There they were.

I narrowed my eyes at the scene that was a few feet ahead of me. A little bit to the left was Prince Jacque Darryl, darting past from tree to tree, his golden blade, Frère, flickering in the dark. Prince Vante Osburne was faster and thus farther from the seventh-born, considering the weight of his sword and the earlier experience with these kind of scenarios.

But the Black Hood was out of reach from any of them. We gave him a running start. Damn it, I should've killed him when I had the chance.

I remained my focus on him, heavily panting. We were within the deepest parts of the forest. The branches were getting in my way, stabbing the edges of my dress. This was a trap. Soon, we won't be able to follow him. We'll lose him!

“I won't let you.” I sharply inhaled through my teeth.

I positioned at a nearby hill where the trees were underneath me. Lifting Aculeus, I prepared to fire.

But a bunch of vines were obscuring my target. I clicked my tongue in frustration. Should I shoot three arrows to hopefully get rid of them? No, that won't work. At this range, my arrows would only be stuck as a result. Thick vines like those won't be so easy to eliminate with my weapon. And there was no time to waste for a change of tactics.

Exhaustion was progressively beating my body.

I was about to give up when Prince Jacque unknowingly chopped the vines with his sword as he was trying to delve deeper into the woods. The corner of my lips went up. I steadied my breaths, readying my arrow.

Ready...

“Jacque, get down!” I yelled.

Aim...

He heard me. Despite not aware of where my voice came from, he instinctively followed and crouched to the forest floor.

Fire.

My arrow zipped through the air. Instead of attacking the Black Hood, it traveled towards another direction, much to Prince Jacque's confusion. It pierced a gaping crack of a stone wall.

“Rosette, you missed!” said the seventh-born worriedly.

I shook my head, smiling at him.

“I did not.”

A loud rumble ricocheted all over the area. Birds flew away in fright. Prince Vante noticed the ground shake beneath his boots. He looked up and saw a huge mass of rock crumbling down like a human-sized boulder. Hurriedly, he drew back.

Seeing the royal retreat, the Black Hood cackled while halting in his tracks. “That's right, Your Highness. You can't get me—”

He ceased his laughter. His attention landed on the shadow below him, growing bigger and bigger and...

Prince Vante smirked. “You were saying?”

The man glanced up to where the source of the shadow was. The boulder was tumbling down straight towards him. He shrieked.

I closed my eyes and heard bones crushing.

The forest was silent for a couple of minutes. I pat my chest, attempting to be calm. I must have a strong mentality.

Then, I heard approaching footsteps on fallen leaves.

“He's not dead.” Prince Jacque told me, his hand clasping over my shoulder. “Good job, Rosie.”

I could only nod at him.

We went over to the man on the ground. The branches of the trees filtered the rays of the moon, becoming a spotlight for our dear captive.

I wanted to feel victorious, to feel like I had did a very heroic thing and defeated my mortal enemy. But the moment I saw the color of the man's cloak, I froze.

“What is it?” asked the prince beside me.

I could catch the sound of my breath escape me. “...The hood...”

It may be a dark color, but it wasn't black. I thought it was at first, because of the lighting in my room and because of that second nightmare I had. Now that I can clearly observe him, it wasn't the same hooded man who Prince Agustus and I saw before. And he attempted to kill me with a knife, not a sword.

In front of us was not the person we were searching for.

He was not the Black Hood.

Prince Vante pushed the boulder aside and grabbed the stranger by the collar. We caught up to them.

“Why do you try to murder the Painter Guest of Grand?!” the sixth-born prince growled as he unsheathed his sword, Promittere. “What are your motives?”

The snotty man cried, thrown to the ground again. “I do not have any relation to her! I was just tasked to do this, I swear!”

“Stop lying—”

“Vante, let him talk.” I intervened, taking a step closer to the wiggling body and looked directly into the man's eyes. “Who ordered you to do this? Who wants me dead?”

He heaved and stopped resisting, his muscles surrendering to relax. With scary, glinting pupils that resembled the iron edge of my fear, he then answered in a baritone voice.

“The king.”

Seven of us gathered at the Round Table. By seven, I meant the six princes of Grand and me, their Royal Painter.

Although Doctor Raleigh prevented the toxins from spreading, Prince Tayden Pharrell was still unconscious in his chambers.

We were all devastated. We caught the man who infiltrated my bedroom, but it wasn't the Black Hood. Thanks to him spilling the truth, however, we learned that one behind such a guilefully devious method was King Eldred.

Does he even know that he almost had his son killed?

After I explained the conclusion to Prelude, explained why these events unfurled, we were engulfed in silence.

It was far from success. The event that played last night was like one of my nightmares that finally came true. And the fact that Prince Tayden was bedridden didn't help us ease the situation. The atmosphere told us one thing. Defeat.

