Chapter 16: Qazaethel’s Internal Conflict

Dust motes danced in the beams, floating lazily as though they had all the time in the world—a contrast to the tension that crackled in the air between the two women who stood facing each other.

Qazaethel sat behind her massive oak desk, its surface was cluttered with scrolls and reports that she had signed. Her fingers traced idle patterns on the wood, her gaze was fixed somewhere in the middle distance, unwilling to meet the eyes of the woman before her.

Liv stood rigid, her posture was betraying none of the turmoil that churned beneath her composed exterior. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her jaw set, and her golden eyes are fixed on the sovereign with an expression that wavered between disbelief and deep concern.

"You took Eiravelle’s purity?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. Liv’s voice was carefully controlled, but the edge of worry crept through despite her best efforts. Her face was contorted with concern, the lines around her eyes deepened as she processed the revelation that had been dropped upon her like a stone into still water.

"Your majesty," she continued, stepping closer to the desk, her boots were clicking softly against the marble, "you know that if you take an omega’s purity, you have to keep them within the walls of your harem. It is the law. It is tradition. It is the ethical foundation upon which our society has been built for millennia."

Qazaethel finally looked up, her golden eyes met Liv’s for just a moment before sliding away. There was something vulnerable in that gaze, something that the sovereign rarely allowed anyone to see. It was the look of a woman who had made a mistake and knew it, who was already calculating the cost of her actions.

"I know," Qazaethel said, her voice was softer than Liv had expected. "But another cage seems like the last thing she wanted. I do not want to trap her here, Liv. She deserves more than to be confined within these walls, more than to be another possession in the harem of a sovereign who cannot even give her what she truly desires."

Liv’s expression tightened. "With respect, your majesty, that is not the point. Once they find out she is no longer pure—and they will find out, these things always come to light—it will be a great disaster for her. She is an omega. The world is not kind to omegas who have been defiled outside the bonds of marriage or proper harem induction. The scandal alone could destroy her reputation, her family’s standing, everything she has worked to build."

Qazaethel let out a long, shuddering sigh. Her hand came up to rub at her temple, where a dull ache had taken root. "I am well aware of that too, Liv. Do you think I have not spent the entire night considering the consequences? Do you think I have not lain awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I could have been so foolish?"

Liv fell silent. She had known Qazaethel for centuries, had grown up alongside her, had watched her transform from a headstrong young alpha into the formidable sovereign she was today. In all that time, she had rarely seen her friend so genuinely distressed.

"What happened?" Liv asked, her voice gentling. "How did this... How did it come to pass?"

Qazaethel’s gaze dropped to her desk again. Her fingers stilled their idle movements, and for a long moment, she seemed lost in thought, replaying the events of the previous evening in her mind.

"I saw her on the woods," Qazaethel began slowly. "and I saved her. And she called me and asked me if I can take her that night... I said I don’t do charities, and she said, anything that can be taken... I moved impulsively by my desires so I agreed."

She paused, her jaw tightened. "I have spent so long being the sovereign, Liv. So long being untouchable, unreachable, and separate from everyone. And when she touched me, when she held me with such genuine affection, I felt something break inside me. Something I had kept locked away for centuries."

Liv’s expression softened with understanding. She had seen the loneliness in Qazaethel’s eyes, and had witnessed the weight of solitude that the sovereign carried like a second skin. She had always known that Qazaethel yearned for connection, for love, for something beyond the cold formality of court life.

"Your majesty," Liv said carefully, "you have always been able to have anyone you desired. The harem is full of omegas who would give anything for your attention. Why this one? Why Eiravelle?"

Qazaethel’s eyes flickered with something that might have been pain. "Because she did not want me, Liv. That is the cruel irony of it all. She wanted Kariv, my useless son, and she did not see me as anything more than the sovereign who could grant her wish. For the first time in my existence, someone looked at me and saw not the power, not the authority, but simply... The person who could help them achieve their heart’s desire."

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And I was so desperate to be wanted, even for a moment, that I took what she gave. I took her innocence because I was weak, because I could not bear the thought of another day passing without seeing her."

Liv’s expression was unreadable. She was struggling to reconcile the image of the sovereign she had served for centuries with the vulnerable woman sitting before her now.

"It is all right, Lady Eiravelle will not get pregnant anyway," Liv said, attempting to inject a note of confidence into her voice. "Since I know your majesty wore magical protection. It is a common practice among powerful alphas, after all. The spell is foolproof, designed to withstand even the most vigorous—"

Qazaethel raised her gaze, and the look in her eyes made Liv stop mid-sentence.

"The magical protection broke."

The words dropped into the silence like stones into deep water.

Liv’s eyes went wide, her carefully maintained composure shattered in an instant. Her mouth fell open, and for a long moment, she could not form words. She simply stared at Qazaethel, her mind was reeling, trying to process what she had just heard.

"WHAT?!" The word exploded from her lips before she could stop it. "NO! That is impossible! How did that happen?! Powerful alphas like you control magical protections. The spell is bound to your very essence, your command over your own body. It does not simply... Break!"

