The room was white, not clean-white or peaceful-white. It was clinical, intentional and endless.
The two men sat restrained across from one another, wrists cuffed to a steel table bolted into the floor. Their clothes still smelled faintly of smoke and alcohol, remnants of the club, the chaos, the screaming crowd that had scattered when fear rippled through neon lights and bass-heavy walls.
They had been taken before they could even understand what happened. One moment reaching for their target, the next, black hoods, silence, transport. Now, they sat beneath the quiet hum of hidden cameras.
A door opened without sound and the King entered first. He was older, silver threading through his dark hair, posture straight with the kind of authority that did not need to announce itself. Power followed him like a shadow, not loud, not cruel, simply absolute.
The Queen followed beside him, her expression was calm, too calm. She took one look at the men and felt nothing but disappointment.
"Begin," she said softly.
A voice echoed through hidden speakers.
"You were paid to cause panic at a public venue."
One of the men swallowed hard.
"Yes."
"To scare two women," the voice continued. "One of them a public figure. The other… not."
Silence.
The Queen stepped forward slowly, heels clicking once, then stopping.
"Say her name."
The man hesitated.
The King's voice cut in, even, lethal.
"Nara."
The man's shoulders slumped.
"Yes," he breathed. "That was the name."
The Queen's eyes darkened not with anger, but recognition. Something old stirred in her chest, something she did not yet allow herself to name.
"And who hired you?" the voice asked.
This time, the answer came quicker.
"The Alarics."
The room shifted and the Queen closed her eyes for a brief moment, not in shock, but confirmation.
"So they dared," she murmured.
The King's jaw tightened.
"They have overstepped before. Quietly and strategically."
He looked at the men again.
"Did you know who else was watching that night?"
They shook their heads violently.
"No. Someone else moved first. Took our men cleanly at military-level."
The Queen exchanged a glance with the King.
"She was protected," the Queen said softly. "Even before we stepped in."
The King nodded.
"Keigh Dynamite."
The Queen turned slightly, thoughtful now. "So the boy has teeth after all."
the King replied. "His security protocols were activated within seconds. Extraction was clean. He moved the women off-grid immediately."
The Queen's fingers paused on the screen.
"And yet," she said slowly, "our unit reached the culprits first."
The King nodded. "Which means he knows someone else was there."
"But not who."
"Every trail he followed ended exactly where we designed it to," the King said. "No identifiers, no financial links, no digital residue."
The Queen closed the file.
"Good."
She stood and walked toward the window, stopping beside him. Silence stretched and then the Queen spoke again, softer this time.
"She doesn't know anything, does she?"
The King shook his head. "Nothing beyond what she's sensed. Confusion. Unease. The feeling of being watched."
The Queen exhaled slowly.
"She's living an ordinary life," she said. "Working, laughing, going out with friends."
"She shouldn't have to stop yet," the King replied.
The Queen turned back toward the table and opened a second folder. This one was embossed with gold.
"A controlled approach," she said. "No fear, no force and no revelations."
The King read the heading.
Royal Cultural Ball — Private Commission
"She works in events," he said.
"Yes," the Queen replied. "She's respected, discreet, professional and trusted by powerful clients."
He looked at her then, something unspoken passing between them.
"You want her invited," he said.
"I want her hired," the Queen corrected. "On merit, through official channels. No royal guards and no questions that raise alarms."
"And if she refuses?"
"She won't," the Queen said gently. "She's responsible and she values her work."
The King nodded slowly.
"And Keigh?"
The Queen's lips curved faintly, not a smile.
"He will stay exactly where he is," she said. "Close enough to protect her. Far enough to never see us coming."
The King glanced once more at Nara's photograph on the table.
"She looks like..."
"Like nothing," the Queen interrupted softly. Then, after a pause, "and everything."
She closed the folder.
"Prepare the invitation," she said. "We move carefully now."
As the King signaled for the guards, neither of them noticed the way the wind shifted outside, or how fate, once stirred, had begun tightening its grip because Nara was no longer just being watched. She was being approached, and the crowns had decided it was time.