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Silver-Scaled Councilor raises his hand to quell the fresh wave of debate.

“Yes, we must weigh that. If she bears a half-naga child, this changes everything. The child could grow with unique abilities or vulnerabilities. It might incite further heresy if others see you forging a new lineage. Some might attempt to replicate your folly.”

I sense the trap. Fear stabs my chest. “You can’t punish an unborn child.”

A cold chuckle emanates from the dais. “That remains to be decided. The council’s laws regarding half-breeds are strict.

Typically, we’d confiscate the child, place it under watch, or end its existence if it’s deemed an abomination.

” The casual cruelty in the councilor’s voice churns my stomach.

“But we might be merciful if you comply with certain demands.”

Clenching my fists, I force myself to speak calmly. “Name them.”

The hush crackles with tension. Then Silver-Scaled Councilor intones, “We require you to hand over the human to our custody for the duration of her pregnancy. The child will be examined upon birth to see if it warrants survival.”

Rage explodes in me, tail slamming the floor with a sharp hiss that reverberates in the chamber. “Never. You’ll not cage her like a broodmare for your experiments.”

Displeased muttering ripples through the dais. Jade-Scaled Councilor’s eyes glint. “Then your attempt to spare her is pointless. If we have no assurance the half-breed can be controlled, we cannot let it roam free.”

My limbs tremble with suppressed wrath. This has become a no-win scenario: hand her over to their so-called caretaking, or watch them brand me and the child abominations. My voice emerges strangled. “If your condition is to imprison or kill them, I refuse. I’ll fight you to the last scale.”

Silver-Scaled Councilor sighs in mock sympathy.

“You truly are lost, Warlord. The council tries to be lenient, to preserve your life for your father’s legacy.

We see now you’re beyond reason.” He nods to the others, a grim finality in his gaze.

“Very well, if you will not relinquish the child to us, we have no choice but to demand your domain and your exile. And we reserve the right to apprehend the human if she reenters naga lands.”

My heart plummets. “That wasn’t the deal we agreed upon.”

They ignore my protest, forging ahead with inky quills on parchment.

The dais hums with their clipped voices, finalizing an ultimatum.

A wave of despair washes over me as I realize they’re granting me nothing.

Even sacrificing my title won’t guarantee Mira’s safety unless she stays permanently outside my borders.

I won’t see her child, won’t shield them from the council’s covert reach.

I can’t return to the High Nest or my estate.

They’ve cornered me, leaving me powerless.

I try to muster a final argument. “This is tyranny,” I say, voice shaking with fury. “You’ll turn me into a wanderer, cast out from my own lands, for loving someone you deem lesser. I defy you.”

Jade-Scaled Councilor flicks her tongue in disdain. “Defy us all you wish, but the law stands. Accept our terms or face immediate condemnation. We can dispatch enforcers to seize your estate this very hour.”

Crick, who’s stood silent near the entrance, shifts, a snarl under his breath. The guards bristle, ready if we lash out. My entire being brims with the urge to tear these councilors limb from limb for their arrogance. But that would only doom Mira and the child further.

Realizing I’m truly trapped, I let out a ragged breath. “So be it. I yield my territory, my rank, and will leave your nest forever. But keep your hands off her.” My tail coils in torment. “If she remains outside naga borders, you’ll let her live?”

The councilors exchange smug glances. Silver-Scaled Councilor answers, “If the abomination never sets foot in Nagaland, the council has no jurisdiction.” A flicker of cruelty taints his voice.

“Let your half-breed roam the outside lands if it can survive. But if it dares cross our domain, we’ll treat it as a threat. ”

My chest hammers, heartbreak tightening every muscle. So this is their final offer. Exile, the loss of all I once held dear, and a lifelong ban on Mira’s return. My only solace is that they won’t actively hunt her beyond our borders—assuming they keep their word.

Numbly, I nod, tail sagging. “I accept your demands.” The words tear from my throat, hollow and final. The dais hums with satisfaction, as though they revel in my downfall. I want to roar that they haven’t truly broken me, but all I feel is a bleak emptiness, convinced I’ve lost everything.

