Raze's mind went blank for a heartbeat as he processed the princess standing in his doorway while he sat naked in a bath. Heat flooded his face as the awkwardness of the situation crashed through his awareness.

"I'm in the toilet!" he called out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could think of something more dignified. "Please, give me a moment!"

There was a pause from the doorway, Fedora's voice carrying slight tension when she responded. "Of course, I apologize for the poor timing."

But she didn't leave.

"I'll wait," she said, her tone suggesting she'd resolved herself to endure the awkwardness. "What I need to discuss is important enough to warrant patience."

Raze heard her footsteps moving away from the bathroom entrance, presumably to give him privacy while remaining in the suite. He climbed out of the bath quickly, water sluicing off his body as he grabbed a towel and dried himself with hurried efficiency.

His mind raced while he worked. Why would the princess come to his room personally? What could possibly be important enough to visit a male guest alone, especially one she'd just met? The impropriety alone suggested something significant was driving her actions.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and checked his reflection briefly, noting his white hair was thoroughly damp and his face still showed the flush from the heated water. Not exactly how he'd prefer to meet royalty, but circumstances weren't offering better options.

Taking a breath to steady himself, he emerged from the bathroom to find Fedora standing near the window, her back to him as she gazed out at the illuminated gardens. She turned when she heard his footsteps, her blue eyes tracking over him before that blush from earlier returned with renewed intensity.

The situation became immediately, painfully awkward.

Raze stood there in nothing but a towel, water still dripping from his hair onto his bare shoulders. Fedora was fully dressed but clearly flustered by his state of undress, her gaze flickering between his face and the floor as she struggled to maintain composure.

"I—" she began, then stopped and took a breath. "Don't worry, I'll make this quick."

The blush on her face was impossible to miss now, color spreading across her cheeks in a way that made her look younger than her eighteen years. But she pushed through the embarrassment with visible effort, her royal training asserting itself over personal discomfort.

"First, I wanted to thank you," she said, her voice steadying as she found her footing. "Your actions tonight will cement my father's position as a competent king who doesn't tolerate corruption regardless of how powerful the perpetrators might be. The political capital he'll gain from responding decisively to your broadcast is immeasurable."

Raze nodded slowly, unsure where this was leading. "The king seems like he would have acted regardless of political benefit, he struck me as someone who genuinely cares about justice."

"He does," Fedora agreed. "But caring and having the political leverage to act are different things. You've given him both, and for that the crown is in your debt."

She paused, seeming to gather courage for what came next.

"I also want you to know that I'm aware you were the major reason all of this happened. The others contributed significantly, but the strategy, the planning, the determination to see it through regardless of obstacles—that came from you. I've reviewed what information is available about your group's investigation, and your fingerprints are on every significant decision."

Raze felt slightly uncomfortable with the praise, though he couldn't deny the accuracy. "We all risked everything to make this happen."

"But you were the architect," Fedora said with certainty. "The others executed your plans, provided crucial testimony and capabilities, but the vision was yours. Don't diminish that through false modesty."

She took another breath, and her entire demeanor shifted.

The blush faded, replaced by expression that was deadly serious. Her blue eyes met his with intensity that made his spine straighten involuntarily, some primal recognition that what came next would be significant.

"Your sister is going to die."

The words hit like a physical blow.

Raze's world tilted, confusion and denial crashing through him in equal measure. What did she mean? Sophie was safe in the village, recovered from the illness he'd cured. She was protected, watched over, there was no immediate threat to her life.

"What?" he managed, his voice strangled. "What do you mean? She's—Sophie is fine, I cured her illness, she's recovered."

"Not from illness," Fedora said, her tone carrying terrible certainty. "From assassination. Someone will target her to hurt you, to punish you for what you've accomplished tonight. I've seen it, seen the moment it happens and the devastation that follows."

Raze felt his legs weaken, the towel nearly slipping as his grip loosened. His mind was racing, spinning through possibilities and scenarios. Who would target Sophie? Why? How?

Then memory clicked into place with horrible clarity.

Her Authority. Her bloodline.

Fedora was one of the Seven Saints, her game profile had listed her abilities as some of the most versatile in Westia. Her Authority was Precognition—the ability to see potential futures with varying degrees of clarity depending on how significant the events were.

And her bloodline was Oracle, ancient lineage that enhanced prophetic capabilities to levels that bordered on absolute certainty for near-term predictions.

She wasn't guessing or theorizing. She was telling him something she'd seen with supernatural certainty.

