A Day in Febris

"You are aware that I could execute you on the spot for what you have just said, aren't you Vespasian?"
Like a steel blade through leather, a voice cut through the crisp morning air. It echoed within the hall, a titanic thing with walls and pillars of white marble. A series of large windows allowed light and air to enter, the largest of which was above the most important and arguably only structure in the room. High atop a plateau of white stone, sat a throne made of the finest wood and decorated in bands of gold and silver.
Rising from it, a tall woman. A single braid of silvery-grey hair swung wildly behind her and the purple fabric of her tunic, rustled as she al but leaped to her feet. Building herself to her full height, her face morphed into an emotionless mask, but the words she spoke were laced with power and poison.
"Would you repeat that, Prince of Magna Caria?"
The hall was utterly silent. A hundred people had gathered here today. Court officials and nobles in formal robes and in the shade of the hall's pillars masked warriors with purple tunics, the Imperial Guard. None of them moved, some even held their breaths. All eyes on the lone figure standing at the foot of the throne. An older man clad in leather armor.
Said man, appearing to be in his mid-fifties with grey streaks throughout his short, dark brown hair, did not answer immediately. He merely glanced up at her, grey-blue eyes showing indifference and shifted his body weight from one foot to the other.
Miera knew that he was trying to provoke her. Force her to repeat the question. To some, it may seem unimportant. But the most powerful woman on the planet was not ignored. The word of the Empress was not questioned. Her every order followed immediately. Any concession would be a sign of weakness. All of it part of the noble game of politics. As the silence stretched into its second minute, the older man gave in. Clearing his throat, he began to speak. His voice was raspy yet calm and not entirely uncomfortable to hear. The words he spoke were of a wholly different nature, however.
"I said, that I will not swear, upon a whore and her bastard son."
In an instant, the room's temperature seemed to drop. None dared to speak. Their eyes wide in shock and fear. Miera remained motionless. Her face a mask of steel. But in her eyes, an all-consuming fire.
"Vespasian Valerian." She had barely raised her voice, but every single word thundered through the hall. "Many would have forgiven your transgressions over the past few weeks, blinded as they are by your lineage and achievements. But not I. That veneer you clad yourself in, this picture of the noble servant is nothing but a cheap illusion. And behind it nothing but greed."
Vespasian looked unimpressed. Before the Empress could continue her speech, he interrupted, his voice calm and even.
"Strong words, indeed, my lady. Rather hypocritical coming from you, however." He lifted his right hand, until now hidden under his cloak. It held a paper scroll. "In my hand, I hold the testimony of General Galien and several court officials, all confirming the existence of an affair between the General and our dear Empress."
Outwardly Miera's expression didn't change, but Vespasian was able to make out the flicker in her eyes. Rage? Shame? Shock? He wasn't quite sure. It didn't matter.
"Furthermore", he began while turning around, showing the scroll to anyone in the room, "it confirms that Miera and our late Emperor had no contact during the time of Metachares fathering."
"There is no doubt", he stopped turning, directly facing her again, "that Metachares is nothing but a bastard child and not the legitimate heir to the throne." His eyes bore into hers, grey-blue steel meeting fiery pools of purple. "Following Vardanian law and tradition, I demand you step down and give yourself and your son into custody."
Miera's only reaction was an unidentifiable noise, part chuckle part huff.
"A nice fantasy you cooked up Vespasian. In the coming weeks, you will have more than enough time to add details to it, locked up in a cell. Guards! Throw this traitor into the deepest part of the prison!"
Her eyes met Vespasians again, and the dark glow in them would have made many a lesser men cover in fear.
"Believe me, what happened to the Usurpers is nothing compared to what you will endure."
With that said, she waited for her guard to take him away. And waited. As the seconds became a minute, she once again commanded them, more forcefully this time. But nothing happened. With growing dread, her gaze moved over the silent figures in the shadow of the pillars. After another silent minute, Vespasian looked to his right and nodded toward one of the figures. A single nod was his answer and Miera fully realized the trap she found herself in.
The guard stepped forward, and the others followed. The ones closest to the throne began to climb the steps toward her. Miera didn't move, she knew it futile, as the guard controlled every corner of the room. They grabbed her by her arms and slowly marched her from the pedestal. Once again, Vespasian's voice echoed in the hall.
"She will be stripped of all her titles and imprisoned. A trial will take place a week from now to decide her punishment and young Metachares future."
The crowd finally seemed to catch up with what had just transpired. It broke into excited mumbling, apparently no longer enraptured by the situation in front of them. Her guards stopped at the bottom of the stairs and she came face to face with Vespasian. The older man met her with a calm, almost friendly look.
"Do not worry about your son. He is kept in his room and is completely unharmed."
"I assume the Imperial Guard is not your only asset here. Otherwise, this little coup of yours won't last very long." Miera felt strangely empty. The only emotion coursing through her head being worry for her son.
"My army is entering Velaris as we speak. General Trajan let them through the eastern gate last night." She had no idea how he could look like he was merely discussing the weather with her. "Now, I think it is time you are brought to your cell."
As the guard moved her down the hall, she got one last glance at his face. The calm, almost friendly face was gone, replaced with a vicious smirk. His features seemed sharper than before, almost unnaturally so. Those two eyes, pools of grey-ish blue, now held a much darker glint in their depths and Miera, was barely able to suppress a shiver. She realized now that for all her scheming, all her preparation, she had taken this threat far too lightly. Vespasian called after her one last time and each word felt like a knife burying itself into her gut.
"I have to admit your play was masterful, Miera. Votarian, Octavian, Amelian. You played all of them like fools. Tools to be discarded once they had lost their usefulness. Your only mistake was thinking that the same thing could never happen to you."