The heavy door closed with a thud. Once she was alone, Wuorin let out a long, deep sigh. She picked up a backpack, which was something she almost never carried, and started walking back and forth in the room.
She whispered to herself, "Arian Shirone…"
She looked back at the closed door, and a cold, scary smile spread across her lips. Her eyes shone with a wild, crazy light, like a little kid who had just found the most amazing toy ever.
"This isn't just a game anymore, is it?" she said to the empty room.
She fell back into her chair, crossed her legs, and rested her chin on her hand, staring at the door as if she could see through it.
Almost everything she had just told Shirone was a lie.
She never planned to be on his side. She never planned to protect his friend, Amy.
Zion wasn't just proud; he was dangerously obsessed. When he wanted something, he would crush anyone to get it.
If Shirone had stayed with her tonight… it would have broken him completely.
"People are so interesting," she mused. "They pretend to trust each other, but deep down, they don't. Isn't that right, Cleo?"
Meow.
Her cat, Cleo, meowed back. He probably didn't understand her words, but that was okay.
Wuorin believed that the truth about trust is too painful for people, so they pretend. She thought the small difference between those who see this truth and those who ignore it is what decides who becomes the boss and who gets bossed around.
She leaned her head back, looked up at the ceiling, and smiled a faint, mysterious smile.
"If you keep trying, Shirone… maybe one day, you'll understand," she whispered.
The cat, of course, didn't reply.
Meanwhile, in another part of the palace, Reina was running as fast as her legs could carry her.
"Hurry up, hurry up!" she urged herself, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest.
She was sprinting toward the annex building because of a terrifying thought: what if the bad guys, the Terraze faction, had hurt Shirone's parents? A cold, heavy feeling settled in her stomach. I should have protected them better, she thought, feeling guilty.
But then she shook her head. No, we did everything we could! She knew their security was very tight. If the bad guys had attacked anyway, it meant they were either very reckless or very desperate.
As she skidded around the corner into the hallway where Shirone's parents were staying, she almost crashed into a group of the Ozent family's attendants.
One of them gasped, "Miss Reina!"
Reina didn't stop to talk. She brushed past them and threw the door open, demanding, "Get out of the way! What's going on in here?"
But the scene inside was peaceful and calm, not at all what she had feared.
Shirone's father, Vincent, was sitting peacefully at a small table, carefully carving a piece of wood. His wife, Olina, was snuggled under a thick, warm blanket, holding a steaming cup of cocoa. They both looked up, surprised to see her.
Vincent put down his carving knife. "Lady Reina?" he said, his voice full of concern. "What's wrong? You look very pale."
Reina opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was too relieved.
They were safe. Both of them were perfectly safe.
Then why did Amy leave with Zion? she wondered, her worry returning instantly.
Just then, an attendant who had been running came into the room, her cheeks red. "Miss, is something wrong? You ran here in such a hurry."
Reina took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Oh, that's… I was just checking to make sure everything was alright in here."
The attendant sighed with relief. "Whew, I thought something terrible had happened. I was about to tell you that everything is perfectly fine here."
But Olina, Shirone's mother, had a sharp instinct when it came to her son. A worried frown appeared on her face. "Is something wrong?" she asked softly. "What about Shirone? Is he okay?"
Reina forced herself to smile a warm, reassuring smile. "He's still at the big party," she said, making her voice sound steady and calm. "He's having a wonderful time with Amy, so there's absolutely nothing to worry about."
When Olina heard that Shirone was with Amy, she relaxed. She felt that if anything was wrong with her son, she would somehow know.
"That's good. I'm glad they're together," Olina said, smiling back. "We are doing very well here, really."
"Haha, that's great to hear," Reina replied with a chuckle. She tried to make it sound real, but her eyes were still worried. "Then please rest well. I'll be heading back now."
She turned and walked out of the room. The moment the door closed behind her, her polite smile vanished, replaced by a look of serious alarm.
Shirone's parents were safe.
But Amy didn't know that.
Which could only mean one thing: Zion had tricked Amy. He was using her, probably by threatening to hurt Shirone's parents.
Reina stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, her eyes wide with shock as she finally understood.
"Why did he take Amy?" she muttered to herself, her voice sharp with fear. "Oh no, Shirone…"
This was a very, very bad situation.
Meanwhile, Amy was following Zion deep underground, into a quiet art gallery.
The palace's underground was strangely silent. Amy didn't know if it was always this quiet or if Zion had made it this way on purpose. You couldn't even hear an ant moving. She figured that since the party was so late, most of the palace workers were probably asleep.
In a way, Amy thought the silence was good for her.
Zion was a prince, but she knew she was a stronger fighter. If she had to, she could defeat him. This quiet, empty space meant she could do it without anyone interrupting.
A scary thought crossed her mind. 'If I have to, I might even have to… kill him.' She didn't like hurting people, but if Shirone's parents were in danger, she couldn't afford to be gentle.
Zion led her into a cavernous room with a gentlemanly smile. Amy saw a thick, double-layered door and made a plan. 'If I need to break that door down to escape, I'll have to save at least two of my strongest spells.'
But that thought disappeared when she saw the inside of the gallery. It was a beautiful, serene room filled with collected artifacts and treasures. Nothing looked like a tool for torture or a weapon.
Her eyes scanned the room and landed on a display case on the north wall. Inside was a sword. You didn't have to be an expert to see that it was a very dangerous and deadly blade.
"Where are Shirone's parents?" Amy demanded, getting straight to the point.
Zion smirked, like he was playing a fun game. "His parents? Hmm. Why should I know anything about that?"
Amy's gaze turned as cold as ice. "You lied to me?"
Zion secretly checked the time. He had about an hour to keep Amy busy. While he was wasting her time here, his assassins, Zenogger and Arius, would be taking care of Shirone.
'One hour…' he thought. For a moment, he felt a little regretful. Amy was truly a remarkable and beautiful woman. But his plan was more important.
"Sorry for lying," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "But you understand, don't you? A little white lie is sometimes necessary when trying to win over a beautiful woman."
Amy had no interest in his flattery. Since he had lied first, she felt she didn't need to be polite. "I'll be leaving now," she said firmly. "Please don't ever ask to see me again."
"Oh? Will you still say that after seeing this?" Zion replied.
He opened his palm. Dangling from his fingers was a beautiful necklace with a fancy cross pendant. Just by looking at it, Amy could tell it was incredibly expensive.
But Amy just scoffed. Her family, the Karmis family, was a famous and powerful noble house. She had seen diamonds and gold her whole life.
"What are you trying to do?" she asked, unimpressed. "Do you really think a petty bribe like this will win me over?"
Zion smirked, as if he had expected her to say that. He stepped closer to her.
"Petty?" he said. "Take a closer look."
Amy glared at him but leaned in to examine the pendant. As a prince, Zion would only carry pure gold. She guessed it was made from at least 500 melted gold coins.
But in the center of the cross was a strange pearl. It was a metallic color, like iron. It wasn't pretty like a normal pearl; its shape was perfect, but it wasn't something a person would wear to look beautiful.
'What is this?' she wondered, confused. 'What's the point of—'
And then, all of a sudden, she understood. Her blood ran cold.