Sophie was going to die.

Raze's knees gave out completely and he collapsed, catching himself on a nearby chair before he could hit the floor entirely. His breathing came in ragged gasps, panic overwhelming rational thought as the implications crashed through him.

Everything he'd done, everything he'd risked, all of it had been to protect Sophie. To ensure she lived, to give her the future that had been stolen in his original timeline. And now he was being told it wouldn't matter, that someone would take her anyway as punishment for his actions.

"No," he whispered, his voice breaking. "No, I can't—she's just a child, she hasn't done anything, she doesn't deserve—"

Fedora moved quickly, kneeling beside him with her hands on his shoulders. Her touch was gentle but firm, grounding him through the panic.

"Listen to me," she said urgently. "There is a way. One way to ensure she survives, one path where the future changes and she lives to adulthood. But you need to focus and hear what I'm telling you."

Raze looked up at her through vision that was blurring with tears he hadn't realized were forming. "What way? Tell me, I'll do anything."

"You have to marry me."

The words didn't process immediately, too absurd given the context to register as a serious statement. Raze stared at her blankly, confusion mixing with his panic.

"What?"

Fedora's expression remained serious, no hint of jest or uncertainty. "After the trial, there will be an award ceremony to honor those who contributed to exposing the corruption. You'll be recognized as having the greatest impact—your strategic planning, your leadership, your personal sacrifice all documented and undeniable."

She continued speaking with clinical precision, explaining political realities he hadn't considered.

"My father will grant you the title of Count for your service to the crown. You'll receive land holdings and a residence here in Castle Town, positioning you among the kingdom's highest nobility. The ceremony is traditional for those who serve the kingdom with exceptional distinction."

Raze's mind was struggling to keep up, still reeling from the revelation about Sophie's impending death. "I don't understand what this has to do with marriage."

"At the end of the ceremony, the king will ask you to make one request of him," Fedora explained. "It's customary—the crown offers a boon to those who've earned such recognition, within reasonable limits. You'll be expected to ask for something that benefits you personally or professionally."

She paused, ensuring he was following before continuing.

"I know what you're planning to request. Your wish is to attend Elmbridge Academy, to receive formal education at the kingdom's premier institution for cultivator training. It's a logical choice given your capabilities and the opportunities it would provide."

Raze nodded slowly, that had indeed been his plan once circumstances settled. Elmbridge Academy was where the game's main storyline truly began, where key characters would gather and significant events would unfold.

"Don't request that," Fedora said firmly. "Request my hand in marriage instead."

"But why would that protect Sophie?" Raze asked, his desperation overriding the absurdity of discussing marriage with a princess he'd just met.

"Because being betrothed to me automatically makes you next in line for the throne," Fedora explained. "The crown prince position is vacant—my father has no male heir, only me. When I marry, my husband becomes crown prince by default, positioned to inherit the throne alongside me when my father eventually passes."

The political implications began clicking into place despite his emotional state.

"That means Sophie becomes the sister of the future king," Fedora continued. "She'll receive protection equal to what I receive as princess—royal guards, secure housing, constant surveillance by forces that answer directly to the crown. Anyone attempting to harm her would be committing treason against the royal family."

Raze's breathing was beginning to steady as understanding replaced pure panic. "The threat would be too great, the consequences too severe for anyone to risk."

"Exactly," Fedora confirmed. "The Syndicate might want revenge, other enemies might want to hurt you through her, but none of them would dare target someone under royal protection. The repercussions would bring the full weight of the kingdom down on them."

She released his shoulders and sat back, giving him space to process.

"Additionally, as my betrothed you'd still attend Elmbridge Academy—that's where I'll be going as well for my own education. The betrothal doesn't require immediate marriage, just formal commitment that we'll eventually wed. You'd lose nothing you were planning to gain, but Sophie would receive protection that no other arrangement could provide."

Raze's mind was working frantically now, panic receding enough for analytical thought to resume. The pieces were connecting, implications spreading outward as he considered what she was proposing.

'She's seen this far into the future,' he thought slowly. 'That's why she blushed when she first saw me, why she came here tonight despite the impropriety. She knew this conversation needed to happen before I made my request tomorrow.'

"I've seen multiple futures depending on various choices. In most of them your sister dies and you're consumed by grief and rage. But there's one path where she survives, where you become who you're meant to be rather than what tragedy would make you."

"This path requires our betrothal as the foundation," she continued. "Everything else I've seen depends on that single decision tomorrow. Without it, the futures all converge on darkness."

