The golden spires of the Eldoria Imperial Palace gleamed against the bright morning sky, but the atmosphere within the courtyard was thick with an ominous, suffocating silence.
There was no grand royal army present, nor any booming fanfares to mark a royal departure.
Under the absolute cover of secrecy, the Empress and the young Prince were preparing to cross the kingdom’s borders.
Surrounding their velvet-lined carriages were only the dark imperial wizards, their hands tucked nervously inside their long obsidian robes.
The Empress stood near the carriage door, her elegant face completely contorted into a tense, rigid mask of burning impatience.
She snapped her sharp eyes toward the kneeling wizards, her voice dropping into a piercing, furious hiss that made them break into a cold sweat.
“Hurry up, all of you!
The dam of my patience is completely breaking!
I must meet with that ancient sorcerer as quickly as humanly possible!”
“Right away, Her Majesty!” the head wizard stammered, bowing frantically.
Without wasting a single second, the Empress and the young Prince stepped into the grand, crestless royal carriage, while the dark wizards scrambled into the secondary transport vehicle.
With a sharp click of the reins, both carriages surged forward, abandoning the imperial gates and racing past the kingdom’s borders toward the forgotten, mist-shrouded territories.
Meanwhile, miles away within the quiet, sunlit sanctuary of the Rosenberg master bedchamber, a completely different scene of silent devotion was taking place.
Killian lay motionless across the grand royal bed.
Stripped of his heavy black tailored uniform, his powerful torso and long hands were tightly swathed in thick rows of pristine white linen bandages, hiding the deep, gruesome wounds inflicted by the Gargoyle’s stone arrows.
Standing vigil right beside the mattress was Evelyn.
Her amethyst eyes were bloodshot from a total lack of sleep, her hands trembling slightly as she carefully applied a cooling herbal ointment over the final layers of his bandages to soothe his burning flesh.
Suddenly, a low, gravelly groan escaped Killian’s throat.
His heavy eyelids fluttered open with immense difficulty, his sharp midnight-blue eyes shifting slowly across the ceiling before finally locking onto the pale face hovering above him.
“Evelyn…
you…” Killian whispered, his deep morning voice incredibly weak and strained.
Evelyn’s heart skipped a violent beat as she saw him awaken.
She instantly leaned forward, her voice fluttering with a mixture of intense worry and relief.
“Killian!
Please, just lie down comfortably and rest.
Do not move too much, otherwise the wounds will cause you immense pain.”
Killian let out a shallow, pained breath, a soft, incredibly faint trace of his signature arrogant smile tugging at his lips as he looked at her flustered expression.
“Do not worry…
I am perfectly fine.
I am absolutely not going to die this easily.”
Hearing his stubbon words, the emotional pressure building inside Evelyn’s chest finally ruptured.
Tears of intense guilt and sorrow welled up rapidly in her amethyst eyes, spilling down her burning cheeks.
She reached out, wrapping her small fingers around his right hand, clutching it with immense, trembling force as a soft sob escaped her lips.
“Look at you…
please forgive me, Killian!
All of this horrific destruction and pain is happening strictly because of me, isn’t it?!
If I had never begged you to protect me from the palace, none of this would have ever occurred.
You wouldn’t be lying here bleeding!”
She lowered her head, her voice cracking with deep sorrow as she made a painful resolve.
“I…
I shall leave this mansion.
Before she could pull her hand back, Killian’s long fingers suddenly tightened around hers.
Despite his absolute exhaustion, his grip was firm and unyielding.
He looked straight into her tear-stained face, his midnight-blue eyes flashing with a powerful, protective authority.
“I have formally given you my absolute vow to protect your life…
therefore, I shall perform that duty until the very end.
You shall reside right here, by my side, remaining strictly as my fiancée.”
He paused, forcing his shallow breath to steady as his voice dropped into a deep, resonant rumble.
“Just remember one thing…
as long as I am breathing, never worry about your own safety.
And I am absolutely not going to die.”
Hearing his fierce, possessive reassurance, a soft, beautiful smile broke across Evelyn’s face through her flowing tears.
She nodded softly, wiping her eyes as the crushing weight of her guilt began to melt away under his gaze.
Knock.
Knock.
Sebastian’s low, deadpan voice carried clearly from the corridor.
“My Lord, it is I.”
Evelyn quickly composed herself, clearing her throat as she called out softly, “You may enter.”
The heavy oak doors opened fully, and the sophisticated head butler stepped into the chamber, his deadpan mask firmly in place.
