"Your Majesty," he begins, offering the minimum bow required. "We come under treaty rights to address a growing threat to human security."
"Speak," I reply, keeping my voice neutral despite the protective rage building in my chest.
"Two human women have now been claimed by Fae courts through means that circumvent human authority and legal protections," Hartwell states. "We demand reassurances that this pattern will not continue and that existing protections will be strengthened."
It's cleverly framed. They're not challenging our specific bond—they're challenging the precedent it sets alongside Kaelen's success.
"The bonds you reference were formed according to ancient laws that predate current human legal frameworks," I reply. "Laws that recognize the biological reality of omega nature regardless of political boundaries."
"Laws that enable predation disguised as romance," Lord Blackwood interjects. He's younger than Hartwell but twice as aggressive. "Magical coercion that creates the illusion of consent while ensuring compliance."
"All omega bonding involves magical elements," I point out. "Will you challenge the fundamental nature of what your daughters are?"
"We challenge the right of foreign powers to determine what our daughters become," Hartwell replies smoothly.
I can feel Elise's controlled anger through our bond. She despises being discussed like property, but she's learned to use that anger productively in political settings.
"Perhaps," she says, her voice carrying across the hall with perfect clarity, "you should consider what happens to omega daughters who never discover what they are."
The statement draws sharp looks from several lords. They weren't expecting her to participate beyond answering direct questions.
"Your Majesty," Hartwell begins, his tone carefully respectful.
"I spent twenty years in the human world," she continues without waiting for his question. "Twenty years being medicated for 'emotional instability,' restrained for 'inappropriate aggression,' and told my dissatisfaction was a character flaw to be corrected."
"You received the finest care—" Edgar starts, then stops himself.
"I received the finest suppression," she corrects gently. "Because no one could acknowledge what I actually was. The treatment for omega nature in human society isn't support—it's systematic denial until the woman breaks or submits to a life that slowly kills her."
"That's not—" Lord Blackwood begins.
"How many omega daughters have you medicated into compliance?" she asks, cutting him off. "How many have you married off to human men who can never satisfy their actual needs? How many are dying slowly in gilded cages while you congratulate yourselves on protecting them?"
The uncomfortable silence suggests she's hit closer to truth than they want to admit.
"The point remains," Hartwell says, regaining his composure, "that Fae courts are taking human women without proper consent procedures?—"
"No," Edgar Montgomery says suddenly, his voice cutting through the formal proceedings. "That's not... that's not what happened here."
Every eye turns to him, and I can see the internal war playing out across his features. Love for his daughter, pressure from his peers, and the terrible knowledge of what he's actually witnessed.
"Edgar," Lord Hartwell warns.
"She came back," Edgar continues, his voice growing stronger. "After she left him. After I brought doctors to examine her. After Professor Wells confirmed the bond could be made dormant. She chose to return."
"Under magical compulsion—" Lord Blackwood insists.
"Under biological necessity," Edgar corrects. "The bond was killing her. But she could have chosen death. Some omega do, when they can't bear returning to their alphas. She chose to live. Chose to return. Chose to stay."
The admission costs him visibly, but I can see the fierce love behind it. He's choosing truth over comfortable lies, even when that truth implicates him in accepting something he doesn't fully understand.
"That proves our point," Hartwell argues. "The magical bonding creates dependency that negates genuine choice?—"
"Then what would you have us do?" Elise asks. "Pretend omega nature doesn't exist? Continue medicating women whose only crime is being born with needs their society won't acknowledge?"
"We would have you respect human sovereignty," Hartwell replies. "Work within our legal frameworks instead of circumventing them."
"Your legal frameworks don't recognize omega rights," I point out. "They don't even recognize omega existence. How exactly do we work within systems that deny the fundamental reality of what these women are?"
