The suspense

The hall remained frozen in silence. Time itself seemed to hold its breath as Chris took a step forward, the shadows of his reign looming over all.

Skylar's eyes flickered with something unreadable—was it pride, anticipation, or a quiet warning? Ethan, standing just behind, remained as expressionless as ever, though his sharp gaze missed nothing.

Chris turned his back to the room, stepping toward the massive Blackwood emblem embedded in the floor. The golden insignia of the empire gleamed under the chandeliers, reflecting the years of power, conquest, and absolute rule.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"The next ruler of the Blackwood Empire..."

He let the words hang in the air, the tension thick enough to crush those who dared to breathe too soon. Classic's fingers curled into a fist at his side. Christiana stood rigid, her chin slightly lifted, unreadable.

Chris glanced at both of them, his smirk barely noticeable.

"...has already been chosen."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the audience, but Chris raised a hand, silencing them immediately.

"You will all know soon enough. But for now..." His gaze landed on Classic and Christiana once more. "The empire does not wait for a throne to be filled. It continues, with or without a ruler. So until the coronation, nothing changes."

With that, he turned and strode away, his black cape billowing behind him as the heavy doors of the hall swung open. The declaration was made, yet the answer remained elusive.

Classic's jaw tightened. Christiana's eyes darkened.

The world still didn't know who would inherit the throne.

And perhaps, just perhaps... neither did they.