The private chamber was considerably smaller than the throne room, designed for intimate family discussions rather than grand ceremonies. Four people occupied the space—King Harold, Queen Eleanor, Princess Fedora, and Raze.

The atmosphere was thick with tension that made even breathing feel difficult.

Raze's mind flashed back to moments earlier, replaying the sequence of events that had led to this uncomfortable situation.

---

The throne room had fallen into shocked silence after Fedora's acceptance, a thousand nobles processing implications that would reshape the kingdom's future. King Harold had stood frozen for a long moment before finally finding his voice.

"I... accept this proposal," he'd said, the words seeming to cost him significant effort. "Princess Fedora is hereby betrothed to Count Raze Dragonheart, with formal engagement ceremony to be scheduled following appropriate preparations."

The initial shock had given way to applause, hesitant at first but building into genuine celebration as the assembled nobility recognized they were witnessing history. Smiles appeared across faces that moments before had shown only disbelief, political minds already calculating how this marriage would affect various factions and interests.

The ceremony had concluded shortly after, guests dismissed with instructions that formal announcements would follow regarding engagement details. But before Raze could retreat with his companions, the king had caught his attention.

"Count Dragonheart," Harold had said, his tone carrying weight that suggested this wasn't optional. "Please accompany my family to private chambers. We have matters requiring immediate discussion."

Raze had followed, his heart hammering as he recognized this would be where real consequences manifested, away from public observation and political necessity.

---

Now he sat in that private chamber, acutely aware of every second passing in uncomfortable silence.

King Harold was sweating profusely, droplets visible on his forehead despite the room's comfortable temperature. His cinnamon brown hair was slightly disheveled where he'd apparently run his hands through it repeatedly, his composed demeanor from the ceremony completely abandoned.

Queen Eleanor sat with perfect posture, her expression serene though her eyes tracked between her husband and their daughter with interest that suggested she was enjoying this far more than propriety permitted acknowledging.

Fedora maintained composure that was impressive given her earlier blush, though tension in her shoulders betrayed nervousness beneath the calm exterior.

And Raze felt like he was sitting before an executioner rather than his future in-laws, the weight of what he'd done pressing down on him with increasing intensity.

The silence stretched, becoming almost unbearable as eyes turned from person to person. King Harold looked at his daughter, then his wife, then Raze, then back to Fedora in a cycle that suggested his mind was racing too frantically to settle on a single target.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the king spoke.

"Explain."

One word, delivered with weight that transcended its simplicity. Not a request but a command from someone whose patience had reached its absolute limit.

Raze opened his mouth, scrambling for words that would make this situation make sense. He was doing this for Sophie, for her protection and survival, but explaining that to the king without revealing Fedora's prophetic capabilities seemed impossible.

"Your Majesty, I—"

"Daddy."

Fedora's voice cut through his attempt, drawing everyone's attention. She'd risen from her seat and moved to stand before her father, her blue eyes meeting his with determination that was remarkable given how young she was.

"Since the first time Raze entered the castle, I felt something," she said, her voice carrying conviction that made the claim seem genuine despite its absurdity. "The moment I saw him in that receiving chamber, something in my heart recognized him as special, as someone who could be more than just political necessity."

Her parents stared at her, the king's expression mixing shock with growing paternal concern.

"I believe it was love at first sight," Fedora continued, the blush returning to color her cheeks. "I know that sounds ridiculous, that such things are supposed to be stories rather than reality. But I felt it nonetheless, felt certainty that this was someone I wanted to know better, someone who could make me happy."

Her eyes scanned both parents, landing on each in turn with intensity that demanded they take her seriously.

"I've always been a good daughter," she said quietly. "I've studied diligently, maintained appropriate behavior, fulfilled every expectation placed upon me without complaint. I've never asked for anything in return, never demanded special treatment or privileges beyond what my position required."

She reached out and took Raze's hand, the gesture deliberately romantic as she laced their fingers together.

"Please give me a waiver this time. Accept my choice, accept the love I feel for this man who's proven himself worthy through actions rather than just bloodline. This is who I want, who I need to spend my life with."

