Chapter 76 - The Weight of a Crown
After the grim task of interring the remains of the fallen across the entirety of Hot Sand Island, I returned to Saint Yegana. Upon my arrival, I found my brother shrouded in a persistent, suffocating gloom. When I pressed him for the cause of his melancholy, he claimed everything was fine, insisting he was merely preoccupied with the impending campaign against the Resurrection Sea.
At first, I accepted his word, but the truth soon trickled down from the Council elders. The war my brother faced was not merely against the Storm Party; he was besieged by a rising tide of opposition within the Saint Yegana Council and the conservative factions of the Light Sea Temple.
Centralized authority in Saint Yegana had been a ghost of a concept for over three million years. Before my brother’s meteoric rise, the Seven Seas had operated as independent fiefdoms, ignoring the capital’s commands. Now, the Council sought to hobble him, clinging to a millennia-old decree that restricted the supreme military command of the Predator Race to a mere five-twelfths of the Glazed Legion. The Arbitrators remained obstinate, the High Judges turned a blind eye to the injustice, and the Light Sea Temple—led by the Great Oracle—remained fanatical proponents of Sea God supremacy.
Usually, my brother met adversity with a defiant, almost infectious optimism. I had seen him hunted by enemy fleets until only seventeen soldiers remained, trapped in a lightless sea cave for eighty-three hours without a glimmer of hope, yet he had never stopped searching for a solution. But this time, faced with the intractable wall of racial prejudice, he remained silent. He refused to discuss the matter with anyone, retreating into a cold, impenetrable shell.
Eventually, his subordinates could no longer endure the stalemate. During a high-level strategy session, one official spoke with blunt desperation: "Lord Dictator, you must marry Princess Fengjin."
At the mention of her name, Anu’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with a sudden, haunting grief. He parted his lips as if to protest, but no sound emerged.
The suggestion acted like a spark in a powder keg. "Indeed!" another voice chimed in. "Lord Dictator, as the daughter of the former Dictator, Princess Fengjin’s father has been your most vocal supporter since the election. And the Princess herself... her feelings for you are no secret. An alliance with her doesn't just secure the Winter Sea; it grants you the status of a high-tier Sea God through the Sainti Clan. Those old fossils in the Council won't be able to touch us then."
"I concur," added another. "You’ve known her for years. Why hesitate?"
Laughter rippled through the hall. "You lot clearly don't understand our Lord Su Shiye. Princess Fengjin is a beauty, but our Dictator is a man of peerless grace himself. A man like that doesn't seek the shackles of stability as easily as a woman might. As a fellow man, I understand him perfectly."
"Who says marriage means settling down? She knew he had Orca blood when she fell for him. She’s a sensible woman; she won't be troublesome."
The hall was filled with a cacophony of political calculations and ribald jests. I watched my brother, my head swaying back and forth like a cat mesmerized by a toy, curious yet hesitant to speak. He looked utterly drained. Finally, he cut through the noise with a voice like cracking ice.
"Enough. I will not marry Sainti Fengjin. Find another way."
When the session concluded, the vast hall felt hollow, occupied only by my brother, myself, and my silent maid.
"You won't marry her?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief. "After everything we’ve sacrificed to get here... you’re saying no?"
"Yes." He stared out the window at the shimmering currents of the capital, his face a mask of indifference.
"You must be joking," I said, my voice rising an octave. "We are on the precipice of total victory. With this marriage, you could reclaim the Winter Sea without shedding a single drop of blood! Are you sleep-deprived? Has your mind finally snapped?"
His brow furrowed. "I will not achieve our dreams through a marriage bed. That is not my style."
"Lord Dictator, the Storm Sea has already declared war!" I shouted.
"I don't understand why you are so obsessed with this," he countered. "I possess the Aether Body now. I no longer require the validation of the other Sovereigns."
"I cannot believe I’m hearing this from you! Without a Sovereign’s backing, you will never truly command the Glazed Legion. Do you think the Light Sea Federation is some fairy-tale kingdom where merit alone suffices?"
"There will be a way, Li'er. Do not push me."
