Xemena stepped aside with one of her female assistants, her expression sharp and purposeful. In a hushed tone, she instructed her to fetch Dragon, the leader of the Xargian Guard, to bolster security measures. Afterward, she retrieved the dagger from Niles’s coat, concealing it discreetly beneath her dress, slipping it into the waistband of her leggings. Once prepared, she smoothed her gown and reentered the bustling dance hall.
Zacharias, the first prince of Zairule—Snake Eyes, as Niles had dubbed him—made his approach. His slit-like eyes appeared almost closed, but the smug smile curling his lips betrayed his confidence.
“My warmest regards to the radiant princess,” he began, his voice honeyed and smooth. “You look as though you’ve descended from the heavens themselves.” His words dripped with flattery, his every sentence carefully polished.
“What a magnificent celebration. My people and I are truly honored to have been invited,” he continued, bowing low. “And congratulations are in order for the successful summoning of champions from another realm. A remarkable feat, indeed.”
His tone, though courteous, carried a subtle edge, each phrase meticulously designed to praise while steering clear of any confrontation. Xemena met his gaze, unflinching, fully aware of the history they shared and the calculated precision in his every word.
“What do you want?” Xemena asked, her tone clipped, her attention barely grazing him.
“Oh my,” Zacharias replied, feigning shock as a smirk curled his lips. “Is that truly how a princess of Xandria greets a guest? How improper.” He spread his arms in mock confusion, his expression a picture of exaggerated innocence. “Or perhaps you’re still upset about me canceling the engagement?”
“Relieved,” Xemena answered coldly, her voice as sharp as a blade.
The directness of her reply seemed to sting, and for a moment, something shifted in Zacharias. His eyes, usually slitted and unreadable, cracked open just enough to reveal a faint glimmer of irritation. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said smoothly, though the undertone in his voice suggested otherwise.
Without elaboration, he extended a hand toward her. “Might I have the honor of asking you for a dance?”
Xemena’s scarlet eyes narrowed in suspicion, her gaze judging him with ruthless precision. “Why?” she asked, her tone flat, making no effort to mask her lack of interest.
“To restore your honor,” Zacharias replied, his voice laced with what almost sounded like sympathy. “We can’t have the reputation of the most beautiful princess in the realms sullied by having just danced with a banished outsider, can we?”
“I agree,” Xemena said, her voice calm but piercing as she locked eyes with Zacharias. She pushed off the wall she had been leaning against, her posture commanding. Nearby, Xander stood quietly, his gaze fixed on their exchange, observing every nuance.
Zacharias, ever composed, offered a charming smile as he extended his hand, clearly expecting her to take it and accompany him to the dance floor.
“Then bring me a man who’s honorable,” Xemena said sharply, her tone dismissive.
The words hit like a whip crack, and Zacharias froze. His smile faltered, and he straightened slightly from his slight bow. “I... I’m sorry, Princess. I don’t understand,” he said, his voice betraying a flicker of unease.
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By now, a small crowd had begun to gather, their curious whispers rippling through the room like a low tide. The murmurs grew louder, speculating that the Princess of Xandria had just rejected the First Prince of Zairule for a dance.
Xemena didn’t reply. Her silence hung heavy in the air, the weight of her unspoken words more damning than anything she could have said aloud.
Zacharias shifted uncomfortably, his composure cracking under the scrutiny of the onlookers. The growing tension made his smile seem forced as he finally straightened, chuckling softly, then breaking into a dry laugh. “Ah, thank you, Princess. Your sense of humor always lightens any room,” he said, his tone strained but polite. “Once again, thank you for your hospitality. Let’s pray we both enjoy the rest of this splendid evening.”
With that, he gave a slight bow and turned, walking away with forced dignity.
Xemena remained still, her arms crossed, watching him retreat until he disappeared into the crowd. Only then did she take a slow, measured breath.
Xander stepped forward, his expression unreadable except for the faintest curve of his lips—an almost-smile.
“That felt good,” Xemena said with a small, satisfied smile, glancing at her brother.
Xander tilted his head slightly. “Shall we join our brother at the feasting table?”
“Sure,” Xemena replied, her tone lighter now as they moved to rejoin the festivities.
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Xemena's assistant moved swiftly through the courtyard toward the moat bridge, her steps light and purposeful. Passing the stables, she was stopped by a voice—kind, yet slightly too eager.
“Evening, young maiden,” said one of the guards, it was Felix’s follow moat guard friend, his tone casual. “What brings you out here at this hour? Shouldn’t you be enjoying the ball?”
She turned to face him, offering a polite smile as though speaking to an old friend. “Just a night stroll. The duties of court life can be rather draining.”
The guard nodded, falling in step beside her. “Aye, that’s true enough. Are you headed anywhere in particular?”
“Perhaps to enjoy the city lights,” she replied, her tone light, though she didn’t slow her pace.
“Anyone you’re planning to meet?” he asked, pressing just slightly.
“None that I have in mind,” she said, keeping her voice neutral.
The guard shrugged, his posture easy. “Fair enough. Just thought I’d check since the Xargian Guard has returned to the barracks tonight. They handled some incidents in the city earlier, but it’s all quiet now.”
The assistant paused briefly, her expression measured. “I see. Thank you for the information.”
The guard gave a small sigh. “Don’t let their beast helmets intimidate you. They’re not as dangerous as they look. I’ll walk you to the barracks—just to be safe.”
She hesitated for a moment, then inclined her head. “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”
The two continued toward the barracks, their conversation soft and unassuming in the cool night air.
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At the moat bridge, Felix was keeping watch, munching on a pastry Niles had brought him earlier. He had been meaning to check on his fellow guard friend and share some of the treats before their last shift together, especially since tomorrow, Felix would leave to join Niles’s party.
From a distance, Felix noticed his colleague walking beside the court assistant. They seemed to be chatting amicably as they approached the barracks. Felix raised an eyebrow but decided not to interrupt. Good for him, he thought with a wry grin, assuming his friend had found some pleasant company. He turned back to his post, sipping from his glass of water.
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Some time later, the other guard returned, crossing the bridge with an air of casual ease. Felix waved, holding up the pastries. “Evening! How’s it going? Anything to report?”
The guard grinned faintly as he approached. “Nothing unusual. And you?”
“Same. Niles dropped by earlier—brought some food and water. Here, have one!” Felix offered a pastry, extending his hand.
Their hands brushed briefly as the other guard accepted the treat, and Felix’s skill activated. A cold, dreadful feeling sank into him. Hostile. Dangerous.
Felix’s expression barely changed, but his pause was enough to tip off the other guard. The man sighed, lowering the pastry. “I tried to avoid touching you, really. But you made sure to press just close enough.”
Felix’s hand moved subtly toward the hilt of his sword. His voice was calm but firm. “What happened to the woman you were with?”
The guard’s smirk turned sharp, his tone mocking. “I think you already know.”
The tension between them snapped like a drawn bowstring. Swords were drawn, the clash of metal shattering the quiet night as they fought under the pale glow of the castle lights.