We lost that night. It was a total failure.

“How is he? Tayden?”

It was similar to a whisper. Prince Vante, who was the subject's twin, scratched his nape awkwardly when he realized that he showed us he cared. I could see him vulnerable.

All of us felt the discomfort of the question. We wanted to avoid it, try and make things positive, but of course, it was hard.

“He is now stable.” The Heir announced, doing his best to sound confident. “There is minimal poison in his body still. He is currently weak but he will be fine. I trust Tayden enough that he will.”

“And the king?”

We all turned to Prince Agustus Dane.

He has fury written all over his expression despite the indifference in his tone. He could throw that black dagger hanging around his waistline any second he wants, surely not missing his aim.

The sixth-born slammed the wooden table, irritated by the idea that we were currently at a loss. “He should pay for this.”

“I know how you feel, brother. I know it very well.” Prince Jacob Erhart responded. “But we need to take precautionary measures. He could proclaim us treason.”

“I'm afraid Jacob is right on this one. The king could capture all of us if he had enough evidence that we are behind such activity that involves the Revolution.” Prince Nathaniel James agreed with a push of his glasses. “If ever we all get caught, then we fail. Everything falls apart and Tayden's sacrifices would only be in vain.”

“It is as though he wants to remind us that he owns this kingdom, this marking of the land.” The Heir sighed, tempted to give up. “Can I really be better than him? I caused this mess. This wouldn't have happened if I...”

“Eugene...” I murmured with a sad gaze.

He was blaming himself. He was claiming all the fault.

“Kings do not own, they reign over.” Prince Agustus stated, gaining our interest with his sudden quote as he stared at his brother's startled eyes. “With that being said, Father is no king.”

He smiled. “Yet you can be.”

We all smiled with him.

“King Eugene! King Eugene!” chanted Prince Jacque with a raise of his fist. We laughed and joined him, our knuckles rising high.

Our cheers worked. His determination was returning, the fiery glint in his irises lit aflame.

“King Eugene! King Eugene! King Eugene!”

“He made his move.” Prince Eugene declared, standing tall. He was beaming. There were more to his plans. This wasn't the end.

“Now we make ours.”

Third Person's POV

The First Act of the Revolution began.

In the middle of the night, three shadowy figures snuck around the village rooftops. They could be mistaken for ninjas, noted for their stealth and their speed. The bright full moon was behind them as if it had been trailing after the trio.

Prince Vante Osburne directed Prince Jacob Erhart and Briar Rosette towards the secret routes. The marksmen then shot letters to every house in hushed quiet, precisely leaving every door with a paper attached to the flying arrows. Their bows were busy with duties since the archers divided the locations.

“You handle the doors from this street. I'll go to the next.” Prince Jacob motioned.

“Got it.” Rosette replied, her arrow already whisking to another cottage.

The maiden's practice sessions were worth it. To her, the doors were like center marks of the target wheels back at the Training Field. She hit each one without much difficulty.

Queen Isabella was murdered. The message says in abysmal scarlet. It was written on a thin layer of parchment paper. The color of the letters handwritten by Rosette had strong resemblance to blood, only it was dyed ink.

One way or another, the Heir believed that the villagers should know it as well. It was for the best, so that they wouldn't be blind to the truth, be blind to what was actually unraveling inside the palace of Grand and how it affected the kingdom as a whole.

They deserve to know. The first-born once said during their discussion at the Round Table.

“The guards are here,” informed Prince Vante, lowering Aculeus upon seeing the men patrolling the area, “let's check on Jacob.”

“Finished on time. Let's go.” Rosette mumbled, retreating to the trees with the sixth-born.

After the incident with the slashing king, Hans and his group of soldiers decided to roam the streets for nightly inspections. Alas, they haven't captured any thief, any sign of disloyalty to the crown, nor any maiden who was rumored to be responsible for the treachery.

“Did you guys hear something?” the leader of the small group asked.

“Hear what?” one of his men replied with a yawn.

“Rustling.” Hans squinted at the bushes, frighteningly marching towards them. “I think we've got company.”

But when he went over, a rodent flung out its hiding place and scurried to the house across the road, scaring off the youngest of their team.

“What great discovery, Hans.” Another soldier deadpanned. “You found a little mouse.”

Hans frowned, staring at the dimlit street as he spun to his group. “Wrong mouse, it seems.”

The night was getting darker. It was almost midnight when the trio visited the last house, which was Mona's. Rosette wanted to see her friend, though that wasn't an option at the moment. She wanted to knock that door and lunge at the girl who would be half-awake and they would chitchat for hours. She prayed for that to occur. Once this will be done, she'll visit her friend again with good news and heartwarming smiles, not arrows and messages with heartbreaking inevitability.

