THE SUMMIT OF KINGS
1094 Words
Elena
I have never trusted a room full of rulers.
Too many smiles.
Too many secrets.
Too many people pretending they wanted peace while calculating how to benefit from war.
The Imperial Council Chamber was the largest hall in Eryndor. Its ceiling disappeared high above us, supported by enormous obsidian pillars carved with the symbols of every kingdom on the continent. Sunlight poured through stained-glass windows, casting colors across the polished black floor.
Normally, the sight would have been impressive.
Today, it was exhausting.
The summit had barely begun, and already three kings had accused each other of border violations.
A duke had threatened to withdraw trade support.
Two ambassadors were arguing over shipping routes.
And one elderly noble had spent fifteen minutes complaining about taxes.
I was beginning to understand why wars happened.
It was easier than diplomacy.
My family occupied one of the royal sections overlooking the central chamber.
King Alexander sat beside Queen Cassandra, both listening carefully to the debates below.
Cassian appeared fascinated.
Lyra looked seconds away from falling asleep.
Honestly, I couldn’t blame her.
“The Crimson Dominion crossed our borders first,” one ruler declared.
“That is a lie.”
“It is documented fact.”
“Your documents are forged.”
The argument continued.
I stopped listening.
Again.
My attention drifted across the chamber instead.
Representatives from dozens of kingdoms filled the hall.
Military commanders.
Nobles.
Merchants.
Advisors.
Spies pretending not to be spies.
Everyone had come to Eryndor for the same reason.
Fear.
Nobody wanted to admit it.
But everyone felt it.
The continent was changing.
The balance of power that had held the kingdoms together for centuries was beginning to c***k.
And once cracks appeared, they spread.
A movement across the chamber caught my eye.
The two men from the landing platform.
The ones I had noticed yesterday.
Now I could see them clearly.
The first sat with the Blackthorne delegation.
Prince Damien Blackthorne.
I recognized him immediately from military reports.
Twenty-three.
Military prodigy.
Commander.
Battlefield strategist.
Troublemaker.
Most reports described him as brilliant.
The rest described him as impossible.
Looking at him now, I suspected both were true.
Unlike everyone else in the room, Damien looked completely uninterested in pretending to enjoy the summit.
One arm rested casually against his chair.
His attention wandered.
His expression suggested he would rather be anywhere else.
I understood the feeling.
Across the chamber sat Prince Adrian Nightvale.
The complete opposite.
His posture remained perfect.
Every movement deliberate.
Every expression controlled.
He listened to every speaker without interruption, occasionally making notes in a small journal.
While Damien looked like a storm waiting to happen, Adrian looked like someone who had already calculated the storm’s path.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
A bell suddenly rang through the chamber.
The sound echoed across the hall.
Instant silence followed.
Every conversation stopped.
Every ruler turned toward the elevated council platform.
The Imperial Council had arrived.
Five council members entered together, their dark ceremonial robes trailing behind them.
At their center stood Chancellor Lucien Voss, leader of the Imperial Council.
The entire chamber rose to its feet.
I stood as well.
The Chancellor surveyed the room.
His expression revealed nothing.
Not confidence.
Not concern.
Nothing.
Which somehow made him more intimidating.
“You may sit.”
The chamber obeyed immediately.
Lucien waited until everyone settled before speaking again.
“For six months, the kingdoms have gathered to discuss solutions.”
His voice carried easily throughout the hall.
“For six months, negotiations have failed.”
Nobody argued.
Because it was true.
“For six months, the continent has moved closer to war.”
The silence deepened.
“We can no longer continue this cycle.”
Something about his tone made me sit straighter.
Around the chamber, I noticed other rulers doing the same.
The Chancellor wasn’t making a speech.
He was preparing an announcement.
I could feel it.
“The Council has reached a decision.”
There it was.
The moment everyone had been waiting for.
“The current conflicts cannot be resolved through treaties alone.”
Murmurs spread through the chamber.
Lucien continued.
“To restore stability, the Council will establish a permanent alliance between the three most influential kingdoms on the continent.”
Now everyone was paying attention.
Even Damien.
Even Adrian.
Even Lyra looked awake.
“The Kingdom of Ashford.”
My stomach tightened slightly.
“The Kingdom of Blackthorne.”
Across the room, Damien frowned.
“The Kingdom of Nightvale.”
Adrian’s pen stopped moving.
Interesting.
Neither prince knew where this was going.
Good.
That made two of us.
The Chancellor opened a sealed document.
“The alliance shall be secured through a royal union.”
The room exploded.
Voices rose immediately.
Questions.
Arguments.
Shock.
I barely heard any of it.
Because suddenly every instinct I possessed was screaming that this involved me.
The Chancellor raised one hand.
Silence returned.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
Then he read the names.
“Crown Princess Elena Ashford.”
Every eye in the chamber turned toward me.
Wonderful.
I remained perfectly still.
Years of royal training had taught me that much.
Inside, however, my thoughts were considerably less calm.
“The Council proposes a binding alliance between Crown Princess Elena Ashford, Prince Damien Blackthorne, and Prince Adrian Nightvale.”
The world stopped.
Not literally.
Just enough to matter.
For one brief moment, nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Then Damien stood.
Immediately.
“What?”
His voice echoed through the hall.
Honestly, fair reaction.
Across the chamber, Adrian’s composure cracked for the first time.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
Everyone noticed.
Because apparently none of us had been informed.
Good to know.
I slowly turned toward my parents.
My father looked surprised.
My mother looked dangerous.
Neither expression reassured me.
The Chancellor continued as if the room wasn’t descending into chaos.
“The alliance is intended to unite the kingdoms and prevent further escalation.”
Damien looked ready to start a war inside the summit itself.
Adrian looked like he was mentally dismantling the proposal piece by piece.
And me?
I sat perfectly still.
Because panic had never solved anything.
Observation had.
And right now, I was observing.
The Council wasn’t proposing this.
They had already decided.
Which meant the real question wasn’t whether the alliance would happen.
The real question was what I intended to do about it.
Across the chamber, Damien’s gaze met mine.
A second later, Adrian’s did too.
Three future paths.
Three unwilling participants.
One decision already made for us.
And somehow, I had a feeling this was only the beginning.
- Writer
