The grand temple stood tall, its golden spires glistening under the sun's divine light. Nobles and royals alike gathered for the sacred ceremony to honor the goddess of fate and destiny, Goddess Astraea. It was said that her blessings could shape kingdoms, and the air was thick with reverence and anticipation.

The High Priestess, an elderly woman cloaked in ivory robes with silver embroidery, watched over the proceedings. Her name was High Priestess Seravelle, a revered figure known for her unwavering faith and piercing insight. Her voice rang with calm authority as she guided each royal family member to the altar.

Celine, resplendent yet distant, stood beside Damian, their unease toward each other palpable. The forced pairing for this sacred ritual was enough to make Celine grit her teeth behind her serene facade. Damian, too, wore a stoic mask, though his discomfort simmered beneath the surface.

One by one, the royals completed the ritual. The atmosphere grew heavier as it became Celine and Damian's turn to step forward. As they knelt before the altar, about to place their offerings, a sudden, blinding light illuminated the temple. Gasps echoed through the room, and heads turned skyward.

From the heavens, a figure descended-a girl, draped in a strange, otherworldly dress unfamiliar to their world. Lila. She fell with startling grace, as if guided by unseen hands, and landed in a kneeling position directly in front of the altar. The silence was deafening as everyone stared at the girl, whose wide eyes reflected confusion and awe.

High Priestess Seravelle stepped forward, her staff gleaming faintly in the light of the goddess's statue. She studied the girl intently, her expression unreadable, before speaking in a voice that carried through the temple:
"A divine message has been sent."

The girl, trembling, looked up at the priestess. Before she could utter a word, Seravelle declared:
"This girl is the messenger of Goddess Astraea, sent to guide us through her divine will."

The room erupted into murmurs. Some whispered of miracles, while others cast suspicious glances. Celine, still kneeling, felt a chill run through her. Her instincts screamed that this was no ordinary event. Beside her, Damian's jaw tightened as his gaze flicked between Lila and the priestess, his thoughts a whirlwind.

That girl, though shocked, managed to rise shakily to her feet. Her eyes darted around the temple, locking with Damian's for a brief moment. A flicker of something-recognition?-passed between them, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Celine broke the silence, her voice steady but cold:
"Messenger or not, this interruption does not excuse irreverence in the temple."

The High Priestess turned her gaze to Celine, her voice laced with subtle warning.
"The goddess's will is not ours to question, Lady Celine."

And with that, the ceremony was irrevocably altered, leaving everyone-royals and nobles alike-to wonder: who was this girl, and what did her arrival mean for the kingdom?

***

The sunlit park buzzed with life as Damian and Lila strolled together, their presence an unusual sight outside the palace. Lila chattered animatedly, her hand lightly brushing his arm, drawing Damian's attention entirely toward her.

But as they reached a secluded clearing surrounded by blooming flowers, Damian's steps faltered. His expression shifted, a flicker of unease crossing his face.

"Damian?" Lila tilted her head, feigning concern. "Are you okay?"

He tried to answer, but his words came out slurred. His knees buckled, and before he could stop himself, he collapsed onto the grass.

"Damian!" Lila shrieked, dropping to her knees beside him. She hugged his limp form tightly to her chest and screamed at the top of her lungs, "AHHHHH!"

The sound echoed through the serene park, drawing the startled attention of passersby. People paused mid-conversation, heads whipping in her direction. A couple of curious bystanders rushed closer, their eyes wide with alarm.

"Isn't that Prince Damian?" someone whispered.

"What happened to him?" another murmured.

Clutching Damian like a lifeline, Lila buried her face in his shoulder and let out another blood-curdling scream. Tears streamed down her face as she shook his lifeless form. "Somebody, help! Please!" she wailed.

The crowd grew, their whispers intensifying. A healer was summoned, and two guards broke through the throng, their faces pale when they recognized the prince.

Lila looked up at them, her face streaked with tears, her voice trembling as she sobbed. "He just collapsed! I don't know what happened!"

Inside, however, her mind was alight with triumph. All attention was now on her. Damian would be hers to save, to care for, to claim.

***

Damian lay unconscious in his chambers, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows across the room. His skin was unnaturally pale, and his shallow breathing seemed to echo in the stillness. The Emperor paced anxiously, his regal figure tense with worry. Beside the prince's bed, a healer worked quickly, examining him with practiced hands, her face a picture of concern.

"Well?" Emperor Alaric's voice was cold, demanding an answer as he stepped closer.

