Chapter 74
The Governor Administrative Building looked… prepared.
That was the only word for it.
The building was not busy or crowded. It was waiting.
As Dara’s carriage approached, she could already see the difference: more guards than usual, more nobles than necessary, and more observers than anyone had bothered to hide.
Carriages lined the outer lane, crests visible in careful display.
Council aides lingered near the steps, their low conversations cutting off the moment her carriage came into view, while clerks stood in clusters pretending to organize documents.
Witnesses.
Dara’s mouth curved faintly.
Oh, this is deliberate.
Beside her, her father watched through the opposite window, his expression sharpening as they drew closer. “I don’t like this.”
“That’s because it’s not meant to be likable.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
Cai lifted his head from where he had been lounging invisibly along the seat. That is a lot of attention.
Yes, Dara replied. They want an audience.
Do you?
Her smile sharpened. I don’t mind one.
The carriage slowed. Outside, the escort tightened.
Marek moved first, quiet and controlled, his men spreading naturally around the landing area like shadows settling into place.
They did not draw attention. They did not need to.
Garrick’s men, on the other hand, were impossible to ignore—solid, disciplined, and unmistakably visible, forming a clear outer line that said very plainly: this is not a situation you should mishandle.
Dara approved.
The carriage stopped.
A beat of stillness.
Then the door opened.
Marek stood there, composed as ever. “My lady.”
Dara placed her hand in his and stepped down.
The moment her foot touched stone, the murmurs shifted—not louder, but sharper. Focused.
Good.
Let them look.
She moved aside as her father descended after her, his presence immediately anchoring the space beside her. He did not speak, but Dara felt the tension in him. Not fear. Protectiveness.
New.
Unsettling.
…welcome.
Her gaze lifted toward the steps and found him.
Valerius stood at the top of the administrative stairs, already waiting.
Of course.
He descended as soon as she stepped forward, with no hesitation and no delay. The crowd quieted further as he approached, and by the time he reached her, the space around them had tightened into something very deliberate.
Dara curtsied. “Your Highness.”
“Governess.” His eyes moved over her, quick and assessing. “You are well.”
“I finished breakfast.”
A pause.
Then, faintly, “…good.”
Lord Voss made a quiet sound under his breath that could have been approval or disbelief, then bowed as Valerius turned slightly toward him.
“Lord Voss.”
“Your Highness.”
Their exchange was brief, formal, and carefully controlled.
Then Valerius looked back at Dara. “I received a request for my presence at this meeting.”
Dara tilted her head. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“How interesting.”
“That was my thought.”
Cai floated lazily upward, clearly entertained. Oh, they invited him too.
Apparently.
This is becoming dramatic.
Dara’s gaze flicked briefly toward the entrance. Yes. I noticed.
Valerius followed her line of sight to the gathered nobles, the observers, the careful arrangement of attention. “This was meant to be witnessed,” he said quietly.
“Yes.” Her smile returned, small, sharp, and amused. “Well. It would be rude not to give them something worth watching.”
His eyes warmed.
Dangerously.
“Then we should not keep them waiting.” He offered his arm, not for show or display, but as a clear declaration of where he stood.
Dara looked at it for exactly one second, then placed her hand there. “Very well.”
Her father moved to her other side without needing to be asked. Behind them, Marek and Garrick’s men adjusted formation, and the effect was immediate. Noticeable and intentional.
The watching crowd reacted, subtly but unmistakably.
This was no longer a summoned official arriving alone.
This was something else.
Good.
Dara lifted her chin and stepped forward.
They ascended together.
At the entrance, a clerk bowed quickly. “Your Highness. Governess Lynara. Lord Voss.”
Better.
Valerius gave a slight nod.
The doors opened.
They entered.
Inside, the air was cooler, quieter, and far more controlled, but the tension followed them in. Clerks along the corridor lowered their voices. Aides stepped aside too quickly. A few officials glanced up, then immediately looked away.
Dara noticed everything. Of course she did. She had spent enough time in this building to know when something was off, and this was not routine tension. This was arranged tension, and she disliked that.
Marek noticed too. She could tell by the shift behind her.
Cai floated near the ceiling, visibly delighted. This feels like a trap.
It does, Dara replied.
How wonderful.
They moved down the corridor without hesitation and without asking directions. Dara knew exactly where she was going.
The council chamber doors stood ahead.
Closed.
Guarded.
Voices murmured inside.
Her father’s hand flexed once at his side.
Dara reached out briefly and touched his sleeve. When he looked at her, she gave him a small, steady look.
He exhaled once.
Nodded.
Good.
Valerius saw.
Said nothing.
Better.
They stopped before the doors, and the guard straightened. “Your Highness. They are assembled.”
Valerius’s voice was calm. “Open them.”
The doors swung inward.
The chamber revealed itself all at once: council members seated, nobles lining the sides, and observers carefully placed.
And at the center sat Lady Celestine Arkwright.
Perfect posture. Perfect calm. Perfect control.
Beside her, Lady Yselle Greenmoor waited, composed and sharp, with folders stacked before them.
Prepared.
Dara’s gaze lingered there, then lifted.
Every eye in the room turned toward her.
Silence fell.
Cai hovered at her shoulder, barely containing himself. Ooh… This is going to be good.
Dara smiled.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Interested.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Let’s see what they’ve prepared.”