The Heiress Carrying His Heir-Chapter 67 - 68: Corvus first Test

Elara’s POV

It’s been days of getting used to Kaelen not being by my side, days since I had last sent for Lena or other maids to help me bathe or dress up, days of gradually accepting the changes in my body.

I walked into the council chamber and felt the difference immediately.

The room was the same. Long table, heavy chairs, maps on the walls, the Dravaran crest hanging above the fireplace. The same men sat in their usual places, shuffling papers and murmuring to each other in low voices.

But something was different.

Malakor’s seat was empty.

Corvus sat in his place now, at my right hand. He looked slightly uncomfortable in that chair, like he was still getting used to its weight, its meaning. But his back was straight and his eyes were focused. He had prepared reports, organized the agenda. He was trying to establish his authority, to show he belonged here.

Lord Petrov sat across from him, watching like a cat watches a mouse. He was already positioning himself as opposition. Already looking for any sign of weakness in Corvus, any opportunity to undermine him, any crack he could widen into a chasm.

I took my seat at the head of the table. Behind me, the guards at the door stood at attention. Royal guards, taking turns until Corvus could find a permanent replacement for Kaelen. They were professional, competent, but they weren’t mine yet. Not the way Kaelen had been.

I pushed that thought away. Couldn’t afford it right now.

Corvus cleared his throat and began. "Your Majesty, honored council members. We have several matters to address today."

He started with routine things. Valerium update, Thorin had returned home, no hostile actions yet, the treaty holding for now. Treasury reports, stable but strained, tax collections slightly down, expenses slightly up. The northern territories, transition proceeding slowly, Malakor’s replacement en route.

That last one led to murmurs. Questions about Malakor himself, how he was faring, whether he’d recover.

"He’s stable," Corvus reported. "The physicians say his heart was damaged, but he’s resting. It will be months before he can travel, let alone work. For now, he’s being cared for in the physician’s wing."

Petrov’s expression changed. Hard to read. Concern, maybe. Or calculation about what Malakor’s absence meant for his own position.

Then Corvus moved to the concerning news.

"Your Majesty, there have been... incidents. Over the past week, several matters have been brought to the council’s attention that require discussion."

He spread reports across the table. Paper after paper, each one detailing something that had happened while I’d been trying to hold myself together in my chambers.

"The grain storage near the eastern market was broken into three nights ago." Corvus’s voice was calm, measured. "Not random theft. Organized. They knew exactly what they were doing. Took specific high-quality grain, left the cheaper stock untouched. The guards on duty were found tied up, unharmed but humiliated. They couldn’t describe their attackers, hoods, masks, didn’t speak much."

Petrov waved a dismissive hand. "Grain theft. This happens every winter. People get hungry, they steal. It’s not news."

"There’s more," Corvus said quietly. "Two nights ago, a supply cart was ambushed on the outskirts of the city. Grain again. But this time, they didn’t keep it. They distributed it to poor neighborhoods. And they left a message."

He read from one of the reports: "’The crown hoards while you starve. The Voice speaks for the poor and the powerless.’"

The room went still.

"The Voice?" I asked.

"That’s what witnesses report, Your Majesty." Corvus met my eyes. "A masked figure. Well-spoken. Claims to represent those ’rendered powerless’ by the crown. They’re calling themselves The Voice. And people are listening."

Petrov laughed. It was not a kind sound. "Masked theatrics and petty theft. This is beneath the council’s concern. We’re talking about a few sacks of grain and tavern gossip. The city guard can handle common criminals. Why are we wasting time on this?"

Several council members nodded in agreement. I saw it on their faces.

But Corvus didn’t back down.

"With respect, Lord Petrov, I disagree." His voice was steady, professional, but there was steel underneath. "The coordination suggests organization. The messaging suggests purpose. This isn’t random hunger-driven theft. This is planned. And the timing, immediately after Lord Malakor’s collapse and the Valerium negotiations, suggests someone is testing us. Seeing if we’re vulnerable. Seeing how we’ll respond."

"Testing us?" Petrov’s voice dripped with condescension. "Or are you seeing conspiracy where there’s only coincidence? You’ve been Chief Advisor for less than a week, Corvus. Perhaps you’re eager to prove your value by manufacturing crises that don’t exist."

The insult hung in the air.

Several council members shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Papers rustled. Someone coughed.

I watched Corvus carefully, waiting to see how he’d handle this. His first real challenge in the new role. His first test.

He didn’t rise to the bait.

"I’m presenting facts, Lord Petrov." His voice remained calm, measured, professional. "Whether they constitute a crisis is for this council to determine. But ignoring coordinated attacks because they’re currently small would be poor strategy. I’ve seen what happens when we dismiss threats because they seem insignificant."