"It’s just a marriage! To the most prestigious woman in the Resurrection Sea, who happens to be devoted to you! Is she really so repulsive?"
"I feel only the affection of a brother for her."
"And did I feel 'love' for Qiusha?" I hissed.
"Did I force you to marry him? I was against it from the start! You were the one who insisted!"
The words hit me like a physical blow. My heart felt as though it had been lanced, my vitality draining away with the phantom sting. I forced myself to remain calm, though my voice shook. "Fine. You didn't force me. But if you found my help so distasteful, why didn't you say so sooner? Why wait until you had the Aether Body and the power of the state before telling me you only marry for love? You make me feel like a villain—a low, calculating woman who used her own marriage as a pawn to put you on that throne. I suppose you’re the only one who gets to remain pure and noble."
"That isn't what I meant. Calm down."
I pressed my palms to my throbbing temples, exhaling a stream of bubbles. "I am calm. Speak."
"Li'er, I know how much you've done. I am moved by it, truly. But I cannot do this. I’m sorry."
"You just don't want to be tied down by one woman. I get it. But it doesn't matter. I’ve spoken to Fengjin. I asked her if she could accept a harem, and she was perfectly reasonable. She said a Dictator could never be expected to have only one woman, and she would manage your household for you."
He let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Then she truly knows how to degrade herself."
"Lord Dictator, watch your tongue! I will not have you speak of her that way!"
His patience finally snapped. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and fell into a stony silence. I was equally incensed. After a few moments of heavy breathing, I spoke again. "Too many have died for this, Brother. You cannot afford to be selfish anymore."
"I understand. I will consider it."
My maid, who had been a shadow in the corner, whispered softly, "Lord Dictator, Academician Su Yi is right. You are the master of this sea. Once you have a primary wife to satisfy the clans, who could stop you from taking whatever lovers you desire?"
"Is that so?" he murmured tonelessly.
"Of course," I added. "You have a thirst for conquest, both for territory and for women. We understand. Whatever woman you truly want, I will help you secure her."
"Any woman?"
"Any woman."
After he assumed the role of Dictator, I moved into the White Eagle Palace. From that day on, I frequently invited Fengjin over, intentionally steering the conversation toward romance whenever my brother was present. Fengjin had always adored him, and now that he was the Dictator—a more decisive, powerful version of the man she knew—her devotion had only deepened.
My brother’s response was unfailingly polite, yet it was a politeness that acted as a barrier, keeping her at a cold distance. Whenever I tried to spark an intimate moment, he would find an excuse to leave. I was frustrated. I liked Fengjin; she was the perfect sister-in-law. I feared that if he married someone else, I would become the quintessential bitter sister-in-law.
So, I decided to force the issue.
One evening, I hosted a gathering at the palace with Fengjin, Yejia, and Xun-yue. When my brother returned, I ushered the others away, leaving him alone with Fengjin. I even went so far as to swipe their communication devices and lock the doors.
But my scheme backfired in the most unexpected way.
In the lounge, the usual social dynamics played out. Yejia was the center of attention, occasionally tossing a sharp remark my way. Xun-yue watched us, her chin resting on her hand. "Su Yi," she said softly, "in your haste to play matchmaker for your brother, have you forgotten that someone else might be a bit too concerned about you?"
"Huh?" I tilted my head, confused.
Yejia’s ears turned a vivid crimson. He looked as though he wanted to speak but thought better of it, instead turning to a Predator girl nearby. "Darling, you look lovely today. Is that a new hairstyle?" The girl was instantly smitten.
Xun-yue chuckled behind her hand. "We all know the Storm Party and the old guard are failing. Now that Garth Xitian is no longer a threat, why wouldn't someone want to secure ties between the Red Moon Sea and Saint Yegana? Becoming family is the quickest route, after all."
"Too direct, Xun-yue. Far too direct," Yejia grumbled, looking pained.
I burst out laughing. "Are you suggesting I adopt Buke Yejia? I’m far too young to have a daughter that old."
Yejia smirked. "Even if I were to be adopted, I’d want a sexy mother, not a tomboy like Su Yi. Besides, I already have a father."
"Two fathers wouldn't be so bad," I teased.
