Chapter 122: My Son Deserves Better

Chapter 122: Chapter 122: My Son Deserves Better

"No."

The Emperor shook his head.

"Don’t answer that."

Duke Valmort paused.

The question still lingered between them.

If Adrian were your son, what would you do?

The Emperor exhaled slowly.

Then began pacing.

For the first time since the audience had begun.

Not far.

Only a few steps.

Then back again.

The movement felt restless.

Uncharacteristic.

The Duke wisely remained silent.

The Emperor’s thoughts had clearly not finished unfolding.

For several moments, neither man spoke.

Then the Emperor laughed.

A short sound.

Dry.

Without amusement.

"Do you know what irritates me most about this situation?"

The Duke’s eyebrow lifted slightly.

The Emperor did not wait for an answer.

"I find myself agreeing with you."

The admission surprised neither of them.

Not anymore.

The Emperor continued pacing.

Slow.

Measured.

Controlled.

"The political answer is obvious."

The Duke said nothing.

The Emperor looked at him.

Directly.

"Grant the dissolution."

There it was.

Spoken aloud.

For the first time.

The room grew very quiet.

The Emperor continued before the Duke could respond.

"My son becomes available."

A simple fact.

"The Empire gains opportunities."

Another.

"The matter concludes."

A third.

His gaze drifted toward the window.

"The Valmorts remain loyal."

"The House of Ashford remains loyal."

"And the Imperial family gains goodwill from both."

The Emperor’s expression remained calm.

Yet irritation lingered beneath the surface.

Because every angle he examined led him back to the same place.

The same conclusion.

The same answer.

The Duke finally spoke.

"And yet."

The Emperor laughed again.

This time softer.

More tired.

"And yet."

Silence followed.

The Emperor turned away.

His jaw tightened.

Slightly.

"Perhaps that is not even the part that irritates me."

The Duke waited.

The Emperor folded his arms.

Then looked directly at him.

"What irritates me is that I find myself asking the wrong question."

The Duke frowned.

The Emperor continued.

"For days I have asked myself whether Marian should remain engaged to Adrian."

A pause.

"I finally realized that is not the question."

The room fell silent.

The Emperor’s gaze sharpened.

"The real question is why she should."

The words landed heavily.

The Duke stared.

The Emperor pressed on.

"If she wishes to leave..."

A pause.

"If she loves another man..."

Another.

"Why should my son accept that?"

The room seemed to still.

The Emperor’s voice lowered.

Dangerously calm.

"I understand your daughter."

The Duke said nothing.

The Emperor continued.

"I understand Cassian."

Another pause.

"What I do not understand is why anyone expects Adrian to tolerate it."

The words struck with unexpected force.

Because they contained no anger.

Only protective instinct.

The instinct of a father.

The Emperor’s gaze drifted toward the city.

"My son spent eighteen years believing she would be his wife."

His voice softened.

"He loved her."

No hesitation.

No qualification.

The Emperor had finally accepted that fact.

"He built a future around her."

The Duke remained silent.

The Emperor continued.

"And now I am expected to tell him that another man may have her."

The room grew quiet.

The Emperor’s expression hardened.

Not with cruelty.

With pride.

The pride of a father.

The pride of a ruler.

"My son is the Crown Prince."

The words carried weight.

Not arrogance.

Truth.

"He is capable."

A pause.

"Intelligent."

Another.

"Respected."

Another.

"He will one day inherit an empire."

The Emperor met the Duke’s gaze.

Steady.

Unwavering.

"There are millions who would gladly stand where Marian now stands."

The statement hung in the air.

Because both men knew it was true.

The Emperor folded his hands behind his back.

"If Marian Valmort no longer wishes to be his wife..."

His voice remained calm.

Measured.

"Then Adrian can find another."

The Duke watched him carefully.

The Emperor shook his head.

Slowly.

As though frustrated by the entire discussion.

"As a father, I almost want to grant the dissolution immediately."

The confession surprised even him.

The Duke’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The Emperor continued.

"Not because I agree with your daughter."

A pause.

"Because I am offended for my son."

Silence.

Absolute.

The Emperor looked away.

Toward the horizon.

Toward memory.

Toward Adrian.

"I look at this situation and think..."

His jaw tightened.

Just slightly.

"Leave, then."

The words emerged before he could stop them.

Raw.

Honest.

Unexpected.

The Emperor laughed softly.

Without humor.

"If she wishes to leave, let her leave."

Another pause.

"My son deserves someone who chooses him."

The room grew still.

Because that statement felt undeniably true.

The Emperor’s gaze lowered.

Thoughtful.

Then another thought surfaced.

A quieter one.

"She once loved Adrian."

The room fell silent.

No one disputed it.

No one could.

The Emperor continued.

"For eighteen years, she believed he was her future."

A pause.

"She was certain."

Another.

"And now she is certain of something else."

The words landed quietly.

The Duke remained silent.

The Emperor folded his arms.

For several moments, he said nothing.

As though examining the thought from every angle.

Then finally he exhaled.

Slowly.

Tiredly.

"No."

The Duke looked up.

The Emperor shook his head.

"That is no longer the question."

Silence.

The Emperor’s gaze drifted toward the city once more.

"Whether Marian loves Cassian."

A pause.

"Whether Cassian loves Marian."

Another.

"Whether they will be happy."

Another.

"Whether they are right."

The room remained silent.

The Emperor’s voice softened.

"Those are no longer the questions."

The Duke watched him carefully.

The Emperor continued.

"If they are wrong, they will bear it."

A pause.

"That is their right."

The words settled quietly between them.

Simple.

Final.

The Duke recognized the moment immediately.

The conversation had ended.

Not the audience.

The argument.

The Emperor had reached his conclusion.

For the first time since the audience began, neither Marian nor Cassian occupied his thoughts.

Only Adrian did.

The answer had become surprisingly clear.

The problem was not the decision.

The problem was his son.

The Emperor remained silent for several moments.

Then finally spoke.

Quietly.

"I think I have heard enough."

The room grew still.

Duke Valmort straightened slightly.

But before he could speak, the Emperor shook his head.

"No."

His gaze never left the window.

"The matter itself is no longer unclear."

The words hung in the air.

Simple.

Final.

The Duke’s heart skipped once.

Not because the decision had been spoken.

Because it hadn’t.

And yet somehow he understood.

The Emperor continued.

"There remains only one conversation I must have."

Neither man said Adrian’s name.

Neither needed to.

The Emperor’s eyes drifted toward the distant wing of the palace.

Toward his heir.

Toward his son.

And for the first time since the audience began, the future seemed frighteningly close.

"Before I decide anything..."

A pause.

A long one.

Then:

"I need to speak with Adrian."

--

Tbc