Last Dance, He Admitted

As the palace staff moved quietly, setting the dining room for the private dinner, Alexander prepared himself in his quarters, his mind rehearsing every angle he might need to maneuver in his upcoming conversation with the Emperor. The reports from Valoria had solidified his stance: Valoria would neither forgive nor ignore Triesenberg's covert operations within their borders. But diplomacy required patience, finesse. The Emperor needed to believe that Alexander was here solely to secure their alliance.

At the designated hour, Sebastian appeared at Alexander's door, signaling that the Emperor was ready. Alexander gave a curt nod, following his butler down the dimly lit hallways until they arrived at the private dining room. Heavy, ornate doors parted as he entered, revealing an intimate setting—only the Emperor and a single attendant were present, with the palace's usual formality dialed back. It was as though the Emperor had anticipated a need for candid conversation.