Lord Helmut's expression soured, his jaw tightening. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but you do not yet have children with Her Majesty. You do not belong to any of our established noble bloodlines. And—I hate to say this—we are simply not comfortable entrusting the empire's governance, its armies, and its treasury to someone so... unfamiliar with our ways."
Larus's blue eyes went cold as glacial ice.
"And who are you to decide who governs this empire?" Larus asked softly, though the threat in his voice was deafening. "Her Majesty is still alive. She still breathes. She is still the Empress. And you dare to stand in her hall and speak as if she is already dead and buried?"
He took one slow, deliberate step forward. Several nobles in the front row actually stepped back, intimidated by the sheer aura of command radiating from the foreign prince.
"Should I take that as treason, Lord Helmut? Or merely a remarkably stupid attempt at treason?"