The healer paused, pressing her fingers to Damian's wrist. "Your Majesty, the prince has been poisoned."

A tense silence filled the room. The Emperor's fists clenched, his gaze turning hard and calculating. "Poisoned? How long has he been like this?"

"It seems to be a slow-acting poison, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice steady, though her brow furrowed with worry. "The symptoms are subtle at first, but the effects are undeniable now. He's been suffering from it for some time."

Alaric's jaw tightened, his mind racing. "Who would dare...?"

The healer continued, her tone softer now. "I can prepare an antidote, but it will take time. It's imperative he stays calm and remains undisturbed. I suggest you ensure his security while we act."

The Emperor nodded sharply, his eyes never leaving his son. "Of course. Nothing will stand in the way of saving him. But tell me, who would want to harm my son? Who would dare poison him?"

The healer hesitated, her eyes flickering nervously. "It is likely someone close to him. Perhaps someone he trusts."

The Emperor's gaze darkened, his mind already working, considering every possible suspect. "Get out. I'll handle this from here."

As the healer hurriedly left the room, the Emperor's cold eyes turned to the guards, who were now on high alert. "I want this entire palace locked down. No one enters or leaves without my permission. And keep watch on the prince at all times."

***

The door creaked open softly as Celine stepped into Damian's chambers, her posture as composed as ever. Behind her, Cassian followed silently, his usual stoic expression giving nothing away. Though it was customary for family members to check on their loved ones during times of illness, Celine's visit was far from one of simple concern. There was more at play here, especially with the presence of Lila hovering in the corner of the room.

Damian, who had been resting in bed with a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, turned his head toward the door, the usual defiance and arrogance in his gaze replaced by weariness. His eyes briefly flickered over Celine and Cassian before landing on Lila, who stood by the window with her arms crossed, her eyes cool and distant as usual.

Celine's gaze didn't meet Damian's immediately; instead, she kept her distance and glanced at the room, her eyes briefly lingering on the open window, as though she was observing every detail, calculating every move.

Damian struggled to sit up slightly, the faintest groan escaping his lips. "I didn't expect a visit from you, Celine," he said dryly, though there was no venom in his words this time. The time for insults and bitterness had passed-at least for now.

Celine gave a polite smile, one that didn't reach her eyes. "It's not a visit," she replied coolly. "I came as part of my family's duty to ensure you're well, of course."

Her tone was casual, detached, as if she were speaking to a distant acquaintance rather than someone she had once shared moments of tension with.

Cassian stood off to the side, leaning against the doorframe, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert, scanning the room. His presence, though subtle, added an air of authority to the situation. Celine, while seemingly unaffected, was acutely aware of how her brother's gaze lingered on Damian, measuring him carefully.

Damian's lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk. "A duty, you say? Is that all this is, Celine? How very formal of you."

Celine met his gaze, her expression hardening ever so slightly. "I think we both know this is about more than just a poisoned cup, Damian," she said, her voice carrying a hint of something that wasn't just professional concern. She then gestured slightly toward Lila, her eyes flickering over the other woman, who remained silently observing. "Seems you've had some... interesting company while you've been here."

Damian followed her glance toward Lila, and for the first time since Celine entered, he tensed slightly, his posture betraying a flicker of discomfort. Lila didn't acknowledge the remark, her gaze steady and unreadable, but a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at her lips as she caught Celine's eyes.

Cassian's voice broke the tension. "We came to see how you're doing, Damian. We've heard whispers, but nothing concrete yet. If you've recovered, then perhaps it's time you explain what's really going on."

Damian, now more alert than before, narrowed his eyes. "Explain?" he repeated, his tone sharpening. "I've explained everything already. As I've said before, it was just poison. Nothing more."

But Celine didn't buy it. She tilted her head slightly, the smile on her lips almost knowing, like a chess player about to make her move. "Are you sure, Damian? There are whispers around the palace. People are talking about other things-things that have little to do with your recovery and more to do with your... surroundings."

Lila's expression remained a mask of indifference, but there was a certain glint in her eyes that made Celine pause, if only for a second. It was almost like a challenge-like she was daring her to dig deeper, to push harder.

But Celine wasn't in the mood to play games, not with Lila standing there, silently watching.

She turned to Cassian, nodding once to him. "Well, it seems our time here is up, Damian," she said smoothly, her tone still the same, but with a subtle finality. "Take care of yourself. I'm sure you'll recover soon. You wouldn't want to disappoint everyone in the palace, would you?"

