In the dim glow of the chamber, Vivian’s trembling fingers grasped the heavy wooden chair and quietly slid it aside. Lillian’s wide violet eyes locked onto Vivian’s face—streaked with fresh blood, pale and resolute. Tears welled and slowly traced silken trails down Lillian’s cheeks.

Amidst the tension, Vivian extended her bloodied hand towards her sister, silent but insistent. Lillian wiped away her tears with a trembling hand before reaching out, clutching Vivian’s offering with steadfast trust.

Without hesitation, Vivian pulled Lillian to her feet, then dropped to all fours before the heavy door. She glanced back at Lillian, raising a brow in a silent question—an invitation.

Understanding flickered and hesitance softened into resolve. Though her heart ached, Lillian carefully climbed onto Vivian’s back, steadying herself as she balanced.

With a quiet grunt, Vivian reached up, her fingers curling around the brass handle. The door creaked open just enough for passage. Gently, Lillian slipped down and stepped through first.

Together, they emerged into the shadowed corridor beyond, the door swinging softly shut behind them, muffling the weight of their escape as moonlight spilled over cold stone and whispered promises of safety.

“You…” Lillian’s voice faltered, the weight of unspoken fear choking her words as Vivian turned toward her, face streaked with fresh blood. The sight stopped Lillian cold, her breath hitching painfully in her throat.

Her small hand, limp and uncertain, slipped beneath Vivian’s firm, bloodied grasp—both sisters bound by shared dread and silent resolve.

Vivian glanced back briefly, a heavy sigh escaping her lips as a quiet thought crossed her mind: She’s scared. Yet still, steadfast, Vivian pressed onward.

If only I could tell her everything will be alright, Vivian thought, heart aching with the impossible hope that her words might soothe the storm raging within her sister. That no matter the darkness, I will protect her, because I've sworen to myself that my sister will be my number one priority for the rest of eternity. Be it death or birth, it'll be Lillian I keep close.

Together they moved through the shadow-draped corridor, where moonlight poured in through towering, broad windows, casting pale silver beams that danced upon the cold stone floor—an ethereal glow in the hush of night.

“HEY!” Regina’s voice rang sharply through the dim corridor, slicing the heavy silence like a blade. She caught sight of the tall silhouette framed against the pale glow of a single moonlit window at the dead end. “Stop right there! You can’t keep running now!”

A low groan stirred from the shadowy figure. “Seems like I’ve been caught. Or perhaps...you have.” With a fleeting smirk, he bolted toward a narrow side passage.

Huh? Regina’s mind raced, confusion flickering through her thoughts as she sprinted after him.

“REGINAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” The scream tore after her like a wild tempest.

Shit. They’re closing in. Heart pounding, Regina dashed into the twisting maze of corridors, but the figure slipped into the shadows and vanished.

“REGINA! STOP THIS IMMEDIATELY! HOW MUCH LONGER WILL YOU PROWL THROUGH MY MANSION?” The heir’s voice thundered through stone walls, sharp as a battle cry.

“YEAH! HALT WHERE YOU ARE!” The Crown Prince’s command rang out, the echo of authority unstoppable.

Panicked, Regina slipped into a side chamber at the farthest corner, sealing the heavy oak door behind her with a soft but resolute thud.

She exhaled deeply, relief mingled with fury at the mystery man’s escape. I might have eluded them, but that serpent slithered right through my fingers!

Surveying the dim chamber, her gaze settled on a towering mahogany bookshelf lined with dusty tomes worn by age and secrets. A sturdy study table occupied the center, strewn with scattered parchments and ink quills. Along the opposite wall hung a grand, gilded portrait that drew her steps as if by unseen hands.

Approaching, Regina’s icy blue eyes traced the painted figures—two boys standing boldly at the forefront.

One, with bright blonde locks and striking magenta eyes, smiled confidently. That must be the heir of Drosnik, she thought, studying the boy’s noble bearing.

Beside him was another child, dark-haired with deep violet eyes, an enigmatic smile curving his lips. Who might this captivating youth be?

Above them loomed the tall, proud figure of the Head of Drosnik, laurel-crowned and resplendent in embroidered finery, his strong hands resting protectively on the boys’ shoulders.

To the right stood a familiar visage that stabbed Regina’s heart with icy fire—her own father, Arlo De Olvestri.

Her breath caught violently. “What?” she whispered, fingers trembling as she stared into the painted eyes of the man.