I stand there, battered, as they draft the decree.

They read it aloud, formalizing that I relinquish my estate and warlord title, cede all rights to the High Nest, and must leave naga territory within a fortnight.

Mira and the child remain barred from reentry, or they face immediate capture.

I sense the council’s pleasure at removing a rogue from their midst.

Once it’s done, I spin on my heel, ignoring the condescending bows offered by a few councilors.

Crick follows me out, jaw clenched. We move down the corridor in grim silence.

My mind replays the council’s edict: I can’t protect Mira or the child if they ever step foot in Nagaland again.

Our bond is severed by the threat of annihilation.

I exit into the open courtyard, fresh air striking me like an icy blade.

The High Nest’s grand spires loom overhead, once a place that might have been mine to command.

Now, it’s a graveyard of my hopes. I stoop near a grand statue of some ancient warlord, ignoring the stares of passing nobles.

My throat burns, a mixture of hatred and despair warring inside me.

Crick steps closer, voice tight. “We can’t let them get away with this. You shouldn’t accept their ultimatum.”

I laugh bitterly, tail thrashing on the polished stones. “What choice do I have? Fight them, and we brand Mira and the child targets of open war. They’d never be safe.”

He exhales, anger radiating from him. “So that’s it. You lose your lands, your status... everything.”

I straighten, glaring at the distant horizon. “Yes. I’ll gather my personal belongings and leave for exile before the fortnight ends. Mira must remain hidden outside Nagaland forever. They can’t harm what they cannot find.”

My voice cracks at the final word. The idea of never returning to the place I built, never holding my child in my estate, tears at me. But if it spares them from the council’s wrath, I’ll pay that cost.

Crick hesitates, reaching out. “And what about you? Where will you go?”

A hollow laugh escapes me. “Anywhere that welcomes a disgraced warlord. Perhaps I’ll dwell in the frontier lands, forging a new life with the exiles and wanderers.

It hardly matters.” I press a hand over the scar near my ribs, the legacy of betrayal from my betrothed, now overshadowed by the betrayal of my entire race.

He sets his jaw, wanting to protest, but seems at a loss. “I’ll follow you if you need me,” he finally says. “I owe you that much.”

The loyalty in his voice stings, a reminder that I still have a friend, but it doesn’t lessen the weight of sorrow. “Thank you,” I murmur, not meeting his eyes. “But first, let’s get out of here. I can’t stand another moment in this den of hypocrites.”

With that, we leave the capital’s courtyard, descending marble steps that echo with each beat of my tail.

My mind remains drowned in regrets. I picture Mira, presumably waiting for some sign that I’ve prevailed.

How can I face her with news that I’ve bartered away our future in Nagaland for a fragile promise of safety?

We can’t remain in the estate. Once the council’s edict is enforced, it no longer belongs to me.

And if she reenters these lands, they might seize her or the child.

We mount a small carriage at the city gates.

The driver snaps the reins, and we depart under the watchful eyes of curious onlookers.

I stare at the passing spires and magnificent arches, everything I once believed shaped the heart of naga civilization.

Now I see them for the illusions they are.

The high seat fosters cruelty hidden behind grandeur.

The road leading away from the capital is lined with thick-barked trees, red vines tangling across twisted branches.

The sun sets behind us, painting the sky in a bruised palette of purples and golds.

I slump in the carriage, feeling each rattle of the wheels as an echo of my pounding heart.

In a matter of hours, I lost everything I'd spent a lifetime forging. Except Mira. She’s outside the council’s reach for now.

But I can’t see how we’ll remain together if stepping into Nagaland again spells certain doom.

A day passes in bleak silence as we journey back toward my estate.

I barely eat or speak, ignoring Crick’s attempts at conversation.

My thoughts revolve around how to tell Mira, how to break the news that our child can never set foot in my homeland, that I must vanish into exile or risk their wrath all over again.

We arrive late afternoon, the estate’s imposing walls looming in the distance. The gate opens without fuss, but I sense the staff’s tension as we pass. Word of the council’s edict must have preceded me. A hush clings to every corridor, fear and pity woven into each sideways glance.