“What do you think?” I asked.

Duncan and I were seated on one of the plush sofas in my grandmother’s opulent library. The scent of the leather-bound books mingled with the faint aroma of the lukewarm tea that had been abandoned on a nearby table.

Leona was munching away on the remaining pastries while listening to our conversation.

With meticulous detail, I had outlined to Duncan the two looming disasters that threatened the Genuiver Duchy in the coming years, just as I had done in our previous rounds. Then I provided my proposed steps to prevent them. Now, as the weight of the situation hung in the air, I awaited his response.

“With the rumors I’m having Natalia Ashford spread of your good deeds, the information she dug up that can be used against your sister, and you taking on the position as a royal minister to the crown princess, you should be able to amend your reputation and regain your position as heir of the Genuiver Duchy.” I smiled.

However, instead of embracing the proposed plan, a frown etched itself upon Duncan's face. His expression contorted with hesitation as he voiced his concern. "I am in agreement with most of your plan, except for one aspect: suggesting that my sister is illegitimate."

I blinked.

I didn't quite expect this.

"Why?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

Duncan sighed, his gaze momentarily drifting toward the library's elegant ceiling. "Anastasia is a complex individual," he began, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and compassion. "Yes, she possesses many faults, and I am well aware of them. I acknowledge that I am far from being an ideal individual myself."

“Far from ideal?” I interjected. “She is the reason behind the impending famine that will claim the lives of a quarter of a million people in three years. A significant difference exists between having faults and being responsible for such devastation."

Duncan sighed.

“I realize that,” he said. “However, she is my sister. And for all her flaws, the reason I am allowed to continue to live under the Genuiver name and access my family’s treasury is because of her. She is a kind person at heart.”

Tsk.

I recalled Anastasia’s shrill laughter at the Gilded Siren’s cage fight.

Just what perspective does he have of his sister? But perhaps I’m hardly the best person to pass judgment on other family dynamics.

I thought Anastasia and I only shared one part in common: us both being complete disasters as heirs of our respective domains. However, it appeared we both had an older brother willing to protect us, despite our questionable actions.

“But you are willing at least to take back your position as heir?” I asked.

“Yes, I am.” Duncan nodded.

I raised a brow. “You’ll still have to fight for it, you know.”

As far as I could tell, Anastasia wouldn’t give up the title just because her older brother asked.

“Of course,” Duncan said. “I just don’t want her reputation irreversibly tarnished.”

I sighed.

“Very well,” I said. "We will move forward without questioning your sister's legitimacy, taking the higher ground in reclaiming your position as the heir."

I stood up from the sofa.

“Micah will be arriving tomorrow,” I said. “We can speak on the matter of your appointment as Princess Evelyn’s royal minister then. For now, I’ll have Ben escort you to your room to wash up before dinner.”

“Thank you,” Duncan said.

***

With Ben arriving and escorting Duncan away, Leona and I were left alone.

I reached into a nearby drawer and retrieved a polished wooden chessboard that Ben had thoughtfully provided. Setting it on the table, I arranged the black and white pieces.

“Peep!”

Human, are we going to play?

Her voice sounded eagerly in my mind.

I smiled and gestured for her to take a position opposite me.

<>

Leona chirped and fluttered over to the side of the black pieces.

I won’t go as easy on you as your grandmother was doing.

As our chess match unfolded, the clacking of the pieces punctuated the room's silence. Leona proved to be a formidable opponent. However, my grandmother was superior. Nonetheless, the match became a welcome distraction to the darker conversation I planned with Leona.

<>

“Peep!”

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Leona fluttered lightly, perching herself atop a rook she had previously taken, her golden eyes meeting my gaze. She offered a clarifying response.

No, I didn’t say it died. I said its eternal cycle of resurrection had been cut short.

I frowned.

<>

Everyone and everything dies at some point. Their bodies return to the soil as nourishment, and their souls move on to their next life. Phoenixes undergo a similar, but at the same time, very different flow.

<>

Instead of the soul of a phoenix moving onto another realm and in a different form upon death, it remains with the ashes, embedding once more within the new egg that formed out of the remains of the phoenix that has died. You could say that I have undergone endless reincarnation.

I advanced my queen.

<>

With a graceful sweep of her wing, Leona grasped a knight. She elegantly shifted it across the board, her gaze fixed on the emerging pattern.

The reason why dragons are hated by phoenixes, Azgarlos especially, is because they have cut short our cycle of reincarnation by eating us. When eaten, a phoenix is no longer able to reincarnate. Our souls do not go to the next life.

I inhaled.

<>

Yes.

Leona’s voice rang in my mind, carrying a somber note.

Luca, there is something evil in that forest. Whatever that dark thing that came out of Henry in the previous round is likely what had eaten one of my brethren.

“Young master Luca?”

Just as our game and conversation reached a critical juncture, Remlend appeared at the library’s doors.

I felt a shiver run up my spine. I didn’t hear him at all until he called out.

“Yes?” I asked. My eyes moved toward a nearby clock. “Ah, is it dinner time already?”

“Indeed.” Remlend’s gaze moved toward the chessboard, but he didn’t make any useless comments about whether or not I was engaging in a game of chess with a bird.

“I’ll go now,” I said, standing up from the table.

A bittersweet pang tugged at my heart as I realized this would be my final meal with my grandmother. I was already beginning to dread tomorrow’s inevitable funeral. Pushing aside the melancholy, I gently picked up Leona and placed her on my shoulder.