Her words, while polite, carried an underlying bite. Cassian gave a small nod toward Damian, his gaze lingering on him for a moment, before he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Lila, ever observant, stayed in her place by the window, watching the interaction unfold with quiet intensity. There was no emotion on her face, just a calm, composed exterior that masked the storm brewing beneath.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Damian couldn't help but let out a quiet breath, a mix of frustration and confusion swirling in his chest. The visit had been short, curt, and yet it had left him with more questions than answers.

Celine walked ahead, her steps measured and deliberate, the soft rustle of her gown the only sound breaking the heavy silence between her and her brother. Cassian followed closely, his posture relaxed but his gaze distant, as though deep in thought.

As they passed through the grand hall, the echo of footsteps on the polished marble floor filled the space, and Celine couldn't help but glance sideways at her brother. His usual stoic expression was marked by something more-an unreadable intensity in his eyes.

"What's bothering you, Cassian?" Celine asked, her voice breaking the quiet tension.

Cassian's eyes shifted to her, but he didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced ahead, and his lips curved slightly. "Just thinking," he muttered, though his thoughts seemed far from clear.

Before Celine could press further, a voice interrupted them.

"Your Highness, Lady Schlestor."

They both turned, and standing in front of them was Lucifer, his usual poised demeanor making him stand out even more. He gave a small bow to Celine, a formality she had grown used to, but his eyes quickly shifted to Cassian.

"Cassian," Lucifer greeted, his tone smooth, like silk brushing over stone.

Cassian's gaze narrowed slightly, but there was no animosity in his expression-just an air of curiosity. "Lucifer. What brings you here?" His words were neutral, but Celine could sense the subtle edge of wariness in her brother's voice.

Lucifer glanced at Celine, his eyes lingering on her for a brief moment, before he focused back on Cassian. "I wanted to speak with you about Damian," he began, his voice low but firm. "I think we both know things aren't as simple as they appear. You've been with him for a while now-watched him closely. I want to understand where his loyalties lie."

Cassian's lips twitched in amusement, but there was no humor in it. "Loyalties, huh? That's an interesting thing to ask about Damian," he said with a hint of sarcasm, his eyes sharp. "But if you want to know more about him, you'll have to talk to him directly, Lucifer. I'm not the right person to give you answers."

Lucifer paused, as if considering Cassian's words. He wasn't one to be easily deterred. "I understand," he said, his voice calm, but there was a flicker of something darker beneath it. "But you do realize, Cassian, that Damian's actions have consequences that affect more than just him, right?"

Cassian didn't flinch. He was used to Lucifer's calculated demeanor, his manipulative ways. He met Lucifer's gaze head-on, unblinking. "I'm aware," he replied, his tone sharp. "But if you really want to know the truth, you don't need to ask me. You can talk to Celine. She's been the one closest to him lately. And," he added with a slightly teasing smile, "I'm sure she won't mind answering your questions."

Lucifer's eyes flickered toward Celine, and for a moment, there was a silent exchange between them. Though Celine said nothing, her posture remained unchanging, her expression unreadable. She wasn't sure what to make of this conversation, but the tension between the men was palpable.

Lucifer's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "You're offering me the opportunity to speak with her directly?" he asked, his tone playful, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness.

Cassian gave a nonchalant shrug. "You're a grown man, Lucifer. You don't need my permission to talk to my sister. She can handle herself."

Celine raised an eyebrow at her brother's words, but her expression remained neutral. "I can speak for myself, Cassian."

Lucifer's gaze lingered on Celine for a moment longer before he nodded in acknowledgment. "Of course, Lady Schlestor. I didn't mean to imply otherwise."

Cassian stepped forward slightly, giving Lucifer a final, unreadable look. "Then go ahead, Lucifer. You've got your opening. Don't waste it."

With that, Cassian turned and began walking away, leaving Celine and Lucifer standing in the hall. The air between them was charged, and though neither spoke immediately, the tension between them was unmistakable.

Lucifer took a step toward Celine, his eyes locking with hers. "We should talk," he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of something more, something that neither of them could deny.

Celine met his gaze, her expression cool but thoughtful. "We're talking now, Lucifer," she replied, her tone calm but firm.

For a moment, neither moved, the world around them feeling as though it had paused. The echo of their voices, of their unspoken understanding, lingered in the air between them.