The village was peaceful and cold. Spring had come. The only warmth came from the house lanterns. Flower petals fluttered by as the three members of the Assemblage marveled at the sight.

They reached uphill, returning to the palace gates. They hid by the trees, aware that the soldiers would be more active in guarding the entrance. The expert who led the marksmen was about to walk forward when Rosette unexpectedly spoke up.

“You guys can go ahead.” The maiden said to both Prince Vante and Prince Jacob, which puzzled the two royals.

They stared at her, at her long, wavy blonde hair, and at her green eyes that illuminated like shining emeralds within a hollow cave. They were enchanted by the beauty of the young maiden once more, but they had to erase their feelings. They knew she already belonged to their beloved brother's heart and they must be willing to let go.

“What about you?” probed Prince Vante.

Rosette gave them an ambiguous smile. “I've got someplace to go.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Prince Jacob offered, stepping up. “It's dangerous for you to be alone, especially now that the king's after your head.”

She lifted her weapon, Aculeus, as a reminder and winked at her mentor. “I think I can handle an hour or two by myself, yes?”

This made him snort. “You really are my student.”

Prince Vante watched her quietly, impressed with a fluttering heart. He reminisced their village dates, her giggles, the scenery of her dancing and how she looked at the world.

But then he refrained from being swayed by her charms.

“Escapee?” he cocked a brow. “Might I remind you of Rule Five?”

“Let me break it for just this night.” She pleaded, batting her eyelashes at him. “You trust me, do you not?”

He exhaled with a faint smile in pure disbelief. She dared pull the trust card on him. “Of course, I do.”

The two princes glanced at each other and then at her.

Prince Jacob chuckled. “Fine. You may go. Be safe.”

She hugged both of them and darted past the slender trees, away from the gates and towards another place.

Rosette's POV

It was chilly, yet I don't mind it. Being here brought back memories that I'd forever cherish. Even if there was pain, along with it was a twinkling of happiness.

My breaths were short and quick. When they slip out of my mouth, they crystalize and I could see them like they were smoke pirouetting along thin air.

Hundreds of dark pine trees stretched far and wide, not allowing me to see what was beyond them. Fogs glazed over them akin to feathery clouds. Pretty hues of blue seeped in the sky as seen during a lonely twilight.

“It’s cold,” I remarked, rubbing my arms, “in spite of it being spring.”

But he was not there to react fast and swiftly strip off his vanilla-colored coat over my shivering body.

The hills, I remembered him say, are untouched by any activity of man, so they are abundant in trees and seem like they are one, like a vast mountain.

I felt tears slowly trickling along my cheeks.

The pain of betrayal would be like a sudden prick. A natural instinct is to move away fast, just as Prince Tayden Pharrell's reaction. He was pricked by the thorns of a rose he once admired, not knowing that it would leave a scar.

I was alone in this corner of the world.

Before I realized it, I had been going to this place in hopes of seeing him, of being with him. Was he also doing the same? Would he be gazing at the hills, too?

I found you. He said.

“Please find me again.” I wept, burying my face onto my knees. “Please.”

I can almost see ghosts of us kissing from that beautiful late afternoon, ghosts of us laughing and making jokes, ghosts of us simply enjoying the view and the presence of each other.

A presence.

There was a presence behind me.

My heartbeat accelerated. My hands gripped tight onto my soiled dress. My chest rose up and down. I whirled my head towards the noise, anticipating him. It has to be him. No one else knows about this place.

Is it you?

Is it really you?

Tayden? I was about to call out.

No one else knows about this place.

No one except...him.

“I knew you'd be here.”

My eyes widened.

“Agustus...?”

I hastily wiped my tears, clearing my throat upon hearing my voice that sounded like a dying frog. It's not that I was disappointed or anything.

I puffed my cheeks.

Okay, I was.

The fact that my heart sunk proves that to be true.

Without another word, Prince Agustus Dane sat next to me. It was quiet for a while. I sneaked a peek at him. He was staring at the hills. He appeared to be recalling memories of his own as well.

I knew we both were thinking about the same person.

And then, with a softened gaze, he shifted his feline-like eyes onto my round, mouse ones. I hitched breath when his hand journeyed to my face, sliding his thumb over the traces of teardrops on my skin.

“I am not fond of seeing you cry.” He uttered with a gentle, sweet hum. The sensation I got out of it was as though a faded melody had rewinded from a forgotten song.

He was careful, treating me like how he plays his piano, like I was his fragile piano. He studied me, memorizing my features like he could picture me and write a composition right after he pulls his hand away.

Timidly, I looked down. I was taken aback but I didn't hate the touch he was giving me. Not anymore.

“How did you know I was here?” I prompted, garnering the energy to ask.

He tilted his head, exhaling. “You know you shouldn't be alone, especially outside the palace. We won't be able to protect you if we don't know where you are.”

