In the darkness of the night, a man dressed entirely in black spoke to someone in a hushed voice