The sun had set, casting the room in a soft, golden glow as the last rays of light filtered through the heavy curtains. Celine sat at a small table in the corner of her quarters, a glass of water in hand, her gaze distant. Lucifer stood near the window, his figure outlined against the darkening sky.

It had been a strange, unsettling day. Damian's sudden collapse, the way he had been taken to his chambers by the servants... everything about it felt off. Celine's thoughts circled around him, as much as she hated to admit it. But something wasn't right. Her curiosity had been piqued, and though she hadn't directly witnessed the events, the whole situation felt far too carefully orchestrated.

Lucifer's voice broke through the silence, his tone calm but laced with a subtle tension. "Do you think it was poison?"

Celine looked up at him, her brow furrowed. "Poison?" She repeated the word slowly, as if testing its weight. "It seems... unlikely. But then again, Damian's behavior has been strange for some time now. His sudden collapse today-"

Lucifer turned, his piercing gaze locking with hers. "We both know he's not the type to be so careless with his health. Whatever happened, it wasn't just exhaustion or stress. Something more is at play here."

Celine set her glass down, her fingers lingering on the cool surface. "I don't know what to make of it," she said quietly. "Damian has always been arrogant and reckless, but this? It's different. It felt deliberate. As if someone wanted to weaken him... maybe even eliminate him."

Lucifer stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "We need to consider all possibilities. Someone could've poisoned him without leaving a trace, a slow, subtle way to break him down."

Celine's gaze flickered to the door, as if half-expecting someone to burst in. "But who would do that?" She leaned back in her chair, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the glass. "Damian has so many enemies. The Empress, the Crown Prince... even his own brother might want him out of the picture. But none of them would be so careless, would they? To poison him and risk all of it coming out?"

Lucifer's smile was small, almost too calculated. "Careless?" he repeated. "Not all schemes are as simple as they seem. Poisoning, for instance, could be the perfect weapon. Quiet, efficient... and it wouldn't be immediately obvious to the casual observer."

He walked toward the table and took a seat across from her, his expression unreadable. "Damian's arrogance could have made him an easy target. Perhaps he's been too focused on his own games to notice what was happening around him."

Celine thought for a moment, her mind racing. "But why now? Why would someone want him out of the picture at this very moment?"

Lucifer's eyes glinted with something darker, a hint of amusement mixed with calculation. "Because the court is a game. And every player knows that in order to rise, someone else must fall. Damian's been playing this game for a long time, but the stakes have risen. Maybe someone wanted him removed before he could make his next move."

Celine shifted in her seat, her thoughts swirling. "But who has the means? Who could get close enough to him without anyone suspecting?"

Lucifer leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Someone who knows the palace well. Someone who can move unnoticed. And," he paused, watching her closely, "someone who knows how to manipulate the right people."

Celine's eyes widened, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. "You're suggesting someone from within the palace? A servant? One of the courtiers?"

Lucifer's lips curled into a knowing smile, but there was no humor in it. "Maybe. Or someone who has direct access to Damian, someone close to him. A friend. An ally. Someone who would be trusted implicitly."

Celine's breath caught in her throat. She tried to push the thought away, but it lingered in her mind, refusing to be ignored. She couldn't help but think of Lila-the way she had always been hovering around Damian, the way she had been there during his collapse.

But no. She quickly shook off the suspicion. No, Lila wouldn't do something like that. Would she?

Lucifer seemed to read her mind, his gaze intense. "You're thinking of someone, aren't you?" he asked softly. "Someone close to him. Someone who could have gained his trust."

Celine's face remained neutral, but inside, a storm of thoughts churned. "I don't know," she said, though she wasn't entirely sure if she believed her own words. "Damian's relationships are always... complicated."

Lucifer nodded, as if he understood her hesitation. "You don't have to trust your instincts. But you should start questioning them. All of them." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm telling you, Celine-this isn't a simple case of illness or weakness. Someone is pulling the strings. And the sooner we figure out who, the better."

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, as Celine processed his words. She wanted to push back, to deny it, but deep down, she knew he was right. The truth of the situation was far more complicated than it appeared. And she was standing on the edge of something far darker than she could have imagined.

"Thank you," she said quietly, finally breaking the silence. "For helping me understand. I'll look into it."

Lucifer gave a small nod, his lips curving into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't thank me yet. We're just getting started."

