Pyrexia's air was thick with the smell of cherry blossoms, the streets full of the vibrancy of spring. Lanterns swayed in the breeze, their hues coloring the city gold and red as merchants prepared for the influx of the season.
The mountains, veiled in fresh leaves and dropped petals, rimmed the capital in a mist of loveliness, fleeting as the delicate fall of falling blossoms.
Yet within the towering walls of the Imperial Castle, the warmth of spring did not reach.
The Mount Palace was packed to the brim, an unusual sight—every member of the Court of Ignis had gathered, all fifty of them. The reason?
A single letter.
Mine.
*I, Selentia Amaris Nyxveil, have found the Lost Prince.*
The word had spread like wildfire, and in three days, the strongest men in Wymhold stood in these halls, their breaths caught, their gazes keen with suspicion, ambition, or fear.
Ezekian let out a breath next to me, his tone low. "This is going to be nerve-wracking."
I gave him a grin, tugging on the heavy bag that hung over my shoulder. "You still have time to flee, Young Duke."
He glared at me, teeth gritted. "I don't run."
I nodded. The big golden doors of the throne room groaned open, and the herald's voice boomed:
"HEIR OF HOUSE NYXVEIL, YOUNG LADY SELENTIA AMARIS NYXVEIL, AND HEIR OF HOUSE NORDWYN, YOUNG DUKE EZEKIAN SERAPHIEL NORDWYN, ENTER!"
The sight before my eyes was painfully familiar—the same throne room where I had spent thirty years in my past life. The same golden pillars, the same crystal chandeliers, the same envious faces, curious faces, and thinly veiled hostility.
In the center of the room, sitting on the throne of black obsidian, was Emperor Perseus, his face masked. Beside him stood Crown Prince Kaelith, his bright eyes glinting with something between anticipation and fear.
Standing below them, the three Dukes and the Grand Duke were on stony guard.
My father's face was a mask—cold, unattached. Duke Zenvara, Rheon's father, looked as though he was about to laugh, as though all of this was some great drama. Duke Velmoris, Arthur's father, looked at me with unabashed anger. And Grand Duke Nordwyn—Ezekian's father—looked as though he had seen a specter, his golden eyes wide as they darted back and forth between his son and me.
Understandable. With our histories with our families, having us stand together was a miracle in itself.
Ezekian muttered under his breath, "I didn't know my father would be here."
I almost laughed. Of course he hadn't.
The weight of so many eyes oppressed me, but it was familiar. Three decades spent in this den of snakes had hardened me to that. If anything, the ease of familiarity was almost calming.
I dropped to my knees, placing the bag down with a gentle thud on the marble floor. Ezekian did as well.
"Selentia Amaris Nyxveil greets His Majesty and His Highness. May heaven's blessing forever favor your rule."
"Ezekian Seraphiel Nordwyn bids His Majesty and His Highness welcome. Heaven's blessing may ever be upon your reign."
There was a silence as thick as it was possible to swallow. Then, as the first growl of thunder before the storm, spoke the Emperor.
"Rise. Selentia Nyxveil, you wrote in your letter that you found the First Prince".
His voice was still even, but I could sense tension in his fingers, clenched around the arms of his throne just a little too tightly.
I leaned my forehead against the cold stone, bending my head lower.
"I HAVE COMMITTED A GRAVE CRIME, YOUR MAJESTY! I DESERVE DEATH!"
The entire court stood stock-still.
The Emperor's breath was caught. "What do you mean?"
"I found His Highness, the First Prince…" I paused, lifting my eyes just far enough to catch his. "But I was unable to save him from death."
A gasp of horror spread through the room.
Kaelith's face turned white. The Emperor sprang to his feet.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"
I said nothing. Instead, I opened the bag.
The figure inside was beyond doubt—Xavier's face, Xavier's physique.
The Emperor took a stumble back. Kaelith's hands trembled.
The world came to a standstill for a moment.
Then anarchy erupted loose.
The Emperor descended the throne stairs, his footsteps slow, measured, like that of a hunting cat around shot prey. His voice, when he spoke at all, was a knife hidden in silk.
"Who. Dared. To kill my son?"
I maintained an even tone, my gaze downward. "Having failed to find His Highness at Nocteim, I was returning when I became stuck in a void grave on the Sian border. I saw His Highness fight there—against Blood Hounds and Imperial Mages."
A rustle of murmurs again. The Emperor's face darkened.
"He killed nearly two hundred of them, including the entire Blood Hound unit. But the leader…" I let my voice crack, just a little. "He was too strong. His Highness perished."
Ezekian stepped forward. "The Young Lady is speaking the truth, Your Majesty. I was also there. I witnessed it with my own eyes."
The Emperor's glare darted between us, his rage barely contained.
"You'd believe the Blood Hounds had traitorously sold out the Imperial Family?"
The father decided to intervene. "The order didn't say they were to return the prince alive, Your Majesty."
The Emperor's face swiveled towards him. "Are you in revolt, Duke Nyxveil?"
Father's face didn't change. "I could never do such a thing. But I won't let my daughter pay the price for doing exactly what you commanded—spot on, at that."
There was tension in the air between them, buzzing like a live wire with unstated danger.
Duke Zenvara, ever the instigator, chimed in. "Perhaps it would be best to hold a funeral first, Your Majesty. And then…" He smirked. "The promised reward should be given, no?"
The Emperor looked as though he wanted to set the entire room on fire.
Instead, he turned to the corpse—and with a flick of his wrist, unleashed a torrent of flames.
The court screamed. Ezekian yanked me back as the fire roared toward the ceiling.
But when the inferno died down…
The body remained untouched.
Kaelith's breath caught. "These flames aren't strong enough to burn a half-dragon's body…"
The Emperor's face twisted in realization.
And just like that, the game was set.
---
The aftermath was a blur.
Nobles whispered behind their hands. Some praised my father for raising such a "capable" daughter. Others eyed me with more wariness.
Ezekian's father grasped Ezekian's arm, scolding him one minute, embracing him the next. Duke Zenvara winked at me, grumbling, "No need to thank me. Consider it payment for tolerating my idiot son."
Duke Velmoris only glared. "Don't let this go to your head."
And then, like a flash, I was riding in a carriage with Father, the tension between us heavier than the weight of the entire Imperial Court.
He was quiet until the palace gates were many, many miles behind.
"You've done something unnecessary, Selentia."
His voice was cold like ice.
I took a breath, leaning back into the window of the carriage. "The Emperor wouldn't have dared kill me with Ezekian as a witness."
Father's jaw set. "He could have."
"But he didn't."
A silence. Then, gently: "You should have saved the Prince."
I clenched my fists. "I am weak, Your Grace. That man would have killed me."
His gaze pierced me. "So you didn't even draw your sword?"
The hurt in the question was worse than I'd expected.
"I don't want to die," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Not when I know no one would miss me."
Father flinched.
"I'm not Dain or Alancia," I continued, bitterness entering my voice. "If it weren't for Crimson Abyss, would you even care if I died?"
The silence that followed was answer enough.
I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally getting the better of me. "Let's just focus on defending Nyxveil. That's all that truly matters, doesn't it?"
Father did not answer.
But as the world fell into shadows, I whispered one final thing—a foolish, feeble hope.
"Regardless of all of this… I'll go to Sylvaris. Marry a nice person. Own a bakery. Live quietly, far from all of this."
I never saw his face.
But the very last thing I heard, before slumber took hold of me, was his breath.
"Selentia…"
And then—
Nothing.
---
Little did I know…
That dream…
Would never come true.