Blaze lounged in the dimly lit bar, the soft hum of conversation around her like background noise. She took another sip of the amber liquid Nero had slid her way, her head beginning to buzz, not sure if it was the alcohol or his charming words that were making her feel lightheaded. His dark, mischievous eyes sparkled under the soft lighting as he leaned against the bar, an effortless smirk tugging at his lips. He was confident, a master of reading people, and she found herself chuckling at his teasing, even though she knew better.
“I’ll say this, Blaze,” Nero drawled, his tone warm and playful. “You’re pretty good at what you do. Trap Icy’s single’s gonna blow up because of you.” His eyes flicked up to meet hers, studying her, as if searching for something deeper.
Blaze felt her heart skip, not out of romance, but because she feared she had let something slip. It was all going so smoothly so far. Sent by Delphinus to spy on Kaelen, her Kitsune skills of deception had made the mission almost too easy. She blended in well, spun webs of half-truths with a smile. But Nero was sharp. There was a way he looked at her, with that casual confidence, that suggested he saw more than she wanted him to.
She giggled, brushing a strand of her fiery hair behind her ear, letting her Kitsune allure mask her nerves. “Thanks, Nero. But it’s all Trap Icy’s talent. I just give a little nudge here and there.”
Her voice was light, but inside, her mind was racing. Had she given too much away? Nero was a businessman, but there was something more to him. Did he know? Could he sense she was here under false pretenses, working for Delphinus? She dropped her gaze to her drink, swirling the liquid absently, hoping she hadn’t said anything to incriminate herself. She let subtle hints slip now and then, but not enough to raise alarms. Or so she hoped.
Nero tilted his head, watching her closely, as if he was in on a joke she hadn’t caught yet. “A little nudge, huh?” He grinned and leaned in closer. “You’re pretty good at nudging things in the right direction, Blaze. And pretty good at keeping secrets, too.”
Her heart thudded in her chest, but she kept her face smooth, a perfect mask of playful indifference. “I’m good at what I do,” she winked, tipping back another shot. “No secrets here. Just business.”
Nero raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more, offering her another drink instead. He was smooth, too smooth, and it made Blaze wonder how much he had already pieced together. She played it cool, hoping she hadn’t given away anything that could jeopardize her mission.
Meanwhile, in a sleek, glass-walled studio downtown, the interview was already in full swing. Trap Icy and Kunai sat on a plush, velvet couch in front of a modern, high-tech set, their faces lit by the soft glow of the studio lights. Gale, the Kenku interviewer, perched on a stool across from them, her glossy blue feathers ruffling slightly with each movement. Her sharp beak twitched in time with the rhythm of her thoughts, her intense, bird-like eyes studying her guests.
Trap Icy looked stunning, as usual. Her platinum blonde hair shimmered under the lights, cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, and her ice-blue eyes sparkled with excitement. She was wearing a tight, metallic silver jumpsuit that hugged her slim frame, with a blue-tinted visor perched on her forehead. Kunai, her Kenku boyfriend, sat next to her in his usual black leather, looking out of place but supportive, his feathers ruffled and eyes darting nervously around the room.
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Gale leaned forward, her notebook in hand, her voice a smooth mimicry of a well-known celebrity anchor. “Trap Icy, Kunai, you two are on fire lately, and this new single—Frostbite Groove—is taking over the charts. What’s it like working with Kaelen, the man behind Lost Strays, who’s quickly becoming one of Ravetham’s most notorious figures?”
Trap Icy flashed a confident smile. “Kaelen’s a genius, honestly. He gives us space to create and always has our back. He’s been making waves, sure, but in this industry, you need someone fearless. He’s exactly that.”
Kunai nodded, though his gaze flitted back to Gale’s clipboard, still uncomfortable with the attention. “Yeah, Kaelen knows how to handle business. He doesn’t play by the rules, but that’s why he’s making moves.”
Gale clicked her beak thoughtfully. “And speaking of not playing by the rules, Kaelen’s been making headlines not just for his music, but for his brushes with the law. Does that ever worry you, being connected to someone with, shall we say, a growing body count?”
Trap Icy’s smile faltered for a split second, but she recovered quickly. “Kaelen’s complicated, but what people don’t see is his loyalty to those he cares about. We’re family, and he protects his own.”
Rachel, sitting in her elegant living room, watched the interview unfold with mixed feelings. The room around her was a reflection of her refined taste—an air of quiet sophistication, decorated with polished wooden furniture, plush armchairs, and paintings that depicted peaceful landscapes. A grand piano stood in the corner, a testament to her love for classical music.
She took a sip of tea, her brow furrowed as Trap Icy answered Gale’s question about Kaelen’s criminal charges. Rachel had never been a fan of rap, preferring the elegance of a string quartet over the hard beats of hip-hop. But she couldn’t deny the pride she felt in her son. Despite his recent trouble with the law, Kaelen had shown remarkable initiative, building an empire in Ravetham almost from nothing.
As the mother of Jason and wife of Mason—better known as Red Dot—she understood that the life Kaelen was choosing wasn’t going to be an easy one. Trouble with the law came with the territory. Still, she hoped Kaelen wouldn’t lose himself completely to the criminal underworld that had claimed so much of his family.
The shrill ring of her phone interrupted her thoughts. She set her tea down and answered it, her voice calm. “Hello?”
“Rachel, darling. It’s Zelyndra.”
The voice of Kaelen’s grandmother, Matron Zelyndra Nyxaris, came through the line like a storm. Rachel straightened, knowing a call from the Queen of the Underdark was never casual.
“How’s my grandson?” Zelyndra’s voice was sharp, almost impatient. “I’ve been hearing troubling things. Should I come to Ravetham and handle this myself?”
Rachel sighed. “He’s... dealing with a lot. Criminal charges are piling up, and with Delphinus spreading rumors that you’re trying to assassinate him, I think it would be good for Kaelen to have his family around. If you came, it might help—show some support.”
There was a brief pause, and then Zelyndra’s voice was filled with cold fury. “That snake Delphinus. I’ll deal with him soon enough. And yes, I’ll be visiting. Expect me soon, Rachel. It’s time I reminded Ravetham who the real power is.”
The call ended abruptly, and Rachel stared at the phone for a moment before setting it down. The queen was coming to Ravetham, and knowing Zelyndra, it would be an entrance the city wouldn’t soon forget.
Back at the studio, the interview was wrapping up. Gale ruffled her feathers, her sharp eyes trained on Trap Icy as she asked her final question.
“So, Trap Icy, how does it feel to be aligned with Kaelen, a rising tycoon in Ravetham, who also has a reputation for... dealing with problems in very permanent ways?”
Trap Icy met Gale’s gaze, her voice steady. “It feels like being part of something bigger than any of us. Kaelen’s vision isn’t just about music. It’s about loyalty, about building a legacy. People can talk about the body counts and the charges, but what matters is the impact. And Kaelen’s making waves, whether people like it or not.”
Gale’s beady eyes glinted, and she clicked her beak in satisfaction. “Thank you for your time, Trap Icy. It’s clear the future is going to be anything but boring for Delphinus.