Chapter 6 - The Council’s Shadow
The stone-flagged foyer of the main administrative building felt less like an academy hall and more like a sepulchre. High-arched stained glass windows cast long, bleeding streaks of crimson and gold across the floor where three men stood waiting.
They wore the heavy, austere robes of the High Temple and the Royal Judiciary—dark velvet trimmed with stiff white ermine, their expressions carved from centuries of institutional arrogance. At their head stood Chancellor Vane, a man whose skin looked like yellowed parchment and whose eyes had seen too many political marriages engineered and discarded.
When Lachlan strode through the arched double doors, his presence filled the cavernous room before he even spoke a single word. Josette walked closely beside him, her chin held high, her hands steady despite the cold knot of fury twisting in her stomach. Pippa hovered a few paces back, acting as an uninvited moral anchor.
"Your Majesty," Chancellor Vane began, dipping his head in a shallow, mechanical bow that lacked any real respect. "We were informed you were residing at the academy. We had hoped to find you attending to your duties in the capital, rather than... entertaining local academics."
"You bypassed my cabinet, ignored the protocol of the Western Reaches, and marched temple guards onto an autonomous academic campus," Lachlan cut across him, his voice echoing off the stone vaulting with terrifying resonance. "Explain yourself before I have my guards throw you back across the provincial border."
The Chancellor did not flinch, though a flicker of unease crossed his ancient eyes. He turned his gaze past the King, locking onto Josette with a practiced, patronizing smile.
"We are here in accordance with the Concordat of Three Crowns," Vane said smoothly, addressing Josette directly. "Article twelve dictates that any common-born citizen who triggers an active sovereign mate bond must undergo a mandatory twelve-month residency at the royal citadel under the direct supervision of the temple matrons. It is designed to ensure emotional stability, ideological alignment, and—above all—protection from undue political exploitation."
Josette stepped forward, her voice remarkably calm, cutting through the chilling air like a scalpel. "Translation: you want to lock me in a gilded cell, strip me of my research institute, and train me to be a quiet, compliant ornament who smiles politely at foreign dignitaries and never asks questions about state policy."
"You misunderstand your own position, Lady Carwyn," one of the junior inquisitors chimed in, his voice dripping with condescension. "You are dealing with forces far older and larger than your little herbal mixtures. A crown cannot be shared with an independent variable. A queen must be anchored to tradition."
A sudden, blinding flash of golden light snapped across the room.
It didn't come from Josette.
It erupted from Lachlan’s hand, striking the stone floor inches from the inquisitor’s polished boots with a sound like a thunderclap. The shockwave rattled the stained glass windows and forced the temple guards to instinctively grip the hilts of their ceremonial swords.
Lachlan stepped in front of Josette, his broad shoulders blocking the councilmen entirely from her view, his voice dropping into a register that sounded less like a man and more like a force of nature.
"Listen to me very carefully," Lachlan said, every syllable dripping with lethal intent. "Josette Carwyn is not a ward of the state. She is not a variable to be balanced, nor an ornament to be polished. She is the Director of the Royal Research Institute by royal decree and by her own unmatched intellect. If any man in these robes takes one more step toward her, I will not invoke statutory law. I will invoke my right as Alpha King to clear this courtyard of every interfering bureaucrat who has forgotten whose crown keeps their temples standing."
Chancellor Vane stared at him, the color draining entirely from his paper-thin face. He realized, with a sudden and terrifying clarity, that the King was not bluffing.
"Your Majesty," Vane stammered, raising a trembling hand. "The law—"
"The law is whatever I write it to be," Lachlan interrupted coldly. "And right now, I am writing an order for your immediate departure. You have until sunset to clear your horses from the academy stables. If I see a single inquisitor within twenty miles of this valley by tomorrow morning, I won't just strip your titles—I’ll feed your robes to the winter wolves."
The councilmen didn't wait for a second warning. Gathering their heavy ermine-trimmed velvet around their ankles, they turned and practically fled down the corridor, their guards scrambling to keep pace behind them.
When the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind the retreating council, the foyer fell into a profound, ringing silence.
Josette let out a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She looked at Lachlan’s back, seeing the rigid tension still locked in his spine.
"You just threatened the High Temple," she said softly. "The political fallout in the capital is going to be catastrophic."
Lachlan turned around slowly, the fierce, terrifying predator vanishing in an instant, replaced by the man who had sat beside her in the garden and listened to her fears. He reached out, gently taking her hand between both of his. The skin-to-skin contact triggered a warm, steady golden spark that flowed up her arm, melting away the lingering chill of the encounter.
"Let them fall out," Lachlan murmured, his thumb softly stroking her knuckles. "I didn't spend three years building a kingdom just to watch them turn the woman I love into a prisoner."
May you like
Josette’s breath hitched. It was the first time he had ever used that word aloud, outside the privacy of her thoughts.
Pippa, who had remained miraculously quiet during the entire confrontation, suddenly cleared her throat from the corner. "Well. That certainly saved us the trouble of filing three separate paperwork appeals with the ministry. Though, if we're done threatening bureaucrats, I think we should all go inside and drink that plum wine before it freezes solid."