He turned to address the full council, making eye contact with each member in turn.

"The Voice, whoever they are, is building something. Creating a narrative. ’The crown hoards while you starve.’ ’Rendered powerless.’ They’re positioning themselves as champions of the people against royal oppression. Right now it’s small. A few attacks, some rumors spreading through the markets. But if we don’t address it, it will grow. These things always do."

"Address it how?" Another lord asked from further down the table. He was older, not aligned with any faction that I could tell. "Increased patrols? Harsher penalties for theft?"

"Investigation first," Corvus said. "Understanding who’s behind this and what they actually want. Intelligence before action. Then we can determine appropriate responses based on facts, not fear."

"What I hear," Petrov said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with an expression of barely concealed contempt, "is our new Chief Advisor suggesting we waste resources investigating tavern gossip and grain theft while real threats go unaddressed."

"Such as?" Corvus asked calmly.

"Such as the diplomatic damage from humiliating King Thorin." Petrov’s eyes flicked to me briefly, then away. "Such as the instability in the northern territories without proper governance. Such as the council’s confidence in leadership that makes... impulsive decisions."

The last part was aimed at me. Clearly. Barely veiled criticism of everything I’d done in the past weeks. Firing Kaelen. Elevating Corvus. Refusing Thorin. All of it wrapped up in those two words, impulsive decisions."

I kept my face neutral, my voice steady when I spoke.

"Lord Corvus is right." I said it clearly, firmly, so everyone could hear. "We investigate."

Petrov’s expression tightened. "Your Majesty–"

"This council dismissed the threat from within our own palace." I cut him off, my voice carrying the weight of authority I’d been learning to wield. "We missed the assassination attempt because we assumed we were safe. Because we thought threats only came from outside, not from people close to us. I will not make that mistake again."

I met Petrov’s eyes directly. Held his gaze.

"Small threats become large ones when ignored. History teaches us that." I turned to Corvus. "Lord Corvus, assign investigators. Increase guard presence at storage facilities, especially in the poorer districts. And I want reports on any further incidents immediately. Not weekly. Not when you have time. Immediately."

Corvus nodded, making notes. "Yes, Your Majesty." I saw relief in his eyes, quickly hidden.

"Furthermore." I looked around the table, meeting each council member’s gaze in turn. "These rumors about my ’erratic behavior’ and Lord Malakor’s collapse, I want them addressed. I want the truth circulated through the palace and the city. Malakor suffered a heart attack. It happens. He’s receiving care. I elevated Lord Corvus based on merit, not whim or favor."

I paused, letting my words sink in.

"Anyone spreading lies to destabilize the crown will face consequences. Is that understood?"

Nods around the table. Murmurs of agreement. No one met my eyes for long.

I was establishing authority. Drawing lines. Showing that I wouldn’t be questioned or undermined, not by Petrov, not by anyone.

The meeting continued for another hour. Routine matters mostly. Approvals, updates, the endless paperwork of running a kingdom. Corvus handled it efficiently, competently. Petrov asked pointed questions but didn’t push further.

Finally, I dismissed them.

Council members filed out, whispering among themselves. Some glanced back at me as they left, reassessing, recalculating. Others hurried past, eager to escape.

Petrov lingered.

He approached my end of the table with an expression of false concern, the kind that made my teeth itch. The guards straightened, watching, but I waved them back slightly.

"Your Majesty." Petrov’s voice was smooth, reasonable. "I hope you understand my caution comes from experience. Decades of experience serving this crown, watching kings and queens come and go. Lord Corvus means well, I’m sure. But he lacks the... seasoned judgment that Lord Malakor provided. The deep understanding of how this court works, how power actually flows."

He paused, letting that settle.

"I only seek to guide you away from overreaction. From seeing threats where none exist. From making decisions based on emotion rather than wisdom." He smiled, a thin expression that didn’t reach his eyes. "That’s what a loyal advisor does. Questions. Challenges. Ensures the queen hears all sides before committing to a course."

My mind translated what he said to mean. You’re being manipulated by your inexperienced advisor. You need me. You’ve always needed me and Malakor and men like us.

I kept my voice cool, my expression neutral.

"I appreciate your concern, Lord Petrov. Truly." I stood, and he had to look up at me now. "But that was why I chose Lord Corvus."

I stepped closer, not threatening, just... present.

"I suggest you work with him rather than against him. This council functions best when we’re united, not when factions form and old loyalties create division." I held his gaze. "That will be all."

Dismissal. Clear and final.

Petrov’s smile tightened, but he bowed smoothly enough. "Of course, Your Majesty. I only want what’s best for Dravara."

He turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing on the stone.

I watched him go, feeling the weight of yet another enemy made.