Chapter 51: Chapter 51: My dear Empress
Chapter 51 – The Empress Has No Mercy
In the grand dining hall of the Academy, hidden within the lavish private lounge reserved only for the special class elites, Sophie Castria sat.
The silence was sharp, like the tension in the air.
Across from her stood two men—mirror images of each other. Blond hair, red eyes, regal posture. They could’ve stepped out of a painting of the imperial lineage itself.
Isac and Albert Castria. Twin princes of the empire.
Her brothers.
"You asked to see me," Sophie said calmly, her voice poised, her face unreadable.
Isac—the colder, more calculating of the two—stared at her in silence. But Albert? He was already seething.
"Is that how you greet your older brothers?" Albert snapped, his voice a growl.
Sophie didn’t flinch. "Tell me what you want. I don’t have time for games."
"You little—!"
"Albert." Isac’s voice cut through the room like a blade. One word was enough.
Albert froze and gritted his teeth.
"We’re here to talk about your relationship with the heir of the Weaverheart family," Isac said evenly.
Sophie didn’t react. She’d expected this. Her mother had warned her already.
"What about it?"
"You need to cut it off. Now," Isac said, tone flat but laced with steel. "You were meant to align with the Chosen One—Elijah. Everything was arranged. So why are you playing house with Noah?"
Sophie’s voice remained soft. "Do I not have the right to choose who I want to marry?"
"Do I not have the right to love whoever I want?"
Albert scoffed, his expression twisted with disdain. "Know your place, sister. You exist to tie the Chosen One to our bloodline. That’s it."
"Love?" he laughed, cold and bitter. "You think you were born for love? Don’t be stupid. Your whole existence has been a pawn on the board."
He stepped closer, eyes burning into hers.
"Even that engagement to Noah was just a convenient leash to that cursed witch’s bloodline. But now? We have the real prize. The Chosen One. Elijah."
His voice dropped to a venomous whisper.
"So do your damn duty. Stop acting like a whore. You’re disgracing the imperial name."
Silence.
Then Sophie spoke. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it struck like thunder.
"I see."
Albert flinched instinctively. The power and authority behind Sophie’s voice were incredible.
Sophie stood slowly, eyes glowing red—threads of crimson lightning dancing in her irises. The air around her shifted. Electric. Dangerous.
"So that’s how it is."
She smiled, but there was no joy in it. Just pain buried beneath elegance.
"I expected this. I really did. But hearing it from your own mouths? Still hurts."
She looked at them—not as family, but as strangers.
"All I ever wanted was to be seen. To be acknowledged. As more than a tool. As a true daughter of the empire. A contender for the throne."
Her voice dropped, quiet and devastating.
"But that was just a fantasy, wasn’t it?"
She met their gazes head-on now. Their scorn, their disbelief, their dismissal—it only made her sharper.
"I came here ready to be merciless. But I hesitated... because you were my brothers after all."
She turned toward the door.
"Not anymore."
Albert’s voice cut after her like a blade. "Where the hell do you think you’re going?! You think that little speech meant anything to us?"
Sophie paused in the doorway. Then, without turning back:
"Noah Weaverheart is my husband. Today. Tomorrow. Until my last breath."
She glanced over her shoulder, voice like steel wrapped in silk.
"And prepare yourselves... because I will become the Empress."
Her red eyes crackled.
"I will have no mercy."
"And for this time, I mean it."
Then she was gone.
Silence flooded the room.
Albert stood frozen. "Did... did that bitch just declare herself a rival for the throne?"
Isac stared after her, then smirked. "Looks like Noah’s given her a spine. Can’t blame her. With a talent like his backing you... even the sky must look reachable."
Albert let out a low chuckle. "Let her try. We have Elijah now. And with Elijah comes the favor of the goddess herself."
They exchanged a look.
Let her have Noah.
They had divine backing.
Let’s see if even he can go against a god.
...
Later That Night
Sophie stood in front of Noah’s door, arms crossed. She hadn’t planned on coming here.
What am I doing? she thought. It’s late. He’s probably asleep.
She turned to leave—
—and froze.
Noah was already there. Leaning casually in the wall. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Leaving without saying hi?"
Sophie didn’t reply. She walked forward—and hugged him.
Noah blinked, taken aback.
She had never made the first move before. Not like this.
Something was wrong.
"What happened?" he asked softly.
There was a long pause.
Then, "Nothing." She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Just missed my dear husband. Am I not allowed to?"
He gently pulled her back, looking into her eyes—and saw it. The shimmer of unshed tears.
His expression darkened. His heart ached.
"What happened to my empress?" he whispered. "Tell me who hurt you. I’ll break them."
Her chest tightened.
"Just family."
Noah understood instantly.
"I hesitated," she said, her voice low. "I thought maybe I could still be human with them. But today... I realized they never saw me as anything more than a tool."
She looked away.
"So I made my decision. I’ll claim the throne—even if it means destroying them all."
The last words trembled on her lips.
Noah cupped her cheek, firm yet gentle.
"Don’t force yourself," he said. "If you can’t do it... I will."
She met his eyes.
"If you want them alive—I’ll imprison them forever. If you want them dead... I’ll kill them without hesitation."
His voice was like iron.
"So walk your path, my empress. I’ll be your sword. Your shield. Don’t worry about anything."
"Because you have me. Because you are mine."
His aura erupted. The temperature dropped. The air grew heavy.
"And no one," he said, eyes burning, "no one touches what’s mine."
"And gods?" He smiled coldly. "I’ll kill gods too."
Sophie’s breath caught.
She believed him.
In that moment, with every fiber of her being—she knew he meant it.
And something inside her bloomed further.
She smiled. Not just any smile. The smile.
Soft. Beautiful. Radiant.
She had fallen—completely, utterly.
And the world itself knew. The system chimed in.
[Sophie’s feelings for you have reached 90%.]
Then—
{Ding!}
{Your emotions and resolves have been acknowledged.}
{Your love is genuine.}
{Title granted: The Loving Husband.}
{Your existence has been strengthened.}
And in the quiet glow of that moment, beneath divine recognition and mortal resolve—
The Empress and her Husband stood together.
Unshakable.
Unstoppable.
—End of Chapter 51—