Westlyn isn't a complete mess, but it's far from united. Serena Feng and Prince Nolan deliberately stirred up conflict between Princess Royal Helena and Prince Derrek, just like Northlyn once encouraged Prince Jason of Riverreach to rebel. In any royal house, anyone with imperial blood has a shot at the throne—ambition is always lurking.
The imperial clan cares deeply about legitimate birth, but also not at all. As long as you have royal blood, you qualify to fight for the throne. Prince Derrek himself isn't ambitious, but the one who sits on the throne rarely believes that.
Prince Derrek has already been forced by the Emperor of Westlyn to drift toward Titus’s camp. If Titus never ascends, Derrek’s fate will be miserable. And if his nemesis Princess Royal Helena ever takes power, it’ll be even worse.
Predictably, Prince Derrek was finally moved.
“Serena Feng, the biggest regret of my life is meeting you.” Prince Derrek huffed as he left. Serena just laughed it off. When Prince Nolan came out, she asked, “Did Derrek agree?”
“He had no choice.” Prince Nolan stepped forward and scooped Serena into his arms. “You need your dressings changed.”
“Your Highness, you’re busy enough. Something this minor, let the palace medical girls handle it.” Serena said it, but didn’t move at all, curling obediently in Prince Nolan’s arms.
After several days of recovery, Serena’s bones had grown lazy. She didn’t want to move and let Prince Nolan do everything for her.
“No matter how busy I am, I can spare this much time.” Prince Nolan set Serena down on the bed, took out the medicine chest, and started tending to her wounds.
Even though they were in Westlyn and things weren’t always convenient, Prince Nolan wasn’t nearly as busy as Serena imagined—plenty of matters were handled by others. Besides, he’d already finished the important work; now he just had to wait for results.
Resistance was futile—she could only surrender and enjoy it. Seizing the moment, Serena Feng made her move: "Tomorrow, can I go to the ancestral temple too? Staying here will only split up your main force."
"No. Tonight, you and Feng Jin leave together." Princess Helena's rebellion means the Imperial Capital will be the first target—this place won't be safe.
"I can't leave. Feng Jin can go under the pretense of medical treatment, but if I disappear, suspicion will fall on you for meddling in internal affairs. Eastlyn and Lyndaria will become mortal enemies." Serena pointed to her wound. "My injury is stable. Inside the ancestral temple, there won't be any danger."
Serena refused to leave—the envoy compound was actually less safe. Nolan Dongling stared at her for a long moment, then relented: "Let the Snow Wolf and Eighteen Riders guard you in the outer perimeter."
It worked out well—Feng Jin was still frightened of the Snow Wolf, so the beast wouldn't accompany him. With Zuo An and his master, Master Graves, at his side, Feng Jin's safety was assured.
"As long as the National Preceptor doesn't mind me bringing the lead wolf, I don't care." Serena sat up straighter to make it easier for Nolan to unwind her bandages.
Nolan's finger traced down Serena's back. He leaned close to her ear and murmured, "I doubt the Preceptor has time to care."
"Uh..." Serena's back tingled so much she barely heard what Nolan said. She nodded absently and urged, "Can you hurry up with the bandages?"
It wasn't the first time Serena had told Nolan that he didn't need to fuss—he could just snip the bandages off with scissors. But Nolan always refused, unwinding them layer by layer, a true torment...
That night, while Nolan quietly arranged for Zuo An to escort Feng Jin out of the city to join Dr. Marcus Guile’s group, Prince Derrek rushed to the Imperial Palace, dropped to his knees before the Emperor, and blurted out, "Your Majesty, Princess Helena has rebelled!"
Clatter—startled, the Emperor knocked over the candlestick on his desk, spilling lamp oil onto his books. Eunuchs and palace maids rushed to put out the fire, but the Emperor didn’t spare them a glance. He hurried to Derrek: "What did you say? Helena’s rebelling? At this moment?"
Derrek noticed the Emperor’s priority wasn’t Helena’s rebellion itself, but the timing. He realized the Emperor had long suspected her, simply choosing not to act.
The Emperor had known Helena was plotting, yet still sided with her, ignoring all the suffering Ray had endured. His heart was so hopelessly biased. Derrek’s disappointment deepened. Bowing his head, he said, "I received word from the army—one hundred thousand border troops have been mobilized, splitting into three columns and marching on the Capital. Barring surprises, they’ll reach the city walls tomorrow."
Only the Emperor’s imperial tally could mobilize a hundred thousand troops. No doubt Helena had gotten her hands on it. Of course, there was another possibility—the border generals had already pledged themselves to her and would heed her orders regardless.
"Well, well, my dear sister." The Emperor’s face was bleak, but the news didn’t crush him. He forced himself calm, stared down at Derrek, and said gravely, "Where is the Grand General?"
"I am here, Your Majesty." Derrek clasped his fists and saluted in military fashion.
"I order you to take thirty thousand Imperial Guards and block Princess Helena. Remember—under no circumstances can she appear outside the city tomorrow." The Emperor didn’t seem to take her rebellion seriously.
He’d long been prepared for Helena’s betrayal. Her hundred thousand troops were hardly a threat.
"I accept the decree." Derrek looked up at the Emperor, a thousand words on his tongue, but in the end, he said nothing and followed orders without protest.
The Emperor nodded in satisfaction. "Keep news of Helena’s rebellion absolutely secret. We’ll discuss everything after tomorrow."
"As you command." Derrek understood—the Emperor wanted to use the public divination to elevate the National Preceptor’s reputation and slap Nolan’s face. But…
No one knew whose face would end up swollen.
Not long after Derrek left, the National Preceptor rushed in, flustered: "Your Majesty, disaster has struck."
"What disaster?" The Emperor looked up, face stern—no hint of how Helena’s rebellion had affected him.
"I just recalculated Princess Helena’s fate and found her destiny has completely shifted. She…" The Old National Preceptor was grave, unable to finish his sentence.
The Emperor gave a cold laugh, finishing for him: "So Helena not only lost her phoenix destiny, but will die prematurely."
"Yes, yes… Princess Helena’s fate has completely changed." The Old Preceptor trembled, bowing his head in shame—he’d once declared her fate noble, a boon to the Emperor. Now he’d slapped his own face.
Helena’s fate was tied to the Emperor’s—she’d always sheltered his dragon-qi. If she couldn’t die peacefully of old age, the Emperor’s own end might be near.
Chaos. Everything was in chaos.
The Old Preceptor dared not say more, and the Emperor had no patience for invisible destiny or the future. He needed to deal with the crisis at hand.
Even with contingency plans in place, the Emperor dared not relax. As soon as the Old Preceptor left, he issued orders: his most trusted commanders were to march on the Capital in the name of 'protecting the throne,' while loyal ministers were summoned for an emergency council.
When the Emperor first suspected Helena’s treason, he hadn’t cut her off immediately—instead, he let her rebel, intending to use this chance to purge the court and army of all wavering officials.
There’s nothing better than the crime of rebellion to cleanse the court of traitors.
The Emperor had waited a long time for this moment!