Isolde’s voice rang out with a quiet but fierce warning as she struggled against the grip of the two knights holding her. “You will regret this…” Her eyes, flashing with defiance, never left Lucian, who stood with an air of cold indifference, his arms crossed.

Lucian didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on her. For a long moment, he simply watched her, as if weighing her every word, before his lips parted. “We shall see,” he said coolly. Then, without another glance at her, he turned to the wizards standing by the portal.

“Is the preparation done?” he asked.

One of the wizards, his face obscured by the hood of his robe, nodded sharply. “All done, Duke. You can use the portal to reach the Capital.”

Lucian gave a brief nod of acknowledgment, then focused his attention back on Isolde. She struggled to free herself, her body taut with resistance, but Lucian’s expression remained unchanged, almost emotionless. Slowly, he stepped forward, his hand reaching toward her head with unexpected gentleness.

Before she could react, his fingers brushed her temple, and she felt a shiver of warmth spread through her mind. His voice, a low murmur of incantation, filled the air. “Sleep.”

Isolde’s eyelids grew heavy, her body fighting the spell even as it tugged at her consciousness. With one last glance at Lucian, she saw a woman with blonde hair and pointed ears standing beside him. The woman’s presence was a quiet mystery, an enigma that only deepened her confusion. But the weight of exhaustion soon took over, and before she could make sense of it, darkness claimed her.

When Isolde next opened her eyes, the world around her was no longer the dimly lit hideout she had been so familiar with. Instead, she was in a carriage, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves against stone the only sound as it sped towards its destination. The bright sunlight filtered through the curtains, but it only seemed to exacerbate the fog in her mind.

Her head was heavy, and her thoughts sluggish. She reached for the memories of the hideout, the conversations, the faces—but they were all slipping away like sand through her fingers. The more she tried to grasp them, the more they evaded her. She couldn’t even remember how she had ended up here.

The carriage was luxurious, but it offered no answers, no clues. She glanced around, her gaze darting to the soldiers standing guard outside, their sharp eyes wary and unyielding. There was no sign of Lucian, and the unsettling absence of his presence made her uneasy.

She had been transported, but to where? And why?

Back at the Sable estate, Evelyn was also deep in thought. Clad in her finest attire, she moved with poise through the garden, her every step deliberate. The peaceful surroundings did little to calm the storm brewing in her chest. The recent events weighed heavily on her mind, especially the danger to her daughter. But there was little she could do—yet.

As she sat at the garden table, sipping her tea with quiet grace, her thoughts drifted to Amelia. The young woman’s anger was palpable, but Evelyn knew that would only make her more dangerous. She would need to act soon, but not recklessly. Every move had to be calculated.

Her eyes lifted, momentarily meeting the eyes of the maids who stood at attention, their faces impassive. Evelyn’s mind was a whirlwind of strategy, her resolve firming with each passing second. She would not let herself be caught off guard. Not again.

Amelia, still seething from her humiliating encounter with Evelyn, clutched the small pouch of poison her father had given her. It burned a hole in her palm, both a symbol of her hatred and a tool of her revenge. The plan was simple, but execution was everything. One misstep could ruin everything.

Her mind raced with thoughts of the next tea time, where she would administer the poison to Evelyn. The Duke had no idea what was coming. The butler’s scheming and her own plans were set in motion—but Amelia knew that she would need to be careful. The consequences of failure were too dire to contemplate.

In the shadows of the estate, the butler kept a watchful eye on all the proceedings. He too was ready for revenge, his patience and cunning sharpened like a blade. His daughter’s suffering would not go unpunished, and his ambition burned brighter with each passing day.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the Empire, the Emperor’s knights scoured the city for any sign of Isolde or Lucian. News of their disappearance had spread like wildfire, and the Emperor’s wrath had only grown more intense. His patience was running thin, and he demanded results. The pressure on the knights was palpable, each of them knowing that failure would come at a great cost.

Lucian, however, remained unfazed. He was focused on his mission, the weight of the Emperor’s expectations not fazing him in the least. To him, the stakes were high, but the outcome was already set in motion. Isolde would be delivered to the Emperor, and whatever came after… well, that would be another story. Lucian had long ago made peace with the uncertainty of his fate.

As the carriage sped toward the Imperial Palace, Isolde’s thoughts began to clear. The fog was lifting, but it left behind a strange sense of familiarity, as though she had been here before. A sense of déjà vu gnawed at her, but she couldn’t place it. She had to stay alert, find the truth, and survive whatever awaited her.

Her mind raced through fragmented thoughts, but one thing was certain—she had to uncover the secrets of this new reality she had been thrust into.

Back at the Sable estate, Evelyn’s resolve only grew stronger. Her daughter was in danger, and the walls seemed to close in around her. She couldn’t stand idly by, not anymore. She would confront the Duke, demand answers, and assert her place.

Amelia, meanwhile, was already moving toward her next move—her revenge carefully planned. She would stop at nothing to ensure her place at the top, even if it meant destroying Evelyn.

As the days unfolded, each of them moved closer to the inevitable clash of wills. None of them knew how it would end, but the storm was coming. The collision of power, ambition, and revenge was only a matter of time.

To be continued....