Raze felt his brain short-circuit at the sudden physical contact and declaration, confusion overwhelming his ability to process what was happening. This wasn't part of the plan they'd discussed, wasn't the pragmatic arrangement based on Sophie's protection.

Fedora squeezed his hand and shot him a look that managed to convey urgent instruction despite lasting less than a second. Her eyes flicked toward her parents then back to him, the message clear—play along, support what I'm saying, help sell this narrative.

Understanding crashed through his confusion as he caught on to what she was doing. The pragmatic explanation wouldn't work with her father, wouldn't overcome paternal instincts to protect his daughter from political arrangement. But love, genuine emotion transcending practical consideration? That might actually succeed.

"Your Majesty," Raze said, finding his voice as he stood while maintaining hold of Fedora's hand. "I cannot claim to understand why the princess would choose me when she could have anyone in the kingdom. But I can promise that I'll spend every day trying to be worthy of that choice."

He met King Harold's eyes directly, letting sincerity show through despite the deception underlying their words.

"I'll take care of her, protect her, ensure she never regrets placing her trust in me. Whatever responsibilities come with marrying into the royal family, I'll fulfill them to the absolute best of my ability."

Queen Eleanor's serene expression broke into a genuine smile, one hand moving to cover her heart as if touched by the declaration. "Oh Harold, they're so earnest! Look at them standing there holding hands like young lovers despite everything."

"Eleanor," the king began, his tone suggesting this wasn't helping.

"I think he's perfect for her," the queen continued, completely ignoring her husband's attempt to interject. "He's brave, intelligent, clearly capable given what he accomplished. And look how he's looking at her—you can see he genuinely cares."

"We've known him for less than a day," King Harold protested, though his voice carried less certainty than his words suggested.

"And in that day he's proven himself more thoroughly than nobles who've courted favor for decades," Eleanor countered. "He exposed corruption you suspected but couldn't touch, assembled a team that accomplished what your investigators couldn't, and did it all while barely an adult. Those aren't qualities you find in every generation, let alone every potential suitor."

She rose from her seat and moved to stand beside her daughter, creating a united front that made the king visibly uncomfortable.

"Our daughter says she loves him, that she felt a connection from the moment they met. Are you going to dismiss her feelings simply because they developed quickly? Some of the kingdom's greatest love stories began with immediate recognition of compatibility."

"That's—those are stories," Harold said weakly. "This is reality, with political implications that go far beyond personal feelings."

"The political implications are excellent," Eleanor said firmly. "He's now a Count with land holdings, he's proven his capabilities beyond any doubt, and his marriage to Fedora cements his loyalty to the crown while providing her with a partner who's demonstrated he'll fight for what's right regardless of personal cost."

She placed one hand on Fedora's shoulder, the other gesturing toward Raze.

"Accept him, Harold. Welcome him into our family properly instead of treating this like a political crisis. Our daughter has made her choice, and it's a good one even if the timing is unconventional."

The king looked between the three of them—his wife's determined expression, his daughter's hopeful face, and Raze's earnest attempt to appear worthy of the trust being placed in him. His shoulders slumped slightly, recognizing he was outnumbered and outmaneuvered.

Time passed in silence as he wrestled with paternal instincts warring against practical assessment. Minutes stretched while the three of them waited for his decision, the tension gradually building toward unbearable levels.

Finally, King Harold stood and walked to where Raze remained holding his daughter's hand.

"Never make Fedora cry," he said quietly, his blue eyes boring into Raze's with intensity that transcended the almost casual delivery. "Not from sadness, not from fear, not from regret about choosing you. Whatever challenges you face, whatever difficulties arise, you ensure she remains happy and safe."

The words were phrased like fatherly advice, almost joking in their simplicity. But Raze knew with absolute certainty that this was deadly serious, that King Harold was communicating a threat wrapped in paternal concern.

Break his daughter's heart and face consequences that would make tonight's executions seem merciful by comparison.

"I swear it, Your Majesty," Raze said, meeting that intense gaze without flinching. "Your daughter will never have cause to regret this choice."

The king studied him for another long moment before nodding slowly and stepping back.

