The Queen and the Lion - Chapter 10
Lysian’s resolute words shattered the faint glimmer of hope the ministers had been clinging to. Panic spread among them as they exchanged uneasy glances and began raising their voices, imploring the queen to reconsider her decision.
“But, Your Majesty, he’s a Heibanite!”
“Once might be excusable, but to continue relations with a single man while we lack a consort is unacceptable!”
“And yet, no matter if Heibanite blood mixes with mine, my child will still be the most perfect successor as Florea’s future queen. What, then, is there to worry about?”
Lysian’s tone carried a sense of bewilderment at their concerns.
Indeed, her words were an irrefutable truth. Florea’s royal lineage was unrivaled. To deny that would be to undermine the very foundation of the kingdom.
Even so, the ministers could not simply let the matter rest. If Lysian continued her relationship with Aslan and were to conceive his child, that child would be Florea’s next queen, and Aslan, a Heibanite, would become Florea’s consort.
Though the role of consort was an honorary position with no political power, it was precisely because of its symbolic nature that its honor was of utmost importance. To the people of Florea, the Heibanites were nothing more than violent barbarians. The ministers were convinced that such a man could never uphold the dignity of the position.
Despite the ministers’ concerns, Lysian remained resolute.
“I am pleased with my Aslan. You should stop thinking of him as a Heibanite prisoner and start treating him as my consort. Who knows? I might conceive Florea’s next queen with his seed. If that happens, he becomes this kingdom’s consort king. I trust you all understand that.”
“…Understood, Your Majesty.”
There was no mistaking the queen’s firm resolve not to let Aslan go. With her strong affection for him, the ministers found themselves with no choice but to comply.
The prospect of a Heibanite like Aslan becoming consort king was a dire one. Hoping that Lysian would tire of him as quickly as possible, the ministers secretly gathered to strategize. However, no suitable method to separate Aslan from Lysian came to mind.
The meeting chamber of Florea was soon filled with nothing but heavy sighs.
***
Aslan had received a stern scolding from Lysian over breaking the bed. It wasn’t the act of breaking the bed itself that seemed to upset her but the fact that he had done something she hadn’t explicitly told him to do. Though he had held his tongue and accepted the reprimand at the time, thinking back now, it felt overly cruel to tell him not to embrace Lysian in that situation.
Grumbling to himself, Aslan flopped his large frame onto the bed. The plush mattress sank deeply under his weight.
Aslan was currently confined.
A comfortable bed, a spacious, clean room—but the handcuffs binding his wrists remained, and the room was tightly guarded by soldiers. Letting the Black Lion of Heiban, an enemy nation, roam freely within the palace was a risk Florea couldn’t afford to take. Even Aslan understood their caution.
But understanding didn’t make the confinement any less frustrating. As someone who had spent his entire life freely roaming the plains, being cooped up in a room was unbearable. He wondered idly about the state of the border regions and scratched his disheveled black hair as he muttered to himself.
“I’ve got enough on my plate, so what am I even worrying about?”
Heiban was impoverished. Their invasion of Florea had been an attempt to secure a more prosperous life. Even though Aslan was revered as the Black Lion of Heiban, it was unlikely that his country would pull back their forces or offer tribute just to rescue him. Resources were simply too scarce for such measures.
Clicking his tongue, Aslan reflected bitterly. He had opposed the war from the start. For generations, Heiban had coveted the fertile and beautiful lands of Florea. That greed had reached its peak under the current king, who sought to annex parts of Florea’s territory to strengthen Heiban and expand its domain.
But such ambitions were far from easy to realize—nearly impossible, in fact. Unlike the warlike Heibanites, the seemingly delicate Floreans had proven themselves adept at sustaining their kingdom over centuries. If the war were to end in failure, the decisive cause would undoubtedly be the vast disparity in military strength between Heiban and Florea.
Aslan exhaled deeply, his frustration palpable.