Arlo De Olvestri—though a middle-ranking noble—was a respected royal commissioner, dispatched in matters of grave import: conspiracies, murder inquiries, treason investigations. It was during one such mission into the Knightly Orders that her mother first encountered him, and that fateful union had given Regina life.

The portrait’s grandeur masked the truth’s bitter weight, reminding Regina of all she had fought to hide, and all the shadows yet to face.

Heavy silence filled the room as distant thunder grumbled, the night outside thick with portent—the past and present merging beneath the watchful eyes of painted ancestors.

The heavy oak door to the study creaked open abruptly, revealing the very youth from the painting—jet-black hair perfectly framed, his violet eyes gleaming tall and handsome with an unspoken intensity as he stepped inside.

His gaze locked immediately with Regina’s icy blue eyes. “You must have lost your way,” he said smoothly, voice calm yet commanding. “Turn right thrice from the forefront corridor, and you’ll find the banquet hall,” he offered, striding toward a table cluttered with papers, clearly his domain.

“Who... are you?” Regina asked cautiously, admiration flickering beneath her guarded tone. What a striking figure... she thought, watching him move with effortless grace.

“That’s unnecessary,” he replied coolly, eyes never leaving the scattered documents. “Return to the banquet hall immediately. I hear the guards and two noblemen are risking their lives for your safety.”

“So you know who I am,” Regina said, a mixture of curiosity and wariness in her voice.

“Please, Archduchess of Vendreich, either return to the banquet hall or retire to your estate. Both are in great peril,” he urged, his tone grave as he scanned the files before him.

Regina’s heart quickened. “What do you mean?” she demanded, stepping nearer.

Without hesitation, he moved behind the table. “Come here,” he ordered.

Caught off guard by his audacity, Regina advanced, her fingers brushing discreetly against the hidden dagger tucked within her dress.

As she closed the distance, the man suddenly seized her arms and pulled her down beside him. Both crouched low behind the table. Just as Regina parted her lips to speak, his hand shot up, clamping firmly over her mouth, stifling any sound. With one hand silencing her, the other rested on the desk, pulling a sheet of paper closer.

The door to the study burst open once more. “Cassian!” rang a voice.

“Brother?” Cassian—the black-haired violet-eyed youth—lifted his gaze from the paper.

“Have you seen a girl with bright blonde hair and blue eyes?” Evander’s voice boomed as he approached.

“Me? No,” Cassian shook his head replying smoothly, masking his knowledge. “I’ve seen no one. Perhaps check the balcony on the Left Wing, Rafael,” he suggested calmly.

At that precise moment, Regina raked her long, pointed nails across the back of his hand that was silencing her—a sharp sting caused Cassian to wince.

“Let’s go!” Evander exclaimed, rushing out with newfound purpose.

“Eh?” Rafael, the heir of Drosnik, watched his brother’s face twist in urgency.

“Alright, we’ll search there,” Rafael acquiesced, casting one last glance at the illegitimate brother who smiled slyly before closing the door and rushing off.

“HEY!” Cassian exclaimed, swiftly withdrawing his hand from Regina’s mouth.

“Why’d you do that?” He examined the red, angry marks marring the back of his hand. “Sheesh,” he muttered, rubbing the tender skin.

Regina’s lips curved into a sly smile. “A gift from me—a reminder to never make me chase after you again.”

Cassian’s color faded as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Ah, alright~” he sang, bowing with exaggerated flair. “You’ve bested me, My Lady.”

How did I not surmise it was this very boy who lured me so? Regina mused, irritation mingling with reluctant amusement.

“But I must say, your change of tactics was truly commendable,” she added, her icy gaze sharpening.

“Why, thank you! I’m quite honored, milady,” Cassian replied, his sly grin deepening as he bowed mockingly again.

“So—” Regina began.

“Like I said, return home,” he interrupted, pointing sharply. “Your children must be fighting for breath this very moment.”

“Children?” Regina spat, disbelief burning in her chest. How does he know I have children? People only of my 'child'... she thought, confusion flickering.

“I am Head of the Royal Commissioners. Do you think I’d be unaware?” Cassian declared, drawing a thick document from the drawer and slamming it onto the desk.

“Take a look,” he urged.

Lifting the heavy parchment, Regina’s eyes scanned sharp script:

“Dear Cassian,

I write to command your neglect of the following murder investigations. Do not question the accused under any circumstances. If the Emperor inquires, supply only falsehoods. Failure will bring ruin upon your household.”

