Raymond's Arrival – The Court Stirs
The grand hall of the royal palace shimmered with golden light and the subtle scent of roses. Nobles adjusted their collars, servants dashed to polish silverware one last time, and ministers whispered among themselves—because Prince Raymond Von Calix had arrived.
The son of Princess Serena, the Emperor's aunt, Raymond was the living embodiment of princely perfection. His entrance was theatrical yet effortless—tall, striking, clad in silk-lined robes from a foreign court, and with a gaze sharp enough to cut through velvet.
He bowed before the Emperor, smiled graciously at the Empress, and turned to the crowd with a poised, practiced charm.
"It is an honor," Raymond said, voice smooth as wine, "to walk the same halls where legends were born."
The court ladies swooned. The older nobles raised their brows, wary. And among them, Alex Luxembourg stood unmoved.
He stood beside the Emperor like a wall of iron. Watching.
Raymond's charm was too polished.
His every step, too perfect.
His smile — calculated.
"He doesn't just want attention," Alex whispered to Maria, who sat beside him quietly. "He's looking for something."
The Court Session – A Glimpse of a Ghost
The next morning, Raymond requested to attend court proceedings to "understand the workings of the Empire."
The Emperor permitted it.
He arrived in subdued elegance and sat quietly through policy debates and land disputes. But suddenly, in the middle of a noble's speech, his gaze snapped toward the back of the hall.
A woman. Her face was veiled. Her posture was upright, her aura commanding—familiar.
Raymond stood as if struck by lightning, eyes locked.
But when the court ended, she was gone.
"Who was she?" he asked a nearby minister.
"Lady? Which one?" the minister replied, puzzled. "There were dozens."
Raymond didn't answer. Because even he wasn't sure what — or who — he had seen.
In the Shadows – The Storm Awakens
Far beneath the palace — beyond reach of light or law — shadows whispered.
Inside a hidden chamber, cloaked figures surrounded a flame that flickered like a dying heartbeat. From the darkness stepped a veiled woman.
"The maid is dead," she said coldly. "She bit off her tongue before the truth spilled. But the tremor she caused… has shaken the palace."
"Should we retreat?" another voice asked.
"No," she snapped. "Let them breathe. Let them celebrate. Let the North believe it has risen."
She held up a wax seal — the Northern crest — and dropped it into the fire. It hissed and curled into ash.
"Because when we strike again, we will not leave survivors."
"What of the child?" another asked. "The Duchess's child…"
The veiled leader's voice became venom. "That child was a threat. But the pain it caused — that was our gift."
Then the stone wall behind them slid open, revealing a dark tunnel.
"Now," she whispered, "we have a new pawn."
That night, in the quiet of the North Wing, Maria sat alone in her chamber.
The stars outside sparkled with cruel indifference as her thoughts wandered to old scars and new threats.
Then the door creaked.
Alex entered without a word, his presence like the calm before a storm. He wrapped his arms around her gently from behind.
"Something doesn't feel right," Maria whispered.
"Because something's coming," Alex said, his voice low. "Peace never lasts… not in a place where power breeds ambition."
She turned and leaned into him.
"Whatever comes," Maria said softly, "we face it together."
Alex bent down and kissed her forehead — a vow sealed in silence.
But far beneath them, in a hidden place, a disaster was already being written.
The Traitor Among Them – Alex's Discovery
Alex stood in his private study, staring at a sealed scroll the Emperor had handed him in secret. It bore a cipher — an old one, from the days of war, used by a faction long thought extinct.
"It can't be," Alex murmured. "This was destroyed with the old rebellion…"
At that moment, Elisha stormed in, eyes hard. She threw a guard report on his desk.
"Intercepted message. A maid tried to pass it. She said someone inside the palace gave her the order."
Alex's blood turned cold.
"Then the threat isn't outside…" he said. "It's already here."
He looked toward the palace's northern wing, where the Empress resided.
"We've been watching the storm. But the fire's already burning… inside."
The Woman in the Shadows
Raymond couldn't forget her.
That fleeting glimpse in the court — the grace in her posture, the haunting familiarity in her presence—gnawed at his thoughts like a splinter under his skin.
She felt like… her. But how? That's impossible.
For days, he wandered the palace grounds under the pretense of curiosity. The gardens. The libraries. The corridors near the North Wing. Always searching. Always hoping to catch that figure again.
He even questioned the palace staff subtly.
"A lady in blue… tall, with auburn hair. Was anyone like that present in court?"
But the answers were always vague. "So many noblewomen, My Lord… It's hard to say."
Frustration simmered beneath Raymond's polished exterior.
Who are you? Why do you haunt me so?
Inside the Empress's private chambers, Elisha meticulously cross-checked the staff logs. Names. Rotations. Entry permissions.
"Look at this," she told Alex, pointing to the ledger.
"What is it?"
"A kitchen assistant named Sera. She's marked for three rotations under different names — all with high-level access."
Alex narrowed his eyes. "A false identity?"
