's influence is limited compared to Sarah's. She would make a suitable concubine or second wife, but not the first wife."

Liam's shoulders slumped, his resistance crumbling beneath his mother's persuasive arguments. He knew she was right; he could not let his personal feelings cloud his judgment.

"I understand, Mother," he said grudgingly, his voice laced with resignation.

As Liam turned to leave, his mother's voice stopped him, her words dripping with urgency.

"Liam, remember, I will silence all rumors of your...indiscretion today. But you must be tactful and wise. Sarah and her family must never find out about your affair with Angelina. The prime minister is a proud man, and if he discovers your infidelity, he will ensure that Sarah never marries you."

Liam's eyes flashed with anger, but he nodded curtly, his mind racing with the implications.

As he strode out of the room, he summoned his servant, his voice low and urgent.

"Send a message to Angelina, of the minister of finance household. I request a meeting with her tomorrow. And prepare the most lavish gift for her – something even more extravagant than what I gave her today."

The servant bowed, his eyes widening with curiosity, but he dared not ask questions. He knew better than to pry into the prince's affairs.

As Liam disappeared into the night, his thoughts were consumed by the intricate web of politics and desire that threatened to entangle him. He knew he had to tread carefully, balancing his duty to the empire with his own desires. But for now, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was trapped in a game of his own making.

***

Sarah's eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on Tiffany, Felicity's maid. "Since your maid doesn't know how to speak of her superiors properly, she should be dragged out and flogged. No one speaks of my mother like that," Sarah commanded, her voice cold and detached.

Felicity's face paled, her eyes wide with alarm. "No, milady, please!" she protested, understanding that flogging her maid publicly was a deliberate attempt to shame her.

But it was too late. The soldiers moved forward, blocking Felicity's path as they dragged Tiffany away. Tiffany's cries echoed through the chamber, her pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

Sarah turned to leave, but her gaze fell upon a familiar object in Felicity's room. It was a delicate vase, one that her mother had used to decorate her chamber. Sarah's eyes flashed with anger, her mind racing with the implications.

"You are quite...covetous, aren't you, Felicity?" Sarah mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Constance, does something not seem familiar in concubine's Felicity's chamber?"

Constance's eyes scanned the room before coming to rest on the vase. "It seems Felicity the concubine has stolen from the main wife," Constance replied, her voice neutral, but heavy .