Chapter 10 - THE SUMMONS
Back in Newport, the Grand Hall of Embers had been transformed from a chamber of judgment into a nexus of diplomacy. The heavy basalt pedestals were gone, replaced by sprawling oak tables covered in maps, diplomatic briefs, and digital tablets—a deliberate blending of ancient heritage and modern administration.
Olivia stood before the towering stained-glass windows, her dark velvet coat brushing against the stone floor. Vesper rested lazily on a high carved pillar beside her, its mismatched golden and violet eyes tracking the movement of a courier entering the hall.
"Your Highness," the courier announced, bowing respectfully. "The federal delegation from Washington has arrived at the outer gates. Their transport is cleared."
Olivia turned slowly. Her posture was no longer that of a defensive, cornered girl hiding in the eastern apartments. She carried the quiet, unshakable gravity of a true sovereign.
"Let them in," Olivia said. "And make sure Master Rowan is present. We will need his knowledge of the 1892 Sovereign Accords if the federal delegates try any procedural maneuvering."
Moments later, the heavy oak doors swung open. Julian Thorne led a small group of three federal officials into the hall. They looked around with cautious curiosity, clearly expecting a medieval courtroom, only to find an atmosphere of disciplined, modern efficiency.
Julian stopped ten paces away and offered a respectful, formal bow. "Princess Olivia. Thank you for receiving us."
"Mr. Thorne," Olivia replied, her voice steady and clear. "I trust your journey through our airspace was smooth? My companions usually prefer visitors to announce themselves through the valley beacons."
Julian offered a thin, knowing smile. "It was... illuminating. We don't often see air defense radar systems rendered entirely obsolete by winged reptiles before breakfast."
"They are not reptiles, Mr. Thorne. They are guardians," Olivia corrected gently, stepping down from the raised dais. "And they are as much a part of this country's foundation as the Constitution your directors sit in Washington defending. Why are you here?"
"We are here because Washington is panicking," Julian admitted candidly, dispensing with bureaucratic pleasantries. "The Department of Defense wants to establish a joint-security perimeter around all Blackwood sanctuaries. The State Department wants a treaty. And the corporate lobby wants access to the silver-scale metallurgy."
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Olivia’s expression remained ice-cold. "Tell your directors that the Blackwood sanctuaries are sovereign family preserves. We will manage our own ecological boundaries, and no corporation will ever touch a single scale of our dragons."
Julian held up a placating hand. "I anticipated that response. Which is why I brought a counter-proposal."