Elisha nodded. "And she was on duty the night the maid was found. But Sera's gone now — vanished without notice."
"This isn't just incompetence," Alex muttered. "Someone planted her."
The walls were closing in.
Alex moved toward the fireplace, pulling out a scroll hidden behind loose bricks. It was the original intercepted cipher — and now, with new symbols scrawled onto it, cross-referenced with the servant log.
"They're communicating from inside," he said. "And someone in this palace is helping them."
Elisha's voice was tight. "We need to act fast. If this is another strike, the Empress and the baby—"
"We won't let that happen," Alex said, his eyes burning with resolve. "Not again."
Far from the golden halls and glowing chandeliers, deep beneath the palace's ancient tunnels, a hidden chamber pulsed with quiet malevolence.
The veiled woman — the one who commanded shadows — stood before a seated figure.
This time, she removed her veil.
Her face was calm, composed, and aristocratic— but her eyes gleamed with contempt.
The man across from her remained silent. His robe bore the crest of the royal family. Not a noble… a royal.
He lifted his goblet, sipped from it, and said coldly, "You said the Duchess was fragile. That she'd fall apart again."
"She was supposed to," the veiled woman replied, unshaken. "But the Duke stayed by her side."
"He always does," the man sneered. "Like a hound that won't die."
She stepped forward, her voice low.
"But we still have the Emperor's trust. The court listens to your voice. All we need now… is the next step."
"And the Empress's unborn child?"
She smiled, bitter and cruel.
"We missed our chance once. We won't again."
He stood.
"Then let's make sure the next strike leaves no survivors."
The torchlight flickered across his face as he turned to leave — revealing a face known to all in the palace.
A prince. A royal sibling. A traitor.
Maria stood by the Empress's bedside, brushing her hand gently with hers as the Empress slept.
She couldn't help but feel the chill crawling under her skin.
Something is coming. I can feel it.
Suddenly, she heard the softest click outside — like a floorboard under weight.
She turned quickly… but the corridor was empty.
Or so it seemed.
The palace was on edge.
The Empress's life hung under constant threat. The traitor remained elusive, and every corridor carried whispers, every glance held suspicion.
Even Alex—the—unshakable Duke of the North — was beginning to feel the pressure clawing at his spine.
Raymond wandered the palace like a man haunted. His thoughts were consumed by the glimpse he'd seen days ago in court — the woman in blue, the familiar grace, the face that lingered like a dream lost too soon.
Then it happened.
He turned a corner and collided with a palace maid carrying a stack of linens. The linens were scattered.
"Hey—!" Raymond stopped, eyes sharp. "Listen… have you seen a woman, tall, auburn hair, wearing blue—?"
The maid froze. Just for a second.
Her eyes flickered. Then, wordlessly, she pointed toward a far hallway.
Raymond followed her gaze and saw two women walking side by side, their voices soft, their steps graceful. Maria and Elisha.
He blinked — startled. Was it one of them? Was it… both?
When he turned to ask the maid again — she was gone.
His breath caught.
No sound. No footsteps. Just gone.
Without thinking, he ran toward the women. "Wait!"
Elisha turned, surprised. Maria stopped beside her, blinking.
Raymond caught up, panting slightly. "You—" he began, then stopped short, confused, and uncertain.
But before he could gather himself, Elisha's eyes widened.
She had spotted a faint, dark stain on Raymond's outer sleeve. The color was wrong. The placement was wrong.
And her instincts screamed poison.
Without warning, she lunged forward. "Maria—HELP ME!"
"What?! What's happening?!"
"Just help me take this off—NOW!"
Before Raymond could process what was happening, Elisha grabbed his collar and began pulling at his robe. Maria, though confused, trusted Elisha — and joined in.
"Wait—WHAT YOU ARE—?!" Raymond stammered, flailing.
From a distance… it looked very wrong.
Alex, on his way to check on the Empress, heard the commotion echoing through the courtyard. He ran toward it.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
There, in full view of palace staff and noble guests… were Maria and Elisha aggressively trying to strip the foreign royal.
And Raymond—confused, red-faced, shouting.
Not just Alex — the Emperor, the Empress, several ducal lords, and nobles nearby turned and froze.
"Have they gone mad?"
"Why are they attacking him?!"
Alex reached them and pulled Maria back. "WHAT are you doing?!"
Elisha pointed at the stain, breathless. "THERE'S POISON ON HIS CLOTHES!"
The air shattered into silence.
Eyes snapped to the spot on Raymond's sleeve. Alex's heart dropped.
He moved quickly, grabbing Raymond's wrist, checking for wounds. Nothing. But his eyes were sharp.
"We need to change your clothes. Now."
Raymond was rushed away. A fresh tunic was brought. The stained robe was carefully sealed and taken to the lab.
When Raymond returned, Alex faced him.
"Where did you get that robe?" he asked.
Raymond blinked. "I—I don't know. I just wore it today. I ran into a maid earlier — she was carrying something. She bumped into me and vanished."
Alex's expression darkened. "Where?"
