"Look around," Viremont whispered, her eyes sharp, scanning the lavender‑draped turf. "Something isn't right."
Francis followed her gaze, his breath catching as a shadow shifted. From the hedges, a figure stepped forward — cloaked, deliberate, his presence suffocating.
"It's him," Viremont hissed. "Austin's retainer."
Carmine's hand tightened around the hilt of her sword. Her eyes narrowed, her stance firm. She stepped forward, steel gleaming in the dim light.
The man's voice was low, mocking. "Who are you?" he asked, his steps slow, his blade heavy in his grip.
Carmine's jaw clenched. She whispered to Elaine, her voice urgent. "Go. Get away."
But Elaine shook her head, her eyes wide, her voice trembling yet defiant. "No. I won't leave your side."
The retainer's sword swayed, its weight cutting the air. He lunged forward, and Carmine met him head‑on. Steel clashed, sparks flying, the sound echoing like thunder across the turf.
Francis pulled Viremont back, his eyes locked on the duel. Elaine's breath came in gasps, her hands trembling, her heart pounding.
The retainer pressed harder, his strikes heavy, relentless. Carmine's arms shook under the weight, her blade ringing with each clash. She gritted her teeth, her voice sharp. "Elaine! Go!"
Elaine froze, her eyes shimmering with tears. But Carmine's shout broke her resistance. With grave solemness, Elaine turned, stumbling toward Viremont and Francis. Her steps were heavy, her heart breaking, but she obeyed.
Marco watched from the cliffs above. His eyes widened, his breath caught, his body trembling. Fear consumed him — grave fear, deeper than ever before. His friends were in danger, the clash unfolding below, and the one he loved was trapped in the palace.
Where to go? Who to save? His mind screamed, torn between loyalty and love, between Colden's chains and Elaine's peril.
The clash below raged on. Carmine's blade met the retainer's again and again, sparks flying, steel ringing. Her arms burned, her breath sharp, but her resolve held.
And in the palace, Austin sat upon his throne.
The hall was draped in garlands, the air heavy with incense. He leaned back, his smile sharp, his eyes glinting with arrogance.
The mother — Ralph's — entered, her steps slow, her head bowed. Tears streamed down her face, her voice breaking as she wept. "My sons… all three…" Her grief filled the hall, echoing against the stone.
Austin's smile widened. He watched her bow, her sorrow spilling, and he basked in it.
Then the doors opened again. Colden was dragged forward, chains biting into his wrists, Isabelle and the brothers pulled beside him. The guards shoved them to their knees, their faces pale, their breaths sharp.
Austin rose, his voice dripping with confidence and grave dismay. "Well. If it isn't the whole Windmere itself." He paused, his smile cruel. "Oh wait… one person is still missing. The father."
The brothers growled, their anger burning. Isabelle's eyes blazed, her sorrow turning to fury.
Austin stepped closer, his voice mocking. "You know… my father met your father. It was grave, what happened to him. But do you even know what happened to him?"
Isabelle's voice broke, her shout echoing through the hall. "You know nothing! Dare not say my son's name with your mouth!"
Austin's smile sharpened. "So no… you don't know what happened to him."
Colden's breath shook. He lowered himself to his knees, his voice trembling but steady. "I know… he died of an illness."
Austin's eyes widened, his voice rising in exclamation. "Oh… so you don't know. You've been lied to." He leaned closer, his smile cruel. "I don't know about you… but at least I know why my father died. So…"
His words hung heavy, the hall thick with silence.
Colden's heart pounded, his mind racing. Isabelle's tears fell, the brothers' rage simmered, Ralph's grief echoed.
And Marco, from the cliffs, wept silently. His friends were in chains, Carmine clashed with shadows, Elaine trembled, and Austin's truth threatened to shatter everything.
The storm had begun.
TO BE CONTINUED…
NEXT CHAPTER ON 3rd APRIL 2026