The grand bedroom of a mansion hidden behind Balmount Castle exuded quiet luxury. The soft glow of candlelight flickered over the sleeping forms of five women, their bare shoulders and glimpses of soft curves peeking from beneath fine white blankets. Each of them lay sprawled across the massive canopy bed, lost in a deep, dreamless slumber. The only sound in the room was their quiet breathing, undisturbed by the world outside.
The door creaked open, and Angelo stepped inside. His sharp green eyes flickered with amusement as he took in the sight. With a smirk tugging at his lips, he shook his head. "Looks like the prince has been... occupied."
His gaze scanned the room, searching for Lemillion. Before he could take another step, the door to the bathroom swung open, and there he was—the blonde-haired prince, droplets of water still clinging to his bare chest. His green eyes held their usual cool, lazy confidence, though there was a sharpness underneath.
Lemillion smirked at Angelo. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"
Angelo crossed his arms. "Figured it was time we talked face-to-face. Your letters are getting sloppier. Barely readable."
Lemillion laughed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his damp hair. "And here I thought you enjoyed a good puzzle. But if you must know, I've been a prisoner of comfort in another man's kingdom. The great King Thorn's hospitality knows no bounds." He gestured vaguely at the bed, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Angelo rolled his eyes. "You're too comfortable here. You should be more cautious."
Lemillion picked up a robe, tossing his towel aside without care. "You worry too much. As you can see, they're all sound asleep."
Angelo raised a brow. "Sleeping powder?"
Lemillion smirked. "You think I trust that easily?" He poured himself a drink, swirling the liquid before taking a slow sip. "Now, let's get to business. What's happening in the Imperial Kingdom?"
Angelo's expression darkened slightly. "Your names were useful. I've removed a few obstacles, the ones who might have stood in your way." He paused, his voice turning serious. "But your brother… his influence is growing. The people love him. That could be a problem."
Lemillion leaned against a polished wooden dresser, rolling his glass between his fingers. "Let them love him. Love doesn't win thrones—power does."
"Love makes revolutions," Angelo countered. "If he becomes a symbol for the people—"
"He won't," Lemillion interrupted, his voice colder now. "He's soft. He relies on ideals and noble gestures. The people can love him all they want, but the ones who hold the power? They look to me. The nobles, the merchants, the men who actually matter… they see what I can offer."
Angelo studied him carefully. "And what exactly do you offer?"
Lemillion smirked. "A future they can control—or so they think."
Angelo exhaled. "That's a dangerous game. Politicians will turn on you the moment they think you're out of their grasp."
Lemillion shrugged. "That's the beauty of it. By the time they realize I was never their puppet… it'll be too late."
Angelo didn't argue. He knew Lemillion was cunning, but politics was a battlefield far trickier than war.
Switching topics, Lemillion's gaze sharpened. "And the Reaper?"
"Still no sign of him," Angelo replied. "Rumors say he's dead, but no one's seen the body. His people haven't made a move either."
Lemillion hummed, taking another sip. "Dead or hiding, it doesn't matter. If he was a threat, he would've surfaced by now."
Angelo wasn't so sure, but he let it slide. He had bigger concerns.
"I should get going," Angelo said finally. "Getting in here was hard enough."
Lemillion smirked. "Always so paranoid."
"Someone has to be." Angelo turned to leave but hesitated. "By the way, Sara's eager to see you."
Lemillion chuckled. "Still a handful, I assume?"
Angelo sighed. "More than ever."
Lemillion raised his glass in a mock toast. "Next time, bring her along. And your companions."
Angelo narrowed his eyes. "Won't that draw suspicion?"
Lemillion's smirk widened, but his voice dropped to something more serious. "Leave that to me. Just be ready when I call."
Angelo gave a small nod before disappearing out the door.
Alone, Lemillion's playful expression darkened. His fingers clenched around his glass, his green eyes burning with quiet fury.
"My brother thinks he can charm the people… but he isn't fit to rule." His grip tightened. "I'll make sure of it."