Raymond led him to the corridor. They found nothing at first—until Alex noticed a faint glass glint in the corner. Hidden in the shadows.
A small, crystal vial, barely the size of a thumb.
He knelt, picked it up. Inside, thick violet liquid clung to the edges.
"Poison," Alex muttered. "Again."
That evening, the Emperor hosted a grand dinner for high nobles and foreign dignitaries. Golden candles glowed. Musicians played soft notes in the background. The Empress, glowing but fragile, sat beside her husband.
Servants moved like clockwork, pouring wine, delivering dishes.
But something in Alex's gut was off.
His eyes narrowed as one servant passed near him. He walked with perfect posture… but the hand grip on the wine bottle was too rigid. Mechanical.
When that servant reached Alex's table, he saw it.
A serpent-shaped scar on the man's neck.
And something in the wine shimmered—wrong.
Alex shot up.
"NOBODY DRINK THE WINE!"
The entire hall froze.
In the stunned silence, Alex lunged and tackled the servant, pinning him to the ground. The wine bottle shattered. The liquid hissed against the floor.
The scarred man laughed.
"You're too late," he spat, trying to bite down.
But Alex, faster, shoved fabric into his mouth. "Not this time."
Guards surged forward. The Emperor stood, voice thunderous. "TAKE HIM!"
As the man was dragged away, he thrashed and laughed through gagged teeth — wild, possessed.
"You think this is the end? You think we're alone?!"
"We are EVERYWHERE!"
Interrogation Room — Midnight
The man sat slumped in his chair, shackled hands stained with dried blood, his eyes hollow and wild.
Alex leaned over the table, voice low and sharp. "Who are you working for? Who gave the order?"
The assassin just laughed. A twisted sound—more growl than voice.
"Soon… this empire will burn."
Nothing more. Just that—again and again. A chant. A curse.
Alex's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked toward the guards. "Take him away. Keep him alive—but don't let him bite his tongue."
As the door slammed shut, Alex stood in the silence that followed, unease crawling up his spine like ice.
There was something they were missing. Something is already in motion.
The Next Morning
Maria sat beside the Empress, sharing warm tea as sunlight streamed through the velvet-curtained windows. Birds chirped faintly from the royal garden.
A maid entered, her presence soft, almost forgettable. She moved gracefully to the table and began preparing the morning medicine for the Empress.
Maria's eyes narrowed.
Tall… black hair tucked under her cap… smooth hands…
She remembered Raymond's words. A strange maid. A collision. Vanished.
And Alex—he had said the infiltrators bore a serpent mark.
Maria rose quietly and moved to stand beside the maid, eyes tracking every movement. The maid, unfazed, stirred the medicine, then took a small sip to "prove" its safety, and handed it to the Empress with a respectful bow.
Then she turned, offering Maria her tea.
Maria accepted it—but didn't drink. Her gaze never left the woman.
The Empress took the medicine slowly… and not long after, rubbed her temple.
"I feel… strange," she said softly, her voice already drowsy.
Maria straightened in alarm. "Your Majesty?"
She tried to move—only to find her legs numb, her arms weak. The cup slipped from her hands and shattered.
The maid leaned in close, her tone laced with venom behind a gentle smile.
"How do you feel, Lady Maria? Weak? Powerless? Good."
Maria tried to speak, but her vision blurred. Her body slumped sideways.
The last thing she saw was the Empress being carefully cradled by the maid's hands and a serpent mark on her hand—then darkness.
The Emperor's Office — Moments Later
A knock at the door shattered the stillness.
The Emperor and Alex looked up as a maid stumbled in, out of breath.
"Your Majesty! The Empress and Lady Maria… they—they're gone!"
The room fell silent.
"What do you mean they're gone?" the Emperor demanded, voice trembling.
"We searched the entire palace," the maid cried. "They're… they've vanished."
Alex was already out of his chair. He and the Emperor raced through the palace, servants and guards scrambling behind them. They burst into the Empress's chambers.
The chairs were overturned. Tea spilled across the floor. The scent of crushed jasmine still lingered.
But the room… was empty.
No Empress. No Maria.
A Letter Delivered
Just then, a palace guard ran to them, face pale.
"Your Majesty, Your Grace… a man just came to the gate. He left this."
He handed them a letter sealed with black wax. No crest. No name.
The Emperor tore it open.
As he read, the color drained from his face.
He handed it to Alex, whose hands trembled slightly as he read the words:
"If you want your wife… if you want your Empress… come meet me. Alone."
Alex stared at the paper. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
There was no name. No place.
Just a second note tucked behind it.
"Follow the crow at dawn. Bring no one. Or they die."
The Emperor looked at him, eyes dark and scared.
"She's carrying my child, Alex… they have my wife. And they have yours."
Alex folded the note with slow precision.
"No," he said quietly, coldly. "They have my entire world."
He turned to the guards. "Double the watch. Seal the palace. Nobody leaves. And prepare my horse…"
His voice sharpened like a blade.
"Because I'm going to bring them home. No matter the cost."