“I just...” It was no use. I chose to be genuine, allowing him to witness the raw emotions that were beseeching to be unleashed. “I desired to put my mind off of things, even for a mere hour or so. How did you know I was here of all places?”

“After what happened to Tayden yesterday, I just knew you'd be here.”

I bit my lip. That name. He said it.

“Is he okay?”

“Better. Eugene stayed by his side in case he would wake.”

“I see. That's good.”

I gripped tighter onto my skirt.

He waited for me to speak, patient regardless of the passing time. I had to be back at the palace by now.

“I'm sorry.” I mumbled under a shaky breath. “This is all my fault. I should be the one poisoned. I should be the one bedridden. I—”

Prince Agustus stopped me from going any further, pinching my nose.

“Hey!” I squeaked, my voice weirder than a dying frog.

“This is never going to be your fault, little mousey.” He smiled reassuringly, earning my surprise. “It will never be your fault.”

I slumped, blinking at him.

How nice it must be to lie and not stutter. He makes it seem so believable, so relieving. He makes it seem that he was actually being sincere with me.

The prince pointed at the item on my chest. Perplexed, I glimpsed and saw the silver whistle dangling at the end of a miniscule golden chain. I recalled him giving me this after he rescued me from the Black Hood and insisted that I use it.

It dawned on me that I never took it off.

“Remember, you have that.” He told me. “I shall come for you whenever I know that you are in danger. I also informed my brothers about the whistle, so if ever I am far away, they will protect you.”

There was one detail about the bratty prince that I always somehow forget, maybe because he doesn't particularly show it. Yet due to these kinds of reminders, I recognize this certain detail.

He is kind.

I sniffled, forcing a giggle to hold my tears. “Thanks, little meow meow.”

He must've been flustered by my response, unable to immediately talk. Should I not have said that? I think I ruined the mood.

“Agust—”

At that instant, an extraordinaire scene of a musical that I never anticipated, the ebony-haired prince rested his forehead against mine, eyes closed and expression serene.

I felt my cheeks heat. “What are you doing...?”

“Don't worry. This is all I need.” He guaranteed while his forehead remained pressed on mine.

I fell silent.

He was very unusual tonight.

“...I really hate you.” Prince Agustus whispered.

But the way he said it...

It wasn't full of loathing at all.

Third Person's POV

Queen Isabella was murdered.

The following morning, as the illuminance of the daylight rose from the horizon, the people of Grand were in a tempest of rage and stormed at the gates of the palace, demanding answers.

They loved the queen.

Several soldiers secured the gates. A frantic guard approached the Herald to tell him about the ruckus and the baffled small man went to the Throne Room, informing the king.

Infuriated by the news, King Eldred pondered on what to do. He didn't have the time to flip tables for this one, unfortunately.

He was walking back and forth, enough to make the Herald dizzy as the man awaited for His Majesty's decision. The king required a new plan to alleviate the chaos formed by the mysterious letters and the townsfolk while simultaneously ending the young maiden's life in secret, once and for all.

Then, he abruptly paused.

His lips curved upward.

The king rotated to the man standing in the corner, beside a vase full of gold bars, jewelries, and fancy masks. An idea washed over him.

“Herald, the Grand Masquerade Ball happens this month, yes?” prompted the king, fingers entwined at his lower back.

The Herald was confused as to why he suddenly jumped to another matter but he obediently answered the inquiry nonetheless.

“Precisely, Your Majesty. The noblemen are excited about it already!”

“Hmm,” King Eldred dipped his head, fixed on the roll of parchment paper in the small man's hand. “Proclaim it to the people. I will officially provide an explanation to the entire ordeal on the night of the ball.”

At that, the man was astounded. “But, Your Majesty, the ball is due in a week! The first of our schedule right now is the monthly village visitation—”

“No, we shall have it tomorrow night. Cancel the first of our schedule.”

“Will the villagers accept this? Only gentries and royal families are allowed inside the palace!” asked the Herald with concern. “How will they receive your speech?”

In the king's mind, it was a perfect plan of assassination. It would be a grandiose party. People would be gathered in one place, drunk with mirth and music. No one would differentiate fantasy and reality. No one would notice whether someone dying on the marbled floor was pure entertainment or a diversion of the real rotting corpse.

“Who said they are not able to participate?” King Eldred beamed with fake innocence. “The townsfolk are cordially invited, too.”

Victory shall be his.

A/N: We were so scared! We checked our works and saw our chapters deleted and when we logged out and checked it again, they were there. JWIDJSDN WATTPAD I SWEAR WE SHALL HARM YOU IF EVER YOU DELETE THIS STORY.

ANYWAYS. Oops still capslocked.

Anyways, thank you so much for patiently waiting, loves ♡ Stay safe and hydrated! We purple you!

Nocturnal Armys