*****
I sat at the wooden table, my legs swinging slightly under the chair. The air smelled like fresh bread and something warm, but I wasn't paying much attention to it. Instead, my eyes were on the woman sitting across from me, next to Grandpa. She was staring at us—at me, at Raphael, at Lily. Her gaze wasn't warm like Grandpa's. It was sharp, calculated. She was studying us.
Who is she?
Grandpa had brought her here and told us she'd be taking care of us from now on. But something about her made my skin prickle. She didn't look kind, and she definitely didn't look like the type to take care of kids.
She finally spoke, her voice calm but firm. "Good day, children. I'll be your new nanny."
I frowned. Nanny? I don't think she's the nanny type?
Next to her, Grandpa grinned, looking way too happy. "Thank you, my darling grandniece. You've made this old man very happy."
Grandniece? So she's family?
The woman sighed heavily, looking like she regretted coming here already. "Please refrain from touching me."
Grandpa only laughed, his usual easygoing self. "Why would I do that? Can't I show my appreciation?"
She didn't answer, but her face said enough. I looked over at Raphael. He hadn't said a word this whole time, just sat there, his expression unreadable. But I could tell something was off. He was thinking too hard.
And then he spoke. "Lily and I won't be staying here."
I stiffened. What?
Grandpa's laughter stopped, and Lily looked up at her brother, eyes wide with panic. I felt like someone had pulled the floor out from under me. He wants to leave?
Grandpa leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "And why would you say that?"
Raphael kept his head down. "Thank you for saving me, but I don't understand why you'd take us in. I don't want to be a burden."
Burden? That word made something twist in my stomach.
Grandpa's smile didn't fade, but there was something in his eyes, something sad. "I can't explain everything, but I saved you because I can't just abandon someone in need. I don't want you or Lily to feel left out."
Raphael's fingers curled into fists, his blindfold barely shifting as he kept his face down.
And then the woman—Grandpa's grandniece—spoke. Her voice wasn't harsh, but it wasn't kind either. "And where would you go?"
Raphael didn't answer.
She continued, her words cutting straight through him. "From what I've seen, you know little of the world. Weren't you struggling before you were saved? When someone gives you a chance like this, declining it seems foolish." She paused. "Have you even asked Lily what she wants?"
Silence.
I turned to look at Lily. She was staring at Raphael, her little hands gripping the fabric of her dress. "Big brother, I don't want to leave." Her voice was small, scared. But then she lifted her head, and I saw it—determination. "But… if you go, I'll follow you."
Raphael's whole body tensed. I could feel the battle going on inside him.
He took a deep breath and turned toward Grandpa. His voice was quieter this time. "Please… can we stay? I'll do whatever you ask. I won't let you down."
Grandpa smiled again, but this time it was softer, warmer. "The only thing I ask is that you become part of our family."
Raphael lowered his head. "Thank you."
Grandpa chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Raphael's hair. "No need to bow, child."
I exhaled, realizing I'd been holding my breath. They're staying.
Lily beamed, rocking side to side in excitement. "Big brother, we can stay!" She turned to me, grabbing my hand. "Isn't that great, Kibo?"
I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere.
Something about all of this… I wanted to be happy, but there was something inside me, something I didn't understand. It felt like a shadow hanging just outside my reach.
And then—
A voice.
Deep. Wrong. Curling through my head like smoke.
"Child, you will make a fine vessel…"
I went rigid.
Who—who are you?
"Kibo?"
I snapped back to reality, heart pounding. Grandpa was looking at me with concern.
I forced a smile. "Yes, Grandpa."
His gaze lingered for a moment before he smiled again.
"Well, then!" He clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "Let's get ready for breakfast—I'm starving!"
The woman—his grandniece—stood up, adjusting her glasses. "I'll handle the cooking, with Lily as my assistant. Isn't that right, Lily?"
Lily nodded eagerly. "Yes, ma'am!"
As they left for the kitchen, I let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the lingering feeling in my chest.
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees.
And somewhere, just beyond the cottage, something unseen slipped away into the shadows.