"You woman!" Yejia sputtered, bubbles erupting from his mouth. "You are truly...!"
"Fighting is just another form of flirting! Just get together already!" a boy shouted. Amidst the cheering, my friends surged forward, shoving me into Yejia’s arms. He stumbled back, instinctively catching me by the waist. The momentum pinned him against the wall, making it look as though I were the one accosting him. I looked up into his deep violet eyes, which had darkened with an unfamiliar intensity. He didn't push me away; he simply averted his gaze, letting me lean against him.
The cheering grew deafening.
I was about to push off the wall when a massive hand clamped onto my arm and yanked me away.
"Ow, that hurts..." I winced, rubbing my wrist, only to see my brother standing there, his face a mask of cold fury. "Why are you out? Where's Fengjin?"
Fengjin stood behind him, her angelic face clouded with worry.
"You’ve gone too far today. Go to your room," he said. The anger radiating from him was palpable.
"But my friends—"
"I will see them out. You. Room. Now."
I admit, even at my age, I was still afraid of him. I stormed off to my bedroom, fuming, and refused to come out even for dinner.
That night, I was drifting in a fitful sleep when I felt something soft press against my lips, prying them apart. I frowned, trying to push the intruder away, but my wrists were pinned to the headboard. A deep, invasive kiss jolted my nervous system into full consciousness. I struggled, but the person held me with terrifying strength, their heavy breathing echoing in the silent room.
My first thought was an assassin or a thief. I tore my mouth away and screamed for help. I could hear the servants moving in the hall outside, but no one came. In that moment, the realization hit me like a physical weight.
"...Brother?" I hadn't called him that in years.
"It’s me."
In the distance, a flash of arcane light from the night sea flickered through the window, illuminating his face for a fraction of a second. I couldn't process what was happening. "Why... why are you doing this?"
"You said it yourself," his voice was a low, jagged rasp. "You said you’d help me get any woman I wanted. I want you."
I couldn't believe my ears. "What are you saying? I must have misheard..."
He didn't explain. He simply lowered his head again, claiming my mouth in a long, suffocating kiss. My wrists were held fast; my body trembled with every touch, my skin crawling as if electrified. My consciousness was melting into a slurry of terror and confusion.
I wrenched my head to the side. "Stop! Have you lost your mind?!"
"Yes, I’ve lost it," he growled, gripping the back of my neck to force me back to him. Tears began to flow.
"No, please... don't..."
He ignored my pleas, tearing at my collar. "I’ve been mad for a long time. Didn't you notice?"
"Don't, Brother, please..."
In the lonely silence of the night, there was only the sound of rushing water, the tearing of fabric, my muffled sobs, and his voice, laced with a dark, simmering resentment. "You were so eager to push me onto Sainti Fengjin. Was that game fun for you?"
"I wasn't... it was for the mission... I was just trying to help you two..."
"Do you think I need you to manage my heart?" He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "I can't even manage my own feelings. What makes you think you can?"
My clothes were in tatters. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to shield myself. "Brother, I... I was wrong. I’ll never interfere in your marriage again. Please, just stop..."
"It’s too late for pleas. You truly provoked me today. I am the Dictator of the Light Sea now. In Saint Yegana, my word is law. I will take you here, tonight, without a silence ward. Let everyone outside hear. Let’s see who dares to stop me."
As he forced himself upon me again, I finally broke, sobbing uncontrollably, my fingernails digging into the skin of my own arms. He paused for a moment, his breath hitching as if he felt a flicker of remorse, but he quickly hardened his heart. He pried my hands away. "Crying won't help. I’ve done so much for you, killed so many people... do you think I’d just hand you over to another man? Never. You will be my woman. You will stay in the White Eagle Palace for the rest of your life, raising our children. You will see no one. You will go nowhere."
Then, he used his arcane power to manifest an air pocket, enveloping the bed. As the water vanished, our bodies shifted into their land-dwelling forms. What followed was a nightmare I would spend years trying to bury.
Afterward, I couldn't even look at him. I buried my face in the pillow. "Enough... you don't mean this. My research is vital to the Light Sea. Don't be so short-sighted..."
