The immediate aftermath of General Seraph's assassination was silence... a cold, absolute stillness far worse than the chaos.
Damon was gone, leading the massive, bloody search for the Dragon infiltrator. He left behind a suffocating environment. Isolde's Obsidian Suite was not just guarded, it was imprisoned. The doors were now manned by Damon's most elite guard, their silver eyes cold and relentless, and they didn't move for anything. The outer suite windows were reinforced with an unseen magic that pressed heavily on Isolde's skin, denying her even the small comfort of the night air.
The one relief was the disappearance of Silvana. Damon had ordered his sister confined to her own wing, convinced she was an emotional liability who might compromise the investigation. Isolde was truly alone.
She spent the day pacing, the expensive burgundy silk of her gown feeling like a physical chain. The adrenaline from the interrogation had faded, replaced by profound exhaustion and a desperate anxiety for Draven. She had survived because of the lie and the unexpected Witch power, but Draven was now hunted without a disguise.
She had to assume he was hidden deep in the undercity or the inaccessible maintenance tunnels, relying only on his strength and the brute-force power of his Dragon nature. He was built for war, not stealth, and his massive physique and inherent thermal signature made invisibility impossible. His only advantage was that he was just as powerful as Damon ... and Damon was distracted by the sheer audacity of the attack.
Just before dusk, the doors opened. It wasn't Damon. It was Nyx, accompanied by a single, slender aide.
Nyx looked utterly composed, her usual calculated coldness replacing the panic she had shown the previous night. Her Silver eyes were calm, but held the dangerous glint of someone who sensed opportunity in disaster.
"My brother is busy burying his failures," Nyx stated, walking into the room without invitation. "He has managed to turn a simple political marriage into the pretext for open war with Draconus. Brilliant."
She sat on the edge of the large bed, dismissing her aide with a sharp gesture.
"You have no guards here, Princess," Isolde pointed out, crossing her arms. "Your brother confined me for a reason."
"I am here to thank you," Nyx replied, the words dripping with sarcasm. "Your presence distracted him long enough for the Dragon Prince to commit the most humiliating act against our family in centuries. Now, my brother is off tracking ghosts, and the Queen is finally forced to recognize his weakness."
"Why are you truly here?" Isolde asked, stepping closer.
Nyx tilted her head, her Silver gaze assessing Isolde with frightening intensity. "You resisted his mental probe. Damon did not tell me that, but I can feel the aftershock in the air. A mere human should be putty in his hands, yet you gave him a story he accepted. You have a secret, Isolde, and I intend to claim it."
Isolde swallowed hard, but held her gaze. "I told him the truth of my fear... Nothing more."
"Lies," Nyx purred. "You have a nascent power, a flicker of something ancient. Damon wants to harness it. But I want to use it."
Nyx stood and walked to the wall panel where the secret passage was located. She ran a single, gloved hand over the stone. "The Dragon came in this way. He found you. He spoke to you. Your innocence is a lie, wife of my brother. But your rebellion is useful."
Isolde's breath caught. She didn't have to confirm the truth... Nyx already knew.
"I need access to the armory sub-levels," Nyx whispered, turning back. "Damon keeps the most powerful artifacts of our kingdom hidden there... items that would secure my position against the Queen, items that would end this war before Draven burns us all down."
She opened her palm. Resting on the silk of her glove was a small, dried, dark green herb wrapped in a piece of black thread. The leaves were serrated and deeply veined, looking like miniature pieces of iron.
"This is Iron-Leaf Rue," Nyx explained, her voice low and instructional. "The only known counter-agent to the Vampire's mental compulsion. It's a rare Witch herb. Carry it, and even when Damon locks eyes with you, his mind control will falter. The magical dissonance will be too great."
Isolde stared at the herb. It was the solution to her greatest vulnerability.
"Why give this to me?" Isolde asked, suspicion warring with desperate need.
"Because I need you to survive the next interrogation," Nyx answered plainly. "Damon will interrogate you again when he returns, convinced he missed something. If you break, my access to the armory is ruined. If you hold, you become my asset."
Nyx moved and pressed the small packet into Isolde's hand. The texture was rough and dry, and it felt cool against her skin. "I want you to use the Dragon. I want you to tell him that if he wants to survive his invasion, he must breach the armory for me. Find me the Scepter of Night, and I will give you the key out of here... the key to the Dragon's escape route."
Nyx leaned close, her Silver eyes boring into Isolde. "You are locked in a cage, Isolde. The Dragon is a burning knife. I am offering you the chance to plunge that knife into Damon's back. And you get your freedom. Think of it as a transaction. I get the crown... you get the war."
Nyx smiled, a flash of predatory perfection. "I will be back in three days. By then, Draven must have the plan, and you must have the Rue integrated into your disguise. My brother will return tonight. And he will be looking for blood."
Nyx left as silently as she came, the heavy doors locking into place behind her.
Isolde stood in the middle of the empty room, the packet of Iron-Leaf Rue clutched tight in her hand. The herb felt like cold, hard hope. She had just gained a powerful defensive weapon, but it came with a terrible price... betraying Draven and turning him from a freedom fighter into Nyx's personal thief.
She walked to the wardrobe and pressed the subtle catch. The panel clicked open, revealing the dark, cold mouth of the passage. She felt the heavy, metallic smell of the tunnels calling her.