Just me, or does the Empress delight in threatening families? Regina’s mind raced. She acts beyond the Emperor’s counsel—it’s no wonder her faction holds such sway, especially since most nobles shy from the capital, leaving the Emperor isolated while she reigns here.

Further down the list, a name caught her breath: Count Cernava.

So his alleged suicide was no suicide at all—forced by the Empress? The pieces fell chillingly into place. And the Crown Prince’s pursuit of me? Surely ulterior motives.

Her eyes darted onward, settling on another name, sharp as a dagger’s point: Lillian Lilac De Olvestri Vendreich.

Regina’s breath hitched, her gaze snapping to Cassian. Without warning, she turned and bolted for the door.

A grip seized her wrist, firm and unyielding. “I shall come tomorrow to prosecute the inquiry regardless. Prepare yourself,” Cassian warned, voice low but resolute. “Though I cannot defy the Empress’s edict.”

With a furious jerk, Regina freed herself and dashed through the halls.

Returning to the banquet, Regina exchanged a knowing nod with Jett. Nearby, Damien and Caspian caught the signal.

The four hurried to the stables, mounting swift steeds and galloping towards the distant silhouette of the Vendreich estate, racing against the shadows that threatened to engulf them all.

“Haah… haah… haah,” Evander panted heavily as he stumbled onto the balcony, breath ragged from the desperate chase.

Peering into the moonlit expanse, his gaze found only emptiness—no sign of their quarry. With a defeated groan, he sank against the cold iron railing, shoulders slumping.

Rafael arrived moments later, his own breath heavy from exertion.

“Haaaaah,” Evander exhaled, voice hollow. “She’s not here…”

“Seems fortune has abandoned us this night,” Rafael said grimly, leaning beside him on the railing.

Suddenly, the steady thunder of hooves drew their eyes. A glint of movement—the unmistakable figure of Regina, flanked by the resolute captains—rushing past on swift horses.

“REGINA?!” Evander called out, springing from the railing with new urgency. “We must not waste time!”

Rafael sighed, pushing off after him, the night swallowing their haste.

From the shadowed recesses, Cassian watched with a sly smile, fingers intertwined with intrigue as he witnessed the Empress’s designs unravel beneath the Archduchess’s defiant steps.

Evander and Rafael vaulted onto their horses, spurring off at a swift pace behind Regina and her contingent. Yet, just before the road forked, they veered sharply, leaving the trail of the fleeing Archduchess behind.

“Hey! Weren’t we meant to pursue Regina?” Rafael called, his voice tinged with confusion as he urged his steed forward.

“No,” Evander replied sharply, eyes darkening with resolve. “Our course has altered. We head now to the most notorious gambling house just beyond the Capital’s reach.”

The night air thickened with tension as their shadows lengthened beneath the moon, the silence hinting at darker schemes unfolding beyond the estate walls.

The gambling house was awash in shadow and flickering candlelight, noble patrons cloaked in velvet and hooded capes murmuring behind veiled laughter and clinking glasses. The air hung heavy with smoke, the sharp tang of spirits mixing with whispered schemes.

“Hahaha~” The Empress’s chorus of laughter spilled through the room like a dark melody, drawing heads beneath silk hoods and jeweled masks.

Maria leaned heavily against the carved mahogany armrest of her chair, her flushed cheek resting on slender fingers. The man standing dutifully behind her refilled her glass with a rich amber liquid, the burn of the alcohol stinging her throat as she swallowed more, already deep in the haze of intoxication.

“Oh, Nova,” Maria slurred, voice thick with both venom and liquor, “you know nothing of the sore pain Lillian’s been to me. Her death tonight… that’ll finally grant me peace.” She sneered, eyes unfocused yet burning with bitter fire. “My own daughter—a nauseating wretch who cares for neither herself nor her wretched brood. And that wretched Lillian! Worse than Regina—a million times over! What madness ever possessed her to take that child in?”

The Empress, regal and ever composed beneath the shadowed veil of her hood, sipped cool water quietly, eyes glinting with dangerous curiosity. “Oh, come now, Maria. Do tell me more. How exactly did Regina come to adopt Lillian?”

Maria laughed—a harsh, drunken bark that echoed in the smoky room. “Ahhh, that ancient tale,” she hiccupped. “I barely remember, true enough. She came stumbling in, clutching that child after the last battle something-or-other… The details escape me now, but I swear it was all… madness.”

To be Continued...