Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne-Chapter 44: So they were afraid, after all…
Shion woke up in warmth. Not the kind that came from blankets in the servant wing. Not the heat of bathwater or fire or tea. This was... different. Alive. The warmth of someone's skin. She felt it against her cheek, under her fingers, on her shoulder. It wrapped around her and didn’t fade, as if the dream was still lingering.
But something felt off. The fabric near her face was smooth and soft. The scent... lavender, mixed with incense. Breathing—slow, steady—right beside her ear.
Her eyes snapped open. She froze. Every muscle locked. Her body—pressed against someone else. Her hand—clutching a nightshirt. Her heart—pounding like a hammer.
Calista.
She was curled up against Calista. No. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. What would she think?! Had she cried in her sleep? Said something stupid? Would she be mocked?
She tried to pull away, but Calista's eyes opened. Without a word, she lifted Shion in her arms. As if she weighed nothing. For a moment, Shion saw her face up close—drowsy eyes, faintly furrowed brows, hair splayed across her shoulder.
"Looks like our little bunny's finally awake," Calista murmured with a smile far too warm.
Shion stared at her neck. She had no idea what to do with her hands. Or her breath. Or what had just happened.
Before she could respond, Calista set her gently on the bed and stretched with a yawn. "Today we start with a bath. Herbal. Then morning training," she announced like it was the weather.
Shion nodded faintly.
Calista walked toward her wardrobe. Shion slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and touched the floor—
"Aaaah!"
She jumped back up like she’d touched fire. The floor was... weird. Cool. Soft. Damp?
Calista turned. Saw her face. Burst out laughing. "It's moss. Living. From the southern mountains. Cold and tough as steel at night, but it can survive anything."
"You have living floor?!" Shion couldn't tell if it was absurd, magical, or just plain strange.
"Symbolic," Calista shrugged. "It endures. Like me."
Shion sighed and sat back down, hugging her knees. Her gaze wandered to Calista.
She had slipped off her robe and stood before a mirror. She pulled on black, shimmering clothes—fabric that gleamed like raven feathers. The clasp slid up her back like a thread of silver. Then came the jewelry: chains, earrings, a dark stone pendant. Every movement was precise, quiet, almost ritualistic.
And then the hair. Each strand woven into an intricate braid, coiled into a crown. It didn’t look like decoration. It looked like armor. Like a warning: Don’t come close unless you’re ready.
Shion watched, entranced.
"You're living here now," Calista said, not turning around. "After training, pack your things."
"I... I don’t have things," Shion whispered. "Just my maid uniform. And the dress Princess Sylphia lent me."
Calista glanced over her shoulder. "Then we’ll need to buy you something."
Shion frowned. Something stirred in her. Surprise. Disbelief. "I… really get to have something of my own?"
"Only if you want to," Calista muttered.
For a moment, silence. Just the murmur of a distant fountain.
"Don’t you need a maid? Someone to help dress you, do your hair...?" Shion asked, still watching the adornments.
Calista finished her last braid. "Royal children have that from birth," she said quietly. "But me... things were a bit different."
She said no more. She didn’t need to.
She turned, grabbing a dark cloak. Paused by the door.
"Time for your morning bath," she said, glancing at Shion. "Special blend of herbs and Qi essence. Regenerates muscles and helps form your foundation."
Shion looked at the moss. At her silhouette. At her own feet.
She drew a deep breath.
"This time... I won’t run."
And she stepped off the bed. Slowly. Carefully. But without looking back.
***
The audience hall was as silent as a tomb.
Cold light slipped across the marble floor, reflecting off polished columns. The canopy above King Aldrich's throne swayed faintly with the draft, but the monarch himself remained motionless—as if carved from the same stone as the palace's foundations.
A messenger knelt before him—young, but far too proud for someone who had just delivered news of a capitulation.
Aldrich's gaze rested on the sealed scroll placed on a silver tray. The seal of the White Dragon Sect gleamed in pristine white wax. Untouched. As if the document were meant to symbolize pure intentions.
Hypocrisy.
"Read it," he said coldly to one of his advisors.
Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.
The elder man nodded and lifted the scroll. His voice was colorless, emotionless—as befitted someone reading words that were never meant to exist.
"In light of recent developments and with the utmost respect for balance among factions, the White Dragon Sect wishes to pay tribute to the stability and unity of the continent. As such, we hereby withdraw our claims over the Crystal Spring and return its stewardship to the Crown."
Silence.
Aldrich didn’t respond immediately. He rested an elbow on the throne's armrest and clasped his fingers together. His gaze was fixed far beyond the hall. Perhaps beyond the palace walls. Perhaps into the past.
"That’s all?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Not a word about what made them change their minds?"
"None."
Aldrich sighed. Deeply. Far too deeply for something as banal as victory.
"So they were afraid, after all..."
His voice was barely audible, but there was no doubt who he meant.
Kaen.
The name didn’t need to be spoken. When that man moved, the echo rippled across the entire realm. Elders fell silent. Sect masters closed their gates. Even the once-untouchable factions—began to tremble.
"After all these decades..." Aldrich murmured. "One step from him, and they gave up something they'd fought half a generation to keep."
The advisor nodded.
"They say the White Dragon Sect called an emergency council after hearing what happened in the Iron Dragon Sect."
The king closed his eyes for a brief moment.
There was no triumph in him. No relief.
Only cold.
"Cowards," he whispered. "All of them. They think that giving up one thing will save the rest."
He fell silent.
"And I..." he continued quietly, "have to accept it. Because I couldn’t protect what was ours."
His hand clenched around the throne's armrest.
"I had no choice."
The advisor said nothing. He didn’t need to.
"Kaen didn’t do it for me. He didn’t do it for the kingdom. He just... decided something caught his interest. And that was enough to make the entire continent tremble."
He stood slowly.
"Inform the Sect that we officially accept their decision. And that we expect them to safeguard the territory until our delegation arrives."
"And unofficially, Your Majesty?"
Aldrich looked him straight in the eyes.
"Unofficially? Let them know I remember. And that they’re in my debt. All of them."
He turned and walked toward the exit, his footsteps echoing through the hall like the beat of a war drum.