"Research? So more men can look at you? I don't give a damn about your research. From now on, you stay here. You sleep with me. You bear my children. You do nothing else."
I lay there in a daze for a long time. These words—this dehumanizing, insulting rhetoric—came from the man who had always reserved his only gentleness for me. I truly did not recognize him anymore.
"If you want me as a trophy, fine," I said, my voice dead. "But I will not enter your harem. I gave my virtue to you; consider it a sacrifice for the Light Sea."
He froze. "...You and Qiusha never...?"
"Never."
"Rest assured," he said, his tone suddenly sharp as he pulled away. "I will only ever have one wife. And no one will ever make that decision for me again."
After he left, I curled into a ball on the edge of the bed, clutching the remnants of my clothes, and wept silently for over an hour.
From that day on, he kept me prisoner. I didn't scream or protest; I simply lay in bed, refusing to eat or drink, like a living corpse. He tried to force me to eat, smashing plates in his fury when I refused. We were locked in a cold war for thirteen days. Eventually, hunger drove me to sneak food in the dead of night, but I maintained the facade of a hunger strike during the day.
To appease me, the steward brought a bouquet of pink roses from the surface, acting on my brother's orders. She explained that humans gave flowers as a blessing, much like we gave algae. The roses sat on my cabinet. One afternoon, the steward’s young son came in and asked for a flower to play with. Thinking it was food, he poked the petals with his finger, then licked the outside. Finding no taste, he used his tongue to part the petals, reaching deep into the heart of the flower to lick the stamen.
I watched him, paralyzed with a sudden, visceral revulsion. He licked the inside of the flower repeatedly, looking confused. "Sister Su Yi, what is this?"
"It’s a plant from the land," I whispered.
The sight triggered a wave of trauma so intense I wanted to die. I thought of that night, of how I had tried to push my brother away to no avail... how could he do something so... so utterly shameless?
It was disgusting. Beyond forgiveness.
During my imprisonment, the Sainti Patriarch issued a final ultimatum. In a televised interview, she stated that the Winter Sea sought only peace and had no desire to interfere in the struggle between the Saint Capital and the Storm Party. However, she promised full support for her future son-in-law’s career. As for who that son-in-law was, she claimed the world would soon know.
It was a brilliant move—a public negotiation using her daughter as the ultimate bargaining chip.
I spoke with Fengjin privately over the phone a few times. She expressed no resentment toward her parents' arrangement. She had once told me that her parents were the perfect model of a political marriage. From her birth to her father’s death, she had never seen them share a bed. They had spent their lives projecting the image of an inseparable, elite couple, and that philosophy had shaped her. Now that her father was gone and the Sainti Clan’s power was waning, she saw it as her duty to marry a man who could preserve their glory.
"But don't you love my brother?" I asked, feeling a pang of sorrow.
"I do," she replied with a heartbreaking calmness. "He taught me what it feels like to love someone. But marrying for love is a luxury not everyone is afforded. For a High Princess of the Holy Sea, marrying a man who can sustain our legacy is more important."
Fengjin was the embodiment of grace, beauty, and breeding. Among the "God-kin" of the seven clans, she was the light that made all other girls seem like shadows. She was the ideal goddess.
The public was obsessed with the drama. Who would be the lucky man? The Dictator of the Light Sea or the Prince of the Garth Clan? Interestingly, the Garth Patriarch suggested his third son as a match, notably bypassing Xitian. Why the "Crown Prince" of the Storm Sea didn't seize the opportunity for such a powerful alliance was a mystery no one dared to investigate.
Compared to Fengjin’s selfless perspective, I felt childish. And my brother’s stubbornness only made me more resentful.
Seeing me waste away, my brother finally surrendered.
"When will you finally eat?" he demanded, standing over my bed.
"Two things," I whispered, looking like a ghost.
"Speak."
"First, my freedom."
"Fine."
"Second, marry Fengjin."
For a long time, the only sound was the indifferent pulse of the ocean currents. Finally, he spoke.
"Fine. I will marry her."
The conversation was rational and mature, a far cry from the blood-soaked melodrama of that night. But I knew that the final string—the last bond of our shared history—had snapped.
***
