"They're sharper than I thought. Always has been."
The Architect moved toward the table, tracing his finger over the map. "The General doesn't trust anyone. Not even his own luck."
Then, quietly, "Good. It'll make breaking him that much more rewarding."
The agent shifted nervously, then remembered the other name he was meant to report.
"My lord… there's also news about Her Imperial Highness, Princess Daphne."
That name stilled the Architect's hand.
He turned, slowly. "The princess?" he repeated.
"Yes, my lord. She gave birth... to a son."
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, interest, longing, and an emotion that was almost tenderness.
Almost.
He smiled faintly, though his tone was dark.
"Daphne Blake… even fate bows to you."
The agent hesitated before adding, "She remains under guard in the Imperial Palace. Her health is… fragile."
For a moment, silence. Then the Architect's voice dropped to a whisper.
"She's too beautiful to be wasted in a war."