Raze stood slowly, his legs more stable now though his mind was still reeling. He moved to the window, staring out at the illuminated gardens while he processed everything she'd told him.

Marriage to a princess he'd just met, purely for political protection of his sister. It was absurd, the kind of arrangement that belonged in stories rather than reality. But the reality was that Fedora could see futures he couldn't, had prophetic certainty about threats he'd never anticipated.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked without turning around. "You could let events play out, could avoid binding yourself to someone you barely know. Why intervene on my behalf?"

"Two reasons," Fedora said quietly. "First, because I want to see the future you envision. I've caught glimpses of it through my Precognition—the changes you want to make, the way you see the kingdom evolving. That future is worth protecting, worth ensuring you remain capable of pursuing it."

She paused before continuing.

"Second, because I can see what happens if your sister dies. I see you being plunged into darkness that consumes everything you are. The person you'd become in that timeline would destroy more than he'd save, would hurt more than he'd protect. I can't allow that future to manifest, both for the kingdom's sake and for yours."

Raze turned to face her, studying her expression for deception or hidden agenda. But her blue eyes held nothing but sincerity, genuine concern mixed with determination.

"You'd bind yourself to me just to prevent a dark future you've seen?"

"I'd bind myself to you because preventing that darkness serves everyone," Fedora corrected. "The kingdom, your sister, yourself, and yes, even me. The future where we're betrothed is objectively better than the alternatives I've witnessed."

They stood in silence for a long moment, Raze's mind working through implications that seemed to multiply with each passing second. Marriage to a princess, crown prince position, royal protection for Sophie, attendance at Elmbridge Academy, all of it contingent on a single decision tomorrow.

"I need to think about this," he said finally. "It's not a small thing you're asking."

"I know," Fedora agreed. "Take tonight, consider everything I've told you. But understand that tomorrow during the ceremony is when the decision must be made. After that, the opportunity closes and we follow whichever future your choice determines."

She moved toward the door, pausing before leaving.

"For what it's worth, I believe you'll make the right decision. I feel you value your sister's life more than your own comfort, which means the choice is already obvious even if accepting it feels difficult."

Then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

Raze stood alone in his suite, still wearing nothing but a towel, his mind spinning with everything that had just transpired. Marriage to a princess to save Sophie's life, a political arrangement that would reshape his entire future.

He moved to his bed eventually, pulling on sleeping clothes before lying down to stare at the ceiling. Sleep seemed impossible with thoughts racing as frantically as they were.

But exhaustion from everything that had happened eventually claimed him, pulling him into fitful rest filled with dreams of dark futures and the sister he'd die to protect.

---

Morning came too quickly, light streaming through windows to wake him despite having slept poorly. Servants arrived with breakfast and clothing appropriate for formal court proceedings, the outfit clearly tailored specifically for him despite having been commissioned overnight.

"The trial begins in two hours," one servant explained as they laid out the garments. "His Majesty requests your presence in the throne room thirty minutes before the formal proceedings commence."

Raze dressed mechanically, his mind still working through Fedora's proposition. Every angle he examined led to the same conclusion—if she was right about Sophie being targeted, the betrothal offered protection nothing else could provide.

But it meant binding himself to someone he barely knew, accepting a political role he'd never sought, stepping into a future that diverged dramatically from what he'd planned.

The question wasn't whether he'd do it. The question was whether he could accept the cost.

He was still considering when another knock came at his door. This time it was Sir Christophe, the knight's expression professional but carrying slight warmth.

"The preparations are complete," he said. "The trial will commence exactly at the appointed hour. His Majesty would like to speak with you and your companions before the proceedings begin."

Raze followed him through corridors already bustling with activity. Servants moved with purposeful efficiency, guards stood at attention with increased alertness, the entire castle was preparing for what would be the most significant trial in Westia's recent history.

The throne room was being arranged, seating for nobility and foreign dignitaries positioned to observe the proceedings. The accused would stand before the king's judgment, facing consequences for crimes that had been broadcast to the entire kingdom.

Justice delayed was justice denied, but today justice would finally be served.

Raze's hand unconsciously moved to where a ring would rest if he accepted Fedora's proposal, the gesture catching him by surprise. His subconscious had apparently already made the decision even if his conscious mind was still wrestling with acceptance.

For Sophie, he could do this. For her safety, her future, her life—he could accept whatever cost was required.

The trial was about to begin, and with it, the ceremony that would determine not just his future but his sister's survival.

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