📍 Chapter 77 – The Proposal of Peace and Chains
The throne room had been quiet for days.
No court.
No council.
No applause or petitions.
Just echoes.
The scent of blood had been scrubbed from the floors, but it still lived in the cracks. Everyone walked softer now — like loud footsteps might awaken something they didn't want to face.
Zara sat at the high throne again, still pale from blood loss, but regal nonetheless. Her son, Kaelen, slept in a cradle beside her, guarded at all times by a pair of hand-selected knights.
This morning, a letter had arrived.
Thick paper.
Red wax.
**Sealed with a hawk in flight.**
The Kingdom of Venmire.
A southern realm known for its wealth, spice caravans, and *cold* diplomacy.
Zara held the letter in one hand, her thumb brushing the edge.
Leva, standing beside her, said nothing.
Zaire spoke first.
"Should I burn it?"
Zara shook her head. "Read it."
Malric unrolled the scroll and read aloud.
> "To Queen Zara of the Northlands, Flame of the First Stone, and Guardian of the Crownborn Child—
>
> We, the Council of Venmire, offer our aid. We have watched the tides of your kingdom and respect your fight.
>
> But respect does not end wars.
>
> We propose a treaty of unity:
>
> You shall wed our prince, Lord Tarec of Venmire, uniting our bloodlines.
>
> In return, we will send 2,000 soldiers, 50 war horses, and a gold treasury to refill your vaults.
>
> We will make your son safe.
>
> We will make your enemies tremble.
>
> The Raven does not fear a single queen.
>
> But he will fear two kingdoms tied by blood.
>
> Decide in five days. Or face the darkness alone."
>
> Signed,
> The Council of Venmire."
---
The room stayed silent.
Zara stared at the letter for a long time.
Then stood.
And walked out.
---
Leva found her hours later, sitting alone in the Queen's Chapel — a small stone sanctuary behind the palace garden, where her mother used to pray.
The windows were stained with stories of queens long gone.
Zara didn't look up as Leva entered.
"I always hated this place," she said softly. "It smells like wax and death."
Leva knelt beside her.
"You don't have to marry him."
Zara laughed bitterly. "Don't I? You heard what they offer. Everything we *need*."
"We'll survive without them."
"No, Leva. We'll *endure* without them. That's not the same as winning."
Leva clenched her jaw.
"What about love?"
Zara scoffed. "Love? I just gave birth in a room full of blood. My body still aches. I haven't slept more than three hours since Kaelen came. And the first person I ever trusted tried to poison me from the kitchen."
She looked at her hands.
"There's no space for love."
---
That evening, Zaire approached her chamber with a single question.
"If you marry this Venmire prince… what becomes of Kaelen's throne?"
Zara stood at the window, arms folded.
"Kaelen is still heir. I will sign no paper that strips him."
Zaire's voice was quiet. "But a Venmire prince will want power. They always do."
Zara turned. "Then let him *want*. I have learned how to fight men who want things."
She stepped closer.
"If he tries to take my son's future… I will feed him his own crown."
---
The next day, the Venmire emissary arrived.
Lord Carven.
A tall, thin man with gold rings on every finger and a silver tongue sharpened over decades.
He bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty. You are more radiant than rumor dared suggest."
Zara didn't smile. "Flatter me again and I'll cut your tongue."
Carven chuckled. "Then allow me to flatter the truth instead."
He presented a scroll — terms of the marriage.
No changes. No room for negotiation.
Zara scanned it.
And paused on one line:
> *The first child born of this union shall be heir to both thrones.*
Her blood went cold.
Carven smiled gently.
"That clause is tradition, Your Majesty."
Zara handed the scroll back.
"Then break tradition."
---
That night, she met with Malric and Auren privately in the War Chamber.
The doors locked.
The map spread open.
"They want Kaelen's crown," she said.
Auren nodded. "Venmire plays the long game. They'll use their prince to bind you — and your child to chain you."
Malric leaned forward.
"Let me take a dozen men. Quiet ones. I'll ride to Venmire and make them nervous enough to withdraw."
Zara shook her head.
"I won't rule with threats."
She pointed at the map.
"But I will rule with clarity."
---
The next morning, she summoned the emissary again.
He bowed deeply.
Zara didn't rise from her throne.
She didn't even blink.
"Tell your Council," she said, "that I am willing to sign a peace agreement. But not a marriage."
Carven raised a brow. "That is… disappointing."
Zara continued.
"You may keep your prince. Send the soldiers. Send the gold. I'll pay for them. I'll trade salt, silk, and bloodstone. But I am not for sale."
Carven pressed his palms together.
"Without marriage, there is no loyalty."
Zara leaned forward.
"There is loyalty. You just have to *earn* it."
Carven smirked. "Then may I ask… who *does* have your loyalty?"
Zara didn't answer.
Instead, she stood.
Walked over to the cradle beside her throne.
Lifted Kaelen in her arms.
Then turned to the emissary.
"My loyalty lies here."
---
By nightfall, Carven had left the palace.
Zara watched him ride away from the northern balcony.
Leva joined her.
"You just refused 2,000 soldiers."
Zara nodded.
"I'd rather raise my son in a broken palace than sell him from a golden crib."
Leva said nothing.
Just smiled.
And for the first time in weeks…
So did Zara.