Meanwhile, in a densely packed forest full of towering redwood trees.

"Your Divine Majesty, you didn't have to go this far and do this yourself. You could have simply ordered the Wraiths to retrieve the prince safely—" A figure shrouded in shadows slowly trudged, approaching another figure with a ridiculously huge hood, donned in luxurious robes beneath.

"No. I have to confirm myself that he's safe. I need to know that he's intact, both physically and in reasoning."

The hooded figure pulled back the robe, revealing four sets of ivory horns underneath, as well as a long silky black hair hanging loose as its stray wisps danced along the night breeze's gentle bliss. Half her face was covered in a translucent black veil, yet it wasn't enough to diminish her strong, elegantly seductive charm.

"Will that Antares keep his promise?" Another shadowed figure muttered.

"He'll have to. I offered a deal he can never resist." The female Adonis replied. Just as she finished speaking, a loud explosion resounded and partially shook the dense forest. Soon enough, flaming orange embers illuminated the moonlit night as grayish-white smoke turned the air heavier.

She silently gazed at the full moon, barely visible through the dense leaves. She knew that Antares has started to break in, and his wild manner of rescuing left her chuckling softly.

"Truly chaotic."

It wasn't long until bustling of bushes became consistently evident as it drew closer to where the hooded figures were. The Wraiths slowly drew their swords and positioned themselves in a wary stance.

Antares soon appeared, his face illuminated by the stray rays of moonlight, further illuminating his signature amethyst eyes and bronze skin.

On his arms was Kaisellin, unconscious and injured with a dagger piercing his left shoulder. It seems he hasn't taken it out after impaling him earlier.

"I've taken him out has promised, Navier." Antares lacked the etiquette that befits an address to a high noble, speaking vulgar words.

But Navier wasn't a mere noble.

She gazed condescendingly at Antares behind her translucent veil. "Address me again, baby lizard."

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They stared at each other without breaking contact. Antares broke it first, averting his gaze when she started mentioning nicknames.

"...I have brought him, Your Divine Majesty, The Lord of Abyss." Antares spoke hesitantly.

Navier gently took Kaisellin from his arms, holding him like the most precious work of glass there is.

"Why did you wound him?"

"He's immune to sedatives. But I had to make him sleep, or else I'd be troublesome taking him up the stairs."

"Naughty child." She scoffed, sizing hum up and down in feigned suspicion.

She took the dagger out swiftly, painlessly, as the wounds started to heal itself instantly.

She then tightly embraced Kaisellin as one of the hooded figures wrapped an obsidian blanket around his unconscious body.

She turned around as the one of the Wraiths conjured an illusory door for The Lord, Navier, to pass through.

"Keep your promise, Lord of Abyss."

"Worry not, little one. I have only ever broken one promise, and that was to my own blood. Even then, it cost a thousand lifetimes to redeem."

She left for the dimensional passage without as much as looking back at Antares.

She gently pulled Kaisellin in a tighter embrace, frowning gently. Her lips were trembling as she closed her eyes and let tears warm her cheeks amidst the cold air of the illusory door's space.

The Wraiths silently watched the Lord with subtly prying eyes. Navier gazed at Kaisellin's delicate figure in her arms—specifically, she was looking at his obsidian blindfold.

She was gazing at it as if it was the true exquisiteness of the porcelain that was Kaisellin. Her lips slowly drew a curve as she, very gradually, chuckled dryly, her voice chillingly echoing through the night's somber melody.

Very subtly, she whispered;

"You have finally...finally returned to my arms, my dear Nightling."

Soon enough, they reached the deepest chambers of the majestic palace of Abyss, where the Lord resides.

Towering as if reaching towards the crimson moon, ornated and detailed with exquisite architecture. It had a subtle aura of a myth upon a glance, its structure dating back from the primordial times.

Beneath these majesties were ministers petitioning, yelling in sync, begging with their knees to the ground, pleading to the Lord.

They all chanted; "We plead for your boundless grace, Oh Great Mother of Abyss! We dare ask you to renounce your creed! Please consider the punishment of the first prince on behalf of all the previous descendants punished with treason!"

"Please enact the execution of the first prince, son of the previous Prince Consort!"

"Please show no mercy! He is no longer your son, but a traitorous subject!"

Their voices were thunderous and desperate, as if threatening to shaken the entire palace.

With Prince Kaisellin still in her arms, she continued pacing at moderate speed and carried him all the way to her bedchambers.

Standing beside the door with his head bowed is the Lord's seneschal, Rigel.

"I greet Your Majesty."

"Dispose of all the Wraiths who accompanied me tonight. Not a single soul must know I found the prince in such a pitiful state. No one else shall bring him into the royal feud but me."

"Understood." Without as much a sound of his footsteps, he left the room without further ado.

She gently released him and covered him with a thick blanket, clearing his stray wisps from covering his blindfolded face.

Silently, she headed to her desk where makeshift boardgame pieces stood still in place, with a glass of fine wine placed at the left side of the black marbled table embedded in gilded streaks. Sitting in her reclining chair adorned in black cushion, Navier lightly twirled her glass of wine and took a sip.

She took a particular glass piece that was outside the wooden board—one shaped like an hourglass with fine gear-like details and placed it at the center of the checkered wooden battleground.

"Rest well, little Nightling." She melodiously whispered, as though softly humming as she gazed intently at the full crimson moon in the starless sky.

'Let mother take care of the rest.'

Never have a lullaby that was supposed to soothe a child to sleep been sung so dreadfully tranquil that one may never awaken upon hearing it; echoing along with the reverberating chaotic pleas from outside the palace.