The small phoenix didn’t chirp away about all the delicious food she would eat this time. Either her mind was still thinking about the phoenix that was consumed, or she seemed to have realized the somber nature of tonight's meal.

“Remlend, can you clean up?” I motioned to the table.

“Most certainly, young master.” Remlend bowed.

I went to the family dining room, where Duncan awaited, freshly cleaned up with his long hair tied back and a black silk mask covering his face—a welcome replacement to the white bandages. Apart from the new clothing, he wore an air of confidence befitting the heir to a prestigious dukedom.

“You look much better,” I commented.

Duncan smiled, based on the lines around his blue eyes. “Thank you for your household’s hospitality.”

The circular grand table he sat at was adorned with fine silverware and delicate porcelain. However, the food wasn’t yet present, as neither was my grandmother. But we didn’t need to wait long.

With a gentle creak, the ornate dining room doors swung wide, granting passage to the entrance of a formidable presence.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Grandmother gracefully made her way inside, her long cane orchestrating a symphony of clicks that resonated against the sleek, ebony embrace of the marble floors.

“Ah, you must be Duncan Genuiver,” she smiled in his direction.

Duncan’s blue eyes widened and he glanced at me.

Ah. I forgot to warn him about how soon she was going to pass.

“I-It’s a pleasure, M-Madame Ruth. I appreciate your hospitality,” Duncan stumbled over his words just like in the round prior.

“Of course, any friends of my dear grandson are always most welcome in my humble little abode.” Grandma sat down at the circular dining table.

Ben swished his fingers, and a troupe of servants materialized in perfect harmony, bearing platters of culinary treasures. Sautéed vegetables bursting with color and aroma, baked pies glistening with a golden allure, and tender slices of prime rib emerged before us. The table's glass top spun, revealing this feast fit for royalty, its presence a breathtaking masterpiece.

“Peep! Peep!”

Leona's cheerful chirps filled my thoughts, momentarily casting aside the weight of sorrow that loomed over this meal.

I inhaled the rich aromas and smiled.

Being depressed wasn’t going to prevent my grandmother from passing anyhow. So it was better to enjoy this meal with her instead.

I placed a slice of pie on my plate and entered a lively conversation with my grandmother and Duncan. It was a bittersweet moment of peace, a brief interlude of warmth amidst the storm that brewed in the near future.

However, the tranquility was abruptly shattered as a servant burst into the room, breathless. "Apologies for the intrusion, but Prince Chase Daylan has arrived at the villa," the servant blurted, her voice filled with alarm. "He is requesting an audience with Luca.”

I felt a shiver move up my spine.

What was that lunatic doing, showing up here?

“Peep?”

Wasn’t that the prince that went missing in the previous round?

“Well, we can’t have a war start with the Daylan Dynasty, but that doesn’t mean he can do as he pleases. Tell him that Luca can meet with him after dinner,” Grandma said.

The servant gazed at her communication ring, seemingly having received an update. “I’m afraid he is already making his way here, ignoring all staff and protocols."

“What business does he have exactly to be acting so rudely?” Grandma asked. Her gaze momentarily shifted toward me. “Tell the staff to apprehend his guards, but don’t harm the young man. Despite his rudeness, he is still the Golden Child of the Daylan Queen.”

The servant pressed her lips together. “Madame Ruth, he came alone.”

“Alone?” My grandmother’s gray eyes narrowed. “And the staff are still unable to apprehend him?”

“No,” she replied. “To be fair, they are trying to subdue him without causing harm.”

The sound of blasts and rumbles sounded from behind her. The dining room doors quivered under the weight of impending chaos that was approaching.

Duncan's blue eyes shifted toward me as if to inquire if I had any understanding of what was going on.

I rubbed my temples.

Damn it. Why was he coming here in such an obnoxious manner?

“Perhaps it has something to do with the other piece of news I was coming to deliver?” The servant suggested. “Queen Yadana Daylan has passed away.”

Surely not?

I gazed up. However, a sense of foreboding gripped me.

BANG.

Prince Chase Daylan burst into the dining room with a flourish, his entrance accompanied by the echoes of his explosive arrival. The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension and surprise.

Chase adjusted his flowing golden silk robes and dusted off some debris from his round eyeshades. However, despite causing such chaos, he didn’t look the least bit harmed, unlike the scattered and defeated staff behind him.

"Prince Chase Daylan, what is the meaning of this?" Grandma demanded, her voice laced with a blend of confusion and indignation, her gaze fixed on the audacious intruder.

The lunatic prince ignored her, however, and instead diverted his attention to me.

“Now, Luca, before you get mad, I assure you I didn’t kill anyone.” Chase raised his hands. “I just left everyone mildly stunned. Maybe a few bruises. Nothing they can’t recover from.”

Everyone in the room turned their attention to me.

“Why did you attack the staff here?” I asked.

“Well, I did at first attempt to explain to the people here that I needed to see you, but I was rejected,” Chase explained. “I considered waiting until later but figured sooner was better than later. And as I’ve said, I didn’t kill anyone. No harm done.”

A lunatic. He was a complete and utter lunatic. How did I ever even consider a partnership with him?

“Why are you here?” I asked.

"Oh yes. Luca, my dear friend, it seems you've changed something,” Chase grinned mischievously and sat down at the circular dining table.

“Pray, tell me, why is it that my dear mother met her untimely demise so many years ahead of her destined path?" He picked up a miniature lemon tart and took a bite.