Frozen Flame of Dawn - Chapter 95

Chapter 95: Chapter 46: Elder’s Council_2

“Now that the decision has been made, it cannot be undone. I am not here to challenge it.”

A murmur of relief passed through some of the Elders but it was short-lived.

“However,” Yenna pressed on with her voice measured yet unyielding, “I have gathered information that concerns all of us, and I believe it is only right that the people in this room understand the full consequences of their decisions.”

A few heads turned sharply. Richard, who had remained silent until now, suddenly slammed his hand against the table.

A loud thud echoed in the room.

“Even though you were once the head of a powerful intelligence unit, it does not give you the right to spy on others, especially those who hold the same authority as you.”

His tone was furious, but there was something off about it—a hint of panic.

The other Elders exchanged silent glances as they weren’t fools. Richard’s reaction was too strong.

It didn’t take much to realize—the Riendfeld family was hiding something.

While the other members of the council expressed mild irritation at Yenna’s intelligence gathering, none of them reacted as aggressively as Richard.

It was a clear sign of guilt and when Richard realized his own mistake he let out a deep breath while forcing himself to calm down, rubbing his forehead as he muttered, “I let my emotions get the best of me.”

Straightening his posture, he looked directly at Yenna. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

The room grew tense but Yenna, she remained unmoved as her expression was calm, controlled, and unreadable.

“I do not need to defend myself,” she said with her tone cool as ice as she ignored him.

Her gaze then locked onto Helen. “I will be honest with you, Helen.”

For the first time, there was a slight flicker of hesitation in Helen’s composure.

“With all the intelligence I have gathered, I can say with certainty—after your decision, you will completely lose control of the four outer provinces.” Her words hit like a thunderclap.

Helen’s eyes widened as ripple of shock and disbelief spread across the room.

Even Henry, who had remained composed throughout the conversation, looked momentarily unsettled.

“You’re saying… I will lose control?” Helen’s voice was carefully controlled, but there was clear unease behind it.

The former Chancellor, Helen’s father, didn’t seem as flustered as he exchanged a knowing glance with the elder who had first spoken, confirming Yenna’s suspicion—some of them already had an idea of what was coming.

It was clear—some of them already suspected this possibility but Yenna didn’t immediately answer.

Instead, she shifted her gaze toward Richard Riendfeld, she didn’t say his name and she didn’t have to.

The way his jaw tightened and his fingers tapped impatiently against the armrest was enough of a tell.

“There are many within the four provinces,” Yenna said slowly, “who have already secured widespread support from the people and some of them have been biding their time for years, waiting for the right opportunity.”

Helen’s breath hitched while Henry, who had maintained his stoic expression throughout the conversation had finally looked visibly disturbed.

“They didn’t act before,” Yenna continued, “because they feared you.”

Her tone was matter-of-fact, yet sharp. “As long as Central Province held absolute military control, no province dared to rebel. Even those with aspirations for independence knew they couldn’t win. A single move against you would have resulted in their immediate eradication.”

With brief pause, Yenna let her words sink in before delivering the final blow. “But now? Now, they have the perfect opportunity.”

A ripple of unease spread across the room.

Even those who had remained silent up until now straightened in their seats while Helen’s mind raced, she had known there would be discontent and that trust would have to be rebuilt.

But she had been confident—too confident—that she would be able to reassert control once Central Province was secured.

What she hadn’t realized—what no one in this room had considered—was how quickly the power structure was crumbling.

“Do you really believe,” Helen started, attempting to regain control of the conversation, “that these people can take control so easily? That they will be able to convince an entire province to turn against us and to also make the military stationed there switch loyalties?”

Her voice carried incredulity, as if rejecting the possibility outright.

But Yenna, she just sighed filled with disappointment.

“Helen,” she said, her voice devoid of any sharpness now—just cold reality. “You still think that the majority of people support you.”

Helen’s expression froze.

“You still believe that the military stationed in those provinces is loyal to the Federation.” Yenna’s next words were quiet, but they cut deep. “They are not.”

A single heartbeat passed and then two.

Helen opened her mouth to argue, but Yenna held up a hand and said. “You assume that loyalty is absolute, that because the Federation built these military bases, because you trained these soldiers, that they will remain loyal to you.”

“But you are forgetting something far more important.” As she leaned forward, her next words slow and deliberate. “Loyalty belongs to those who can provide protection.”

Helen’s blood ran cold because at this moment, she realized what Yenna was really saying.

She wasn’t just talking about rogue leaders rising in the four provinces or about civil unrest but about something far more dangerous.

A mass shift in power and the realization sank in like a blade to the chest.

“The military stationed in those provinces will switch sides, Helen. Because while you are here—strengthening the Central Province—they are there, watching their own people struggle, starve, and fight for survival.”

Her gaze darkened. “And when someone powerful enough comes along and tells them—’We will protect you, we will fight for you’—”

She let the sentence hang as Helen’s hands curled into tight fists while she thought she had caused it with the decision to secure the Central Province first—to let the outer provinces fend for themselves—was the catalyst.

She had dismissed the risks, believing that loyalty and control would hold until they were strong enough to extend their reach outward again.

But now, she was realizing her mistake that people were not just surviving without her but learning to live without her governance.

And in that gap, there were others—those who had waited for this moment—who were seizing power, turning themselves into saviors, and rallying the people against her.