“Is the carriage prepared, Malakai?” Caelum’s deep baritone vibrated through the grand stone entryway of the manor.
He stood tall, dressed in his sleek, form-fitting black military coat lined with heavy silver embroidery.
The dark fur mantle resting over his broad shoulders made his massive frame appear even more imposing.
His crimson eyes, now completely clear and sharp, fixed onto the elderly butler.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Malakai replied, bowing his head smoothly as he stepped backward to clear a path.
“The grand black carriage is waiting in the inner courtyard. The vanguard has already cleared the mountain road.”
Caelum didn’t offer a nod.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Vivienne as she descended the final marble steps of the grand staircase.
The structure-heavy gown of deepest obsidian silk hugged her narrow waist and smooth curves flawlessly, the armored silver thread gleaming like a warning under the shadow-stone lamps.
Her long dark hair was pinned back with a stark, silver hairpin, and the dark mana crystals around her high collar pulsed with a faint, rhythmic purple glow.
The haggard look from the night before was entirely gone; she stood straight, rigid, and dripping with an undeniable regal authority.
Caelum stepped forward, his large, leather-gloved hand reaching out to firmly clasp hers. This story is hosted at g.com.
His fingers wrapped around her small palm with a tight, commanding grip that left no room for distance.
He didn’t say a word, his touch carrying a silent, protective weight as he led her out of the manor doors and toward the courtyard.
The grand black carriage stood waiting, its dark iron-reinforced plating glistening beneath the steady drizzle of the northern rain.
Caelum opened the carriage door, assisting Vivienne inside before sliding his massive frame onto the velvet cushions directly opposite her.
As the door remained open for a final second, Vivienne turned her head back.
Her cool, bottomless dark eyes locked directly onto Malakai, who stood holding the iron door handle.
It was an intense, freezing stare.
She didn’t drop a single word, but the deadpan stillness of her face felt like an explicit, sharp needle piercing straight through his chest.
It was a silent warning.
A message that told the butler she knew exactly what he was hiding beneath the floorboards of the east wing.
Malakai’s breath hitched, a cold shiver running straight down his spine.
With a slow, deliberate movement, he closed the heavy carriage door, the iron locks clicking shut with a final thud.
The carriage violently jerked forward, the wheels grinding sharply against the frosted gravel as it sped out of the Obsidian Domain.
Standing alone in the rainy courtyard, Malakai let out a long, ragged sigh, his hand trembling slightly as he pressed it against his chest.
He looked toward the distant, gray southern horizon, his mind filled with a heavy, suffocating anxiety.
I only hope the message I sent through the secret network reaches the palace before she arrives, the butler thought grimly, his knuckles whitening.
If Julian does not prepare for this, the capital will turn into a slaughterhouse.
Inside the carriage, the journey toward the imperial district remained dead silent.
The steady, rhythmic clatter of the horses’ hooves against the mountain road was the only sound cutting through the interior space.
Neither Vivienne nor Caelum spoke a single word.
Vivienne sat with her head resting against the velvet cushions, her gaze fixed out the window as the dark pine forests flew past, her mind calculating the exact placement of Julian’s knights at the palace gates.
Opposite her, Caelum sat with his arms folded across his chest, his piercing crimson eyes tracked onto her face, watching the way the dim moonlight caught the pale lines of her neck.
They were both entirely lost in the dark current of their own thoughts, preparing for the exact moment the heavy palace doors would be ripped wide open.