Queen Eleanor immediately seized the shift in atmosphere, her voice brightening with enthusiasm that was only partially strategic. "Wonderful! Now we need to plan the engagement ceremony properly. This isn't something that can be rushed—we'll need to send invitations to every significant noble family, coordinate with the Temple for appropriate blessings, arrange for—"

"Tomorrow," King Harold interrupted, raising one hand to forestall his wife's planning momentum. "We'll discuss ceremony details tomorrow when everyone's had time to process what's happened. For now, I think our new Count should inspect his property and rest after everything he's experienced today."

He turned to Raze, his expression less severe than moments before but still carrying weight of authority.

"Your residence is in the eastern quarter of Castle Town, approximately ten minutes by carriage. The property includes the main house, servant quarters, stables, and grounds suitable for training or entertainment as you prefer. Everything has been prepared for immediate occupancy."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Raze said, bowing respectfully.

"Fedora can escort you out," the queen said with a smile that suggested she found something amusing about the arrangement. "Give you a chance to speak privately before you're separated for the evening."

The princess's blush returned in full force as she led Raze from the private chamber, her hand still entwined with his as they walked through corridors that were notably empty of servants or guards. Someone had clearly ensured they'd have privacy for this journey.

They walked in silence until they'd moved far enough from her parents' chambers that conversation wouldn't carry, then Fedora spoke quietly.

"You did well in there," she said. "Supporting what I said even though it caught you completely off guard. My father is overprotective—the pragmatic explanation wouldn't have worked with him."

"You could have warned me you were going to claim love at first sight," Raze replied, keeping his voice equally low. "I nearly gave everything away with how confused I looked."

"The confusion actually helped," Fedora said with a slight smile. "Made it seem more genuine, like you were overwhelmed by your own feelings rather than acting from political calculation."

They continued through the castle, eventually emerging into grounds where a carriage waited to transport Raze to his new property. His companions were visible near another carriage, clearly having been informed they'd be departing separately.

Fedora stopped before they reached the others, turning to face him fully. Her blue eyes were serious now, all traces of earlier performance gone.

"Don't worry about your sister," she said quietly. "We'll make sure she's safe, that the protection I promised is implemented immediately. Guards will be dispatched tonight to bring her here to Castle Town where she'll be under constant royal security."

Relief flooded through Raze, the primary motivation for everything he'd done finally being addressed directly.

"Thank you," he said, the words carrying more weight than simple gratitude. "For everything—the warning about the threat, the solution you offered, the way you handled your father. I'm in your debt."

"We're betrothed now," Fedora said with slight smile. "Debts between us don't exist anymore, only partnership as we move forward together."

She glanced around to ensure no one was watching too closely, then rose on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. The contact lasted barely a second before she pulled back, her face turning so red it practically glowed.

"For appearance's sake," she said quickly, the excuse transparent. "People will expect to see affection between us now."

Then she turned and practically ran back toward the castle entrance, her embarrassment evident in every hurried step. Raze stood there touching his cheek where she'd kissed him, his own face heating as he processed what had just happened.

"Smooth," Oziel's voice called from near the carriages, amusement evident. "Very smooth, Count Dragonheart."

Raze forced himself to move, joining his companions who were all wearing various expressions of curiosity mixed with concern about what had just transpired in the castle.

"We'll discuss everything at the new property," he said, forestalling the questions he could see forming. "Once we're somewhere private."

They boarded the carriage, the ride through Castle Town offering glimpses of architecture that made the capital's finest buildings seem modest. This was where true wealth and power resided, where every structure had been optimized through generations of magical enhancement and expert craftsmanship.

Finally the carriage pulled up before a property that took Raze's breath away.

The main house was three stories of white stone and elegant design, windows positioned to maximize natural light while maintaining privacy. The grounds stretched for what looked like several acres, gardens maintained with precision that suggested dedicated staff, training areas visible in the distance.

This wasn't just a residence, this was an estate suitable for high nobility. His new home in Castle Town, granted as reward for service to the kingdom.

Raze stood before the entrance, keys in hand, staring at the door that represented his dramatically changed future.

Count Dragonheart. Betrothed to Princess Fedora. Owner of this magnificent property.

Everything had changed in a single day, his entire life trajectory reshaped by decisions made to protect his sister.

He just hoped he'd be able to handle the consequences.

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