The grand city walls of the imperial capital loomed ahead, the sun casting a golden glow over its majestic spires. Isolde stirred from her daze as the carriage came to an abrupt halt. Her confusion deepened as a sharp knock sounded on the carriage window. Before she could respond, the door was flung open, and a stern-faced imperial knight glared at her. 

“Get down,” he ordered, his tone cold and authoritative. 

Still disoriented, Isolde obeyed, stepping out of the carriage. But as her feet touched the ground, the knight grabbed her roughly from behind, forcing her to her knees on the dusty road. 

“Stop! How dare you lay a hand on the imperial concubine with your filthy hands!” Lucian’s voice rang out like thunder, filled with fury and indignation. 

The scene was chaotic. Lucian’s men, outnumbered and unarmed, stood tense as more imperial knights surrounded them, weapons drawn. The tension was palpable, the air heavy with unspoken threats. 

The knight restraining Isolde sneered at Lucian, unfazed by his outrage. “Imperial concubine?” he mocked. “As far as we know, there is only one empress—the rightful one from the Aurelius Dukedom. Until Emperor Leonidas declares otherwise, Lady Isolde is no more than a pretender. Your claim could be seen as treason.” 

Lucian stepped forward, his hand instinctively moving toward his sword, though he carried none. His voice dropped to a deadly calm. “Choose your next words wisely.” 

The knight smirked, undeterred. “And who’s to say you didn’t kill the real Lady and replace her with a double? Until the Emperor himself decides, you and your men will be treated as traitors.” 

With a swift signal, more knights surged forward, seizing Lucian and his guards. They resisted, but the overwhelming force of the imperial soldiers left them no choice. 

“Take them all to the dungeons,” the knight barked. 

Lucian struggled against the hands restraining him, his gaze locking onto Isolde’s. “Do not falter,” he said, his voice steady and commanding. 

Isolde nodded, though fear gripped her heart. She felt the weight of their predicament pressing down on her. As she was dragged away, she glanced back at Lucian, his defiance unyielding even as chains were placed on his wrists. 

The imperial city’s gates loomed closer, its grandeur marred by the chilling reality of their captivity. Inside those walls awaited an uncertain fate, the judgment of Emperor Leonidas, and perhaps the cruel machinations of those who sought to use them as pawns in a greater game. 

As the carriage carrying the detained party rumbled through the city streets, whispers and murmurs followed them. The people of the imperial capital watched with curious eyes, their gossip weaving. The dungeon’s cold, damp air greeted them as they were led into its depths. The heavy iron doors slammed shut, sealing their fate within the oppressive darkness. 

The grand throne room was vast, its marble floors gleaming under the light of massive chandeliers. Noblemen and women stood along the sides, their gazes fixed on Isolde and Lucian as they knelt before Emperor Leonidas and Empress. The room buzzed with whispers, speculation swirling in the air like a storm. 

“Emperor! The traitor and the pretender must face justice!” a nobleman cried, his voice sharp and accusatory. 

Lucian’s fists clenched, his temper flaring. “Lady Isolde is no pretender! She bears the rightful bloodline of the Sable family!” 

“Silence!” Emperor Leonidas’s voice cut through the noise like a blade. His cold gaze fixed on Lucian before shifting to Isolde. He studied her, his eyes calculating. 

“Lady Isolde,” he began, his tone measured, “can you prove that you are the true Ducal Lady of the Sable lineage?” 

Isolde hesitated, her heart pounding. “How would you have me prove it, Your Majesty?” she asked, keeping her head bowed to avoid his piercing stare. 

A noblewoman stepped forward, her voice shrill with disdain. “Why not demonstrate the powers of your bloodline? Only the true Sable heir can summon the darkness!” 

“But that power is only awakened upon the murder of the current duke,” another noble interjected, his voice laced with suspicion. 

A murmur of agreement rippled through the court. 

Isolde rose to her feet, her expression calm despite the tension. “That is a falsehood,” she declared firmly. “The powers of the Sable lineage are not tied to patricide, as some would believe. I will prove my identity now.” 

The room fell into a hushed silence as Isolde extended her hand. Shadows began to writhe at her feet, pooling like ink before surging upward. From the darkness, an army of skeletal warriors emerged, their forms shrouded in an eerie black mist. Gasps filled the room, nobles shrinking back as the skeletal figures stood in menacing formation behind Isolde. 

Leonidas’s expression was unreadable, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion—satisfaction mixed with a hint of anger. “Impressive,” he said, his voice low. “But tell me, Lady Isolde, if the power of your bloodline is not tied to murder, why has this lie persisted for generations?” 

“It was fabricated, Your Majesty,” Isolde replied confidently. “Someone altered the history of the Sable lineage, likely for their own gain. I can assure you, my powers were awakened without bloodshed.” 

Leonidas leaned back on his throne, his gaze heavy with contemplation. “A fabricated history… intriguing,” he murmured. Then, raising his voice, he commanded, “Take Lady Isolde to the Rose Palace. She will be provided with maids and guards, and an instructor will be assigned to teach her proper court manners. Duke Lucian will be rewarded for his bravery.” 

A ripple of surprise moved through the court, but no one dared challenge the emperor’s decree. 

The empress, however, did not hide her disdain. Her icy glare bore into Isolde, her lips curling into a faint sneer. “Let us see,” she said softly, her voice dripping with venom, “whether she can truly rise to the standards of the imperial court.” 

Isolde curtsied, her expression neutral. “I will not disappoint, Your Majesty.” 

As the guards escorted Isolde and Lucian from the throne room, the whispers resumed. The battle for survival in the imperial court had only just begun, and Isolde knew that her trials were far from over.

To be continued....