***

Celine paced slowly in the dimly lit corridor of the palace, her thoughts racing. Every word Lucifer had spoken echoed in her mind. Someone had poisoned Damian, and she was determined to find out who. She had no doubts now-this was not a simple accident or some unexplained illness. There was intent behind it, a deliberate effort to weaken him before he could make his next move in the dangerous game of politics.

But who?

She stopped at a grand wooden door, running her fingers lightly over the carved surface before knocking softly. The door creaked open, revealing an older man, his salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a neat ponytail. His piercing blue eyes studied her with a mixture of curiosity and respect.

"Lady Celine," the royal physician, Dr. Aleron, greeted her with a slight bow. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Celine stepped inside, her voice steady, though her heart beat faster with each passing second. "I need your help, Dr. Aleron. It's about Damian."

The physician's brows furrowed. "What happened? I thought he was recovering."

"He's not," Celine replied, her tone sharp. "And I suspect foul play. Someone poisoned him."

Dr. Aleron's expression tightened, a flicker of suspicion passing through his eyes. "Poisoned, you say? That's a serious accusation, Lady Celine."

"I'm not accusing anyone yet," she replied quickly. "But I need to find out how this happened, and who might be behind it. You know the palace better than anyone-who has access to the royal kitchens? Who could have slipped something into his food or drink without anyone noticing?"

Dr. Aleron studied her carefully for a long moment, as if weighing whether to trust her with this information. Then, with a sigh, he motioned for her to sit at the table. "I've seen my share of poisonings, but nothing like this. Whoever did this was clever. The symptoms were subtle at first, almost as if he were just fatigued... but that doesn't explain his sudden collapse."

Celine leaned forward, her fingers pressed lightly against the edge of the table. "I know. And I know it's not just a coincidence. Someone wanted to hurt him, and they did it slowly, quietly."

Dr. Aleron's eyes darkened, and he glanced toward the door before speaking again in a low voice. "There's a lot that goes on behind the scenes in the palace. Not all of it is pretty. The servants, the cooks... they're all under the watchful eye of the Empress. But there are others too-those who have their own agendas."

Celine's breath caught in her throat. "Who?"

The physician hesitated, then leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Lila."

The name hit her like a punch to the gut. "Lila?" Celine repeated, trying to keep her voice even. "Why would you suspect her?"

"She's close to him," Dr. Aleron said, his expression grim. "More than anyone else, she's always by his side, always in his vicinity. She has access to his food, his drink... everything. And, from what I've seen, she's not exactly fond of your family, Lady Celine. She might see Damian as a way to elevate herself in the eyes of the royals."

Celine's mind raced, the pieces falling into place. The jealousy, the lingering gaze between Lila and Damian, the sudden, inexplicable collapse-it all pointed to her. Celine had suspected it for a while, but hearing it from Dr. Aleron only solidified her doubts.

"Do you have any proof?" Celine asked, her voice steady, though her insides churned with unease. "Anything to back up your theory?"

The physician shook his head. "None that I can offer you directly. But I can tell you this-whoever did this, they were very careful. Whoever has access to the kitchens, to Damian's personal staff... that's where the answer lies."

Celine stood up, her resolve hardening. "Thank you, Dr. Aleron. I'll take it from here."

As she left the physician's chambers, her mind was already racing with plans. She needed to find proof, something that could tie Lila to the poison. And to do that, she would need to use her own network of connections within the palace.

Later that evening, Celine made her way to the servants' quarters, keeping her steps light as she passed the dimly lit hallways. She had to tread carefully; any misstep could alert Lila or someone else who might be involved. The servants knew her well enough to not ask questions, but she had to be cautious.

She finally reached the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked bread and simmering stew filling the air. The head cook, an older woman named Marta, was organizing the shelves when Celine entered, her presence so quiet that the cook didn't notice her at first.

"Marta," Celine greeted softly.

The cook looked up, startled, then quickly bowed. "My lady, I did not expect to see you here. How may I assist you?"

Celine's gaze swept over the room, carefully noting the staff moving about. "I need to know who had access to Prince Damian's meals in the last few days," she said. "It's... important."

Marta's face faltered, but she quickly regained her composure. "I... I don't know, my lady. Only the usual staff handles his meals. But I will check with the others to see if anyone unusual was near the prince's food."

"Please," Celine said, her voice soft but firm. "I trust you will find the information I need."

The cook gave a small nod, but Celine could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She left the kitchen, her mind whirling. She didn't have all the answers yet, but she was getting closer. And soon, someone's carefully constructed façade would come crumbling down.