Scene: Still at the Funeral — Amara's POV
Classic 😎 didn't back down.
The crowd had quieted again. But this time, it wasn't reverence—
It was tension.
He stepped forward just enough to cut the air.
> "So you're saying the King—01 of Blackwood—was wrong?"
"You just said he regrets. That means he made a mistake."
The crowd started murmuring again. Heads turned. Eyes widened.
He wasn't shouting.
He wasn't rebellious.
He was being lawful.
> "You and I both know," he continued, "that in the Book of Blackwood Commandment Seven—'The Supreme Ruler is the Will of the Empire. His actions are never errors. His decisions are not to be debated. His silence is wisdom. His rage is justice.'"
He turned to the crowd now—addressing them, not just me.
> "And now our Empress, standing where our King should be, says publicly that the King has made a mistake. That he feels regret. That he is human."
He spun back toward me, calm but deadly.
> "You just broke the one law that binds the people to the throne.
So I ask you, Your Majesty…"
> "Should the crowd now follow your example? Should they now believe that the crown is… fallible? Should we, the Empire, now decide which laws still matter… and which ones emotions can overwrite?"
The silence that followed was a roar.
I felt the weight of every stare. The entire funeral had flipped. This wasn't about Darius anymore. This was about doctrine… about 01.
I could've lied.
I could've backtracked.
But that would've shattered me more than his question ever could.
So I took one step forward. Every B.A.M. soldier behind me adjusted their stance in unison.
My voice rang clear—unshaken.
> "I said he regrets it—not that it was a mistake."
That made Classic pause, just slightly.
I continued.
> "A King's decision cannot be undone. It cannot be erased. And it is never to be challenged. That is the law. That is the Blackwood Code."
> "But a King's heart… is his own."
I scanned the crowd again. Their faces had changed. Some thoughtful. Some still confused. But they were listening.
> "Regret doesn't mean weakness. Regret is the echo of responsibility. And only the truly powerful feel the weight of consequence. It's not a sign of guilt—it's a sign of ownership."
> "So no, the King did not make a mistake.
He made a sacrifice. One that none of you would have had the courage to make."
Classic held my stare. And for once, he didn't speak.
So I finished it.
> "The people should not follow my words.
They should watch them.
And remember that even the Queen can bleed—so that the crown doesn't have to."
The entire courtyard was silent.
And then—quietly at first—clapping.
Not thunderous.
But real.
And more importantly?
Not from soldiers.
But from citizens.
Even a few elderly heads nodded.
The press cameras zoomed in. The BBN anchors stopped reading from their teleprompters. The moment had just rewritten how law could sound like humanity.
I didn't wait for Classic's response.
I stepped down from the platform.
And for the first time in public…
The Empire bowed to a voice that admitted the unthinkable:
Even perfection… has a cost.