A Royal Reckoning

Axel entered the grand hall of the palace, his expression hardened by the battles he had fought and the burdens he carried. The long corridors felt suffocating as he approached Empress Lamaine, who stood waiting with an unsettling smile on her face.

"Where is Theo?" Axel demanded, his voice cutting through the air with urgency. The palace might have survived the fire, but the tension was still thick, and he needed answers.

Empress Lamaine's eyes flickered with a cold calculation as she responded, "Theo is unconscious, my dear. The fire... it was too much for him. He's resting now, recovering from the ordeal." Her tone was laced with false concern, but Axel's sharp gaze didn't miss the subtle manipulation behind her words.

Just as she was about to guide Axel toward another part of the palace, Lieutenant Lionel appeared at her side. He leaned in close, whispering softly in the Empress's ear. "He's forgotten about her, Your Majesty. Axel doesn't remember Lila."

A flicker of surprise crossed Empress Lamaine's features, quickly replaced by a smile that barely concealed her satisfaction. She turned back to Axel, her expression carefully neutral. "There's something else you must see, Axel," she began, but her mind was already racing with this new revelation. If Axel truly had no memory of Lila, it would make the next steps of her plan far easier.

Axel's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange between the Empress and Lionel, a sense of unease creeping into his gut. He could tell something was being withheld from him, but with his mind clouded by exhaustion and the long journey back, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Empress Lamaine continued, her voice soothing and almost maternal. "Come, my son. Let us discuss everything in due time. You must be weary from your travels."

Empress Lamaine led Axel through the dimly lit corridors of the palace, her hand resting lightly on his arm as they approached a secluded chamber. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, a stark contrast to the acrid smell of smoke that had lingered after the fire. She paused in front of a large wooden door, her eyes flickering with a mix of anticipation and calculation.

"I want you to see something, Axel," she said softly, her voice carrying an almost tender note. "It's important that you understand everything that's happened."

Axel followed her inside, his expression unreadable. The room was dim, lit only by a few flickering candles that cast long shadows on the walls. In the center of the room lay a figure covered by a delicate veil, the outline unmistakably that of a woman.

"This..." Empress Lamaine began, her eyes fixed on Axel's face as she gestured toward the body. "This is Lila."

Axel stepped forward, his gaze settling on the still form beneath the veil. He felt a distant sense of recognition, but it was buried under layers of fog in his memory. Empress Lamaine watched him intently, waiting for a reaction—a flicker of grief, a sign of heartbreak, anything that would confirm her belief that Lila's death would devastate him.

But Axel's expression remained cold, almost indifferent. He looked down at the body with a sense of detachment, as if he were staring at a stranger. The emotions that Empress Lamaine had hoped to provoke simply weren't there.

After a long silence, Axel finally spoke, his voice flat. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" His tone carried no trace of the anguish she had anticipated.

The Empress's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, masking her surprise with a serene expression. "Yes, I thought it important for you to see," she said, her voice soothing, though inside she was seething. 'How could he be so unaffected?'

Axel's gaze remained fixed on the figure for a few more seconds before he turned away, his mind already shifting to other matters. "This is certainly devastating, Mother," he said, his tone polite but distant. "But there are more pressing issues at hand."

Empress Lamaine felt a surge of frustration as she watched him walk away, her plan to unsettle him completely failing. She had expected him to break, to show some sign of vulnerability, but instead, Axel remained as stoic and unreadable as ever. 'He really doesn't remember Lila?'

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to keep her composure. "Of course," she finally managed to say, her voice tight. "We will address those matters immediately."

Empress Lamaine lingered behind, her mind racing with thoughts of how to regain control of the situation. Axel's indifference toward Lila's supposed death had thrown her off balance, but she was determined to manipulate the narrative in her favor. She needed to erase any trace of Lila from Axel's life and replace it with something—or rather, someone—more useful.

As Axel turned to leave, Empress Lamaine called out to him, her voice tinged with false warmth. "Oh, Axel, before you go, there's one more thing you should know," she said, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with a calculated malice masked by a motherly facade.

"You should be pleased to hear that your wife has given birth," she continued, her tone dripping with fabricated sincerity. "Heather, the woman you married before you left for the war, has delivered a healthy child."

Axel paused mid-step, his brow furrowing in confusion. He turned to face the Empress, his gaze narrowing as he processed her words. "I have a wife?" he asked, his voice low and edged with suspicion. The question hung in the air, thick with disbelief.

Empress Lamaine's smile widened, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, my dear," she replied smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Heather is your wife. The two of you were wed before you departed. Surely, you remember?"

Axel's expression hardened, the lie as glaring to him as the sun at midday. His memories were hazy from the battlefield, but one thing he was certain of—he had no recollection of a marriage. And the name Heather, though familiar, was tied to other, darker memories that didn't fit the narrative the Empress was weaving.

He remained silent, studying Empress Lamaine's face, searching for a crack in her mask. But she was a master at this game, her expression carefully crafted to convey only what she wanted him to believe.

"She's given you a son," Lamaine pressed on, her tone honeyed but with an undercurrent of menace. "A strong heir, who will secure your legacy."