The silence that followed her declaration was thick enough to feel, a heavy blanket of implication that stretched across the miles between them. Elreth did not look away, her own fiery will a visible force against her father's imnse presence. The air in her red-hued room seed to grow warr, charged with the tension of her demand.
"Papa," she stated, her voice sharp and clear, leaving no room for misunderstanding. "I want to make him mine."
For a mont, the stern intensity on Solomon Samael's face broke. A low, rumbling chuckle escaped him, a sound like shifting tectonic plates.
A genuine, if darkly amused, smile touched his lips.
"Who would have thought," he mused, his burning orange eyes crinkling at the corners, "that my fierce, untamable little girl would finally find a boy who could capture her attention. And such a promising one, at that."
"Papa!" Elreth's composure cracked, a flush of irritation rising on her cheeks. She stamped her foot, the gesture betraying a flicker of the young woman beneath the princess and the warrior. "I am being completely serious! There are no… romantic feelings involved. I want to make him my subordinate, my loyal knight. I cannot… I will not let Khione simply have him unchallenged." The na of her rival was spat out like a bitter taste.
The amusent vanished from Solomon's face as if it had never been there. His expression hardened, and his eyes narrowed into slits of concentrated solar fire. Elreth actually took a half-step back from the communication screen; the pressure of his gaze seed to physically push against her, a wave of pure, intimidating authority that transcended the magical link.
"Has that little ice queen of the Undines made him her subordinate?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, probing tone.
Elreth shook her head, her crimson hair swishing with the sharp motion. "No," she admitted, and then delivered the piece of information that truly changed the ga.
"They are in a relationship."
She couldn't keep the raw, seething annoyance out of her voice. It was a grating, frustrating fact that ate at her. Solomon, a man of imnse experience in reading people and politics, saw through his daughter's denial instantly. This was not the cool, strategic desire for a powerful asset. This was personal. It was the burning, possessive desire of a competitor who saw a rival holding a prize she desperately wanted for herself. It was the fire of jealousy, masquerading as ambition.
"Huh," Solomon grunted, a sound of deep, sudden understanding. He leaned back on his throne, one hand coming up to stroke his thick, fiery beard.
"To think the day would co when Khione Undine would open her heart to anyone, let alone a man. She must have seen sothing in him that we did not. Caspian must be beside himself," he analyzed, his mind racing through the political landscape.
"For all his love for his daughter, he is a clan head first. The boy's value is now… astronomical."
He fell into a deep silence, his burning gaze turning inward as he sched. The image of the future began to form in his mind, a future too enticing to ignore. He saw a grandson, bearing the blood of the Samael line and the unprecedented potential of Nero. A child who could command not one, but two, or perhaps even more, Primal Laws. The very thought was a siren's call to a man whose life was dedicated to power and legacy. He could not allow the Undine family to secure such a treasure for themselves. And he absolutely would not allow that arrogant subordinate of his, Azariah Raizen, to reclaim the son he had foolishly cast aside. If Nero returned to the Raizen family, their power could swell, potentially jeopardizing the Samael clan's position as the undisputed leader of the Seven Families.
The silence stretched for a full minute, the weight of his decision filling the room. When he finally spoke, his voice was no longer that of a father, but of an Emperor issuing a royal decree.
"I order you, Elreth Samael, my daughter." The words were formal and absolute. "You will do your utmost and make Nero yours. Not as a subordinate," he clarified, his voice leaving no room for argunt, "but as a man. Beco his woman. Win his heart. And you will bear his child. This is not a request. You have no right to refuse. I will await a positive result before you graduate from the academy."
Elreth stood frozen, her eyes wide with pure, unadulterated shock. The blood drained from her face, only to be replaced by a hot flush of anger and disbelief. This was not the outco she had envisioned. Sowhere, in the deepest, most unacknowledged part of her mind, the possibility had existed, but she had fiercely refused to admit it. She had thought, as her father's most cherished daughter, that she could suggest a plan and he would grant her the resources to execute it her way. She never imagined he would command her to be the primary tool in the sche.
"But, Father, I—" she began to protest, her voice tight with a mixture of fury and humiliation.
The magical screen flickered and died. The connection was severed before she could utter another word. The image of her father, his throne, and the terrifying Hellfire Spear vanished, leaving her alone in the sudden, oppressive silence of her red room.
A wave of incandescent rage washed over her. Flas erupted around her clenched fists, licking up her arms, the heat threatening to scorch the very air. The silken curtains near her trembled and began to smolder. With a monuntal effort of will, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced the fire to recede, swallowing the inferno back into her core. The energy, however, had to go sowhere.
She needed to vent. Now.
Snatching a training pass from her desk, she stord out of her room, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the quiet hallway. She didn't stop until she reached a private, reinforced training gym deep within the estate. That night, the sound of shattering wood and exploding enchantnts echoed for hours as Elreth Samael took out her frustration on the training dummies, reducing dozens of them to splinters and ash, her father's impossible order ringing in her ears with every furious, destructive blow.
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