Michaelli considering Tuks suggestion, tilts his head. “Lord Alaric’s daughter, hmm? I believe I recall her—a demure presence at the last banquet.” He nods, his smile sharp. “Perfect. She won’t question her role, and her father will see it as an honor, not a power play.”

Tuk’s eyes gleamed. “She’s clever enough to play the part without letting emotions cloud her actions. We’ll present her as a woman of quiet virtue, embodying the empire’s ideals. The council will eat it up.”

“Very well,” Michaelli decides, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Have her father informed discreetly. He should believe this is a genuine interest from me—a quiet arrangement to test compatibility, no more.”

Tuk inclined her head, already considering the words she would use. “I’ll handle it. Lord Alaric is shrewd, but if we present this as a gesture of goodwill, he’ll keep his ambitions contained.”

He’s shrewd, but he’ll never know what we’re truly planning. Tuk’s smile deepened as she imagined Alaric’s gratitude—praise and gifts flowing her way. And if Michaelli ever discovered her dealings, she had already crafted excuses as deftly as she played the court. Didn’t he say I need to get creative? As long as the results are there, His Highness will never care.

Michaelli nods approvingly. “Excellent. Now, for the courtship. We’ll need to stage a few ‘chance’ encounters. Ones the council will see, but that don’t feel forced.” He taps his fingers together thoughtfully. “I’ll attend some of the seasonal gatherings, maybe even a hunt. I’ll ensure she’s in the vicinity without making it too obvious.”

“A perfect setting for a first meeting,” Tuk added, the scenes playing out in her mind. “And during the hunt, perhaps a moment where you assist her—a gesture that showcases gallantry.” A flicker of amusement crossed her face. And maybe start falling for her, she thought silently.

Michaelli chuckles, impressed by her vision. “You do think of everything. It’ll be a spectacle of restrained affection, just enough to keep the council engaged.” He pauses, his gaze sharpening. “And if she’s competent enough, we’ll add a touch of mystery. Perhaps a rumor or two about letters exchanged between us. They’ll lap it up like wine.”

This is starting to be a romantic plot I enjoyed! Tuk smiles, thrilled by the strategy. “And if the council senses an air of secrecy, they’ll be convinced you’re taking her seriously.” She leans back, looking every bit as pleased as he. “This way, they’ll be too focused on this ‘romance’ to question anything else. The court will become its own distraction.”

Tuk’s smile widened. “If the council senses secrecy, they’ll believe you’re serious about her.” She leaned back, savoring the anticipation. “This distraction will keep their eyes away from more pressing matters.”

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Michaelli’s gaze hardened, a shadow crossing his features. “Precisely. Let them waste their breath on courtship and whispers of scandal. By the time they realize the truth, it will already be too late—what they hold dear will crumble in their hands, and they won’t even know it was me who lit the fire.”

Tuk blinked, unsure what the prince meant. Her heartbeat quickened, though she forced her composure to remain intact. Something in his tone—cold, calculated, and brimming with an unspoken threat—gnawed at her resolve. Michaelli’s laughter, low and dark, filled the chamber, curling around her like smoke from an unseen fire.

“This courtship is beginning to sound more advantageous by the minute,” he said, eyes locking with hers. “You may bear the title of ‘love advisor,’ but we both know you’re so much more.”

Tuk dipped her head in acknowledgment, masking her unease. “And you, Your Highness, wear the crown but wield far greater power.”

With their plan now firmly in motion, they spent the remaining hours in hushed discussion, plotting each step with painstaking care. Their whispers were full of mirth and mutual admiration, bound by a shared understanding of power and deception. The council may think they’ve finally directed Michaelli’s path, but as Tuk and the prince’s laughter filled the empty chamber, it was clear they were mere players in a chest they were playing.

What Tuk didn’t realize was that Michaelli’s mind, ever perceptive and calculating, had shifted gears. The man who trusted no one had, in a matter of months, calculatedly allowed Tuk into his inner circle. But tonight, something felt different. He scrutinized his confidant as though seeing them for the first time. His golden eyes followed the tilt of Tuk’s head, the subtle grace in their gestures—the way a strand of hair tickled just behind their ear, brushed away absently as they spoke, and the spark of enthusiasm in their eyes, so at odds with the wearied cynicism of court.

These weren’t affectations; they were truths, raw and unpolished, born from moments too natural to be contrived. Michaelli’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as Tuk shifted slightly, the candlelight catching the delicate curve of a jawline that had until now been cloaked in shadow.

The prince leaned back in his chair, his demeanor as unreadable as ever, while Tuk outlined another step in their plan. Yet his focus had already drifted. He caught the cadence of their voice, the fluid way they moved, the occasional softness in their tone when they spoke. All these pieces, unnoticed before, now fell into place in his mind, forming a picture he didn’t yet fully understand but could no longer ignore.

A suspicion ignited—a quiet, insistent thought that perhaps his brilliant advisor was not a man but a woman. The idea almost made him laugh, and his smirk deepened as the visual of Leon—the head historian with his similarly soft features—flashed through his mind.

Still, Michaelli couldn’t entirely shake the thought. For the first time, he wondered: was Tuk merely clever and ambitious, or were they something else entirely? His lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile—a dangerous, knowing smile—before quickly disappearing. If there was a secret to unravel, Michaelli would unravel it. And if Tuk was playing a game, the prince vowed he would be the one to win.

The curtain had been drawn on the stage, and soon the court would witness the dance unfold, never realizing they were all part of the intricate design crafted by the prince and Tuk. Without even realizing it, Tuk's suggestions would create a significant impact—not just on individual kingdoms, but across the entire empire. In time, this influence would pave the way for women to hold positions of power, using the prince's authority and dominance as the catalyst. But that change lay in the future...

With an almost imperceptible nod, they turned from the candlelit room, their footsteps echoing with a promise: not of conquest, but of absolute dominion.

Power would no longer be taken; it would be crafted.

And as Michaelli’s eyes lingered on Tuk’s retreating figure, he resolved to uncover the truth behind his advisor. For in a world where masks and shadows ruled, even he could be surprised—and that, he thought with a smirk, made the game all the more intoxicating.

The world would learn that sometimes, the most dangerous weapon is not the sword or the crown, but the union of two minds sharp enough to wield both.