The moment he entered, Killian began to use his uninjured arm to force his upper body off the mattress, attempting to sit upright against the headboard.
“Killian, wait—” Evelyn gasped, rushing forward instantly to provide a firm, gentle support underneath his shoulders, carefully assisting him until he was sitting comfortably.
Once he was settled, she stepped back slightly, standing protectively near the edge of the bed.
Killian adjusted his posture, his icy gaze locking onto his butler.
“Speak, Sebastian.
What has occurred?”
Sebastian stepped forward, bowing elegantly as his voice dropped into a serious, highly urgent register.
“My Lord…
a crucial report has just arrived.
It has been confirmed that the Empress and the Prince have officially departed from the Imperial Palace, accompanied strictly by all of their dark wizards.
They have completely crossed the outer borders of the kingdom.”
Killian’s midnight-blue eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits, his mind instantly entering a state of deep, calculating reflection.
The fact that the royal family had left the capital without a single segment of their royal army was highly unusual and dangerous.
After a long, silent pause, Killian spoke, his voice dripping with an absolute command.
“If any matter or disturbance appears even slightly strange or out of place from this moment forward…
come and report the news to me immediately.
Understood?”
“Yes, My Lord.
I shall monitor everything with the utmost perfection,” Sebastian replied with a respectful bow.
Evelyn stepped closer to the bedside, her voice filled with a sweet, maternal concern as she looked down at the injured Duke.
“Killian…
please allow the staff to serve lunch now.
You must eat properly so that your physical strength returns quickly.”
“Have you consumed your own meal yet, Evelyn?”
Evelyn shifted her gaze away nervously, whispering softly, “No…
I have not eaten yet.”
Before Killian could even question her, Sebastian chimed in instantly, his deadpan voice carrying a subtle trace of respect.
“My Lord…
Her Highness was completely consumed by intense worry for your health.
Therefore, she refused to touch a single plate of food until you awakened.”
Killian turned his piercing gaze toward his head butler, a faint, unreadable softness passing through his eyes as he commanded smoothly, “Sebastian.
Go down to the kitchens and have our lunch brought directly to this chamber.
Evelyn and I shall consume our meals right here in this room together.”
A rare smile of profound approval crossed Sebastian’s deadpan features.
“Right away, My Lord.
I shall have it prepared immediately.”
The butler bowed deeply, turning on his heel to exit the grand master bedchamber, closing the heavy doors softly behind him.
Meanwhile, miles away from the peaceful Rosenberg duchy, the two royal carriages had deep entered into a dense, terrifyingly quiet jungle situated far beyond the borders of Eldoria.
The twisted, ancient trees grew so tightly together that they completely blocked out the warm morning sun, plunging the path into a dreary, fog-covered twilight.
Suddenly, the lead carriage ground to a violent halt on the damp earth.
The door flew open, and the young Prince stepped out onto the grass, his hand resting tightly on the hilt of his golden sword.
The Empress remained seated inside the luxurious, velvet-lined interior, her dark eyes flashing with irritation as she looked out through the glass.
“Why have we stopped, my son?
Are we there?”
The Prince stood in the clearing, his eyes scanning the horizon.
He pointed his long finger toward a massive, jagged mountain peak rising in the distance, completely shrouded beneath a thick, swirling vortex of unnatural black clouds that crackled with forbidden energy.
“Look over there, Mother,” the Prince spoke with a sinister, confident smile.
“Directly upon that mountain peak where the black clouds gather…
that is exactly where our destination lies.”
The Prince climbed back into the carriage, closing the door securely as the horses surged forward once more, navigating the treacherous path toward the base of the dark mountain.
Inside the quiet interior, the Empress adjusted her heavy silk robes, leaning back against the cushions as she turned her calculating gaze toward her biological son.
Her voice carried an immense curiosity.
“Tell me, my child…
how on earth did you manage to acquire such specific knowledge regarding the existence of this mysterious black magic sorcerer?”
The Prince let out a cold, mocking laugh, his eyes flashing with an unadulterated, wicked ambition as he looked at his mother.
“Mother, after all, I am your biological son.
I possess a complete, absolute understanding of everything regarding the dark arts, forbidden magic, and dark forces.
I have spent years studying the hidden secrets of this continent.”
The Prince leaned forward, his features contorting into a ruthless, confident expression as a shadow of pure malice washed over his face.
“We merely need to reach that ancient sorcerer’s sanctuary.
Once we manage to secure his allegiance and acquire his personal dark entities…
we can comfortably sit back and watch as Grand Duke Rosenberg’s final countdown officially begins!”