Her voice was rising, her carefully cultivated mask of professionalism slipped away with each passing second. In this moment, Liv was no longer the proper Warlord, the disciplined General who had served the sovereign with unwavering loyalty. She was simply Liv, the childhood friend who had grown up alongside Qazaethel, who had seen her at her best and her worst, who loved her despite everything.

"Keep your voice down," Qazaethel hissed, her eyes flashed with warning. "Or I will deduct it to your wealth at every ounce of secret being leaked from this room."

Liv’s protest died on her lips. She took a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to regain control. Her hands, which had been clenched at her sides, began to relaxed. Her shoulders straightened. When she spoke again, her voice was carefully neutral, though the strain was still evident beneath the surface.

"Forgive me," she said, bowing her head slightly. "I did not mean to raise my voice at the sovereign. It was... It was not my place."

Qazaethel rolled her eyes away from Liv, unable to bear the accusation she saw in her friend’s gaze. She shifted in her chair, her fingers came up to toy with a loose thread on her sleeve. She knew she had to explain, to justify what had happened, but the words felt inadequate, insufficient to capture the chaos of emotions that had consumed her.

"The moment I was inside her," Qazaethel began slowly, her voice was taking on a distant quality, as though she was reliving the memory, "the magical protection broke. It was as though it was nothing, as though the spell had simply dissolved at the first touch of her heat. And then it was the best feeling—the first time I have felt so goo—"

Liv’s hand shot out, covering Qazaethel’s mouth before she could finish.

Qazaethel’s eyes widened in shock, her words were muffled against Liv’s palm. For a moment, she simply stared at her friend and was too stunned to react.

Liv’s face had gone carefully neutral, but there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of exasperation and barely contained frustration.

"Do not paint it in my mind," Liv said, her voice was flat and unamused. "It is disgusting. And you are a dignified sovereign—you should not be fantasizing about how you were able to slide so easily inside her with all the lubrication her heat entrance had provided."

Qazaethel’s face flushed crimson. She pulled back from Liv’s hand, her mouth hanging open in shock at the words that had just come from her general’s lips.

"Goodness," Qazaethel exclaimed, drawing herself up with an offended huff. "Your shamelessness reaches the heavens! How can you say such a thing? I supposed you had already bedded multiple omegas, did you? That is the only explanation for such... Such vulgarity!"

Liv considered the question for a moment, her head tilting slightly as she mulled it over. Then, to Qazaethel’s utter dismay, a slow, teasing smile spread across her face.

"I just know," Liv said, her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I have read those erotic books. The ones they sell under the counter in the market districts, bound in plain leather to avoid detection. They are quite... Educational."

Qazaethel’s face contorted with disgust. Her nose was wrinkled, her lip was curled, and she leaned back in her chair as though Liv had suddenly become a creature she was not certain she wanted to associate with.

"You read erotic books?" Qazaethel asked, her voice dripped with incredulity. "You? The honorable General Liv, who has served the sovereign faithfully for centuries, who lectures me on propriety and decorum, reads erotic books?"

Liv’s smile widened. "Does your majesty have a problem with that?"

"I—yes! I have a problem with that!" Qazaethel sputtered, her earlier distress was momentarily forgotten in the face of this new revelation. "How can you lecture me on my behavior when you are secretly consuming such... Such filth?"

"It is not filth," Liv said, her tone was turning defensive. "It is literature. It explores the complexities of alpha-omega dynamics in a way that is both educational and entertaining. I have learned a great deal from those books."

"Learned a great deal," Qazaethel repeated, her voice turned flat. "You have learned a great deal from racy novels sold to commoners beneath the counter."

Liv shrugged, utterly unrepentant. "I am a general, your majesty. I am required to understand all aspects of alpha-omega relationships, including the... Intimate ones. It is part of my duty to advise the sovereign on matters of harem management and dynastic succession."

"Ha!" Qazaethel scoffed, shaking her head. "Now I know you are simply making excuses. You read those books because you enjoy them, because you are a shameless creature who takes pleasure in such things."

Liv’s smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "Perhaps I do," she admitted quietly. "But I am also not the one who took an omega’s purity outside the bounds of proper harem procedure."

The words hit Qazaethel like a physical blow.

All the humor drained from the room, replaced by the cold weight of reality. Qazaethel’s face turn pale, her hands gripped the arms of her chair as she stared at Liv with wide, fearful eyes.

"Taken," she repeated, the word tasted like ash in her mouth. "You think... You think I may have...?"

Liv’s expression was grave. "The protection broke, your majesty. You said so yourself. And you were inside her heat entrance, her most sensitive and most sacred area of her body. The chances are high."

Qazaethel’s gaze dropped to her hands, which had begun to tremble slightly. She had not considered the possibility, not truly. She had been so consumed by the guilt of what she had done, by the shame of taking something that had not been freely given, that she had not allowed herself to think about the potential consequences.

"I did not intend for this to happen," she whispered, her voice was barely audible. "I did not plan it. It was a moment of weakness."

She broke off, pressing her palm to her forehead as though she could physically push the thoughts away.

Liv’s expression softened once more. She moved around the desk, her hand coming to rest on Qazaethel’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort that was more familiar than formal.

"I know," Liv said gently. "I have seen your loneliness, your majesty. I have watched you carry the weight of the realm on your shoulders for centuries, never allowing yourself a moment of true happiness. I understand why you did what you did."

"But that does not make it right," Qazaethel said bitterly. "That does not undo the consequences. If she is with your child, if she carries your seed within her... The scandal will be catastrophic. Her reputation will be ruined. Her marriage to Kariv or to any future Alphas will be impossible."

Liv turned silent for a long moment, her hand still rested on Qazaethel’s shoulder.

"There is a solution," she said finally, her voice was hesitant. "One that might mitigate the damage. It is not perfect, and it may not be what either of you desire, but it would protect her from the worst of the scandal."

Qazaethel looked up, her eyes searching Liv’s face. "What solution?"

Liv took a deep breath. "You could formalize the relationship. Bring her into the harem, officially. It would be unconventional, given her arranged betrothal to Kariv, but as sovereign, you have the authority to override such arrangements. If she is carrying your child, if there is proof of your union, the scandal becomes a matter of dynastic succession rather than a moral failing on her part."

Qazaethel’s expression twisted with conflict. "But she does not want me, Liv. She wants Kariv. She loves him. To trap her in my harem, to force her into a marriage she did not choose, would be cruel. It would be no better than what I have already done to her."

"It would protect her," Liv insisted. "It would give her status, security, a future. And the child, if there is one, would be a legitimate heir rather than a bastard born of scandal. That is not nothing, your majesty."

Qazaethel shook her head slowly. "I cannot. I will not. She deserves to choose her own path, to love whom she wishes, to build the life she dreams of. I will not take that from her as well."

"Even if it ruins her?"

"I will find another way," Qazaethel said, her voice was hardening with determination. "I will find a way to protect her without forcing her into a cage of my making. The Gods may have answered my prayer in a twisted way, but I refuse to believe that this is the only path forward."

Liv studied her friend’s face, reading the stubborn resolve that had always been a part of Qazaethel’s character. She had seen that expression before, had learned centuries ago that it was useless to argue with the sovereign when she had set her mind to something.

"Very well," Liv said, stepping back and resuming her formal posture. "Then we will find another way. Together. As we always have."

Qazaethel nodded, a fragile smile touching her lips. "Thank you, Liv. For your counsel. For your friendship. For being here, even when I make foolish mistakes."

Liv bowed her head, her own smile returned to her lips. "I will always be here, your majesty. Even when you make foolish mistakes. Especially then. Someone needs to remind you of the erotic literature I read."

Qazaethel laughed, the sound wsa startling even herself. It was a genuine laugh, full of warmth and affection, and it chased away some of the darkness that had settled in her heart.

"You are impossible," she said, shaking her head. "Absolutely impossible."

Liv’s smile widened. "I learned from the best, your majesty. If you will excuse me, I have a hunt to prepare for. We still needed find this Cezar, and we will uncover who ordered the assassination attempt. And we will protect Eiravelle from the consequences of your indiscretion."

Qazaethel nodded, her expression turning sober once more. "Go. Find him. I want answers, Liv. I want to know who dared to strike at me, who thought they could end my life and escape unscathed. And I want to know what they hoped to gain from it."

Liv saluted sharply, her hand comed to her chest in a gesture of respect. "It will be done, your majesty. I will not fail you."

She turned and strode from the room, her footsteps echoed against the marble floor. The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Qazaethel alone with her thoughts.

The sovereign sat in silence for a long moment, her gaze was fixed on the door through which her friend had just departed. The weight of the previous night pressed down on her, the memory of Eiravelle’s warmth, her scent, the soft sounds she had made as Qazaethel had claimed her.

It had been wrong. She knew that. She had taken advantage of the omega’s vulnerability, her gratitude, and her innocence. And now she would have to live with the consequences, whatever they might be.

She thought of the floating paper she had sent skyward, the wish she had written with such desperate hope.

Love.

She had received something, but it was not what she had asked for. It was a twisted version of her wish, a cruel mockery that had only brought pain and confusion.

But perhaps, Qazaethel thought, that was the nature of the Gods’ answers. Perhaps they gave not what was desired, but what was needed. Perhaps this trial, this mistake, this moment of weakness, was meant to teach her something about herself, about her desires, about the true meaning of love.

She did not know. She only knew that she would find a way forward, that she would protect Eiravelle from the worst of the consequences, and that she would uncover the conspiracy that had nearly ended her life.

The candlelight flickered around her, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Qazaethel rose from her chair and moved to the window, looking out over the vast expanse of her realm.

Somewhere out there, answers waited. Somewhere out there, Cezar lurked, a threat to everything she had built. And somewhere out there, Eiravelle was beginning her day, unaware of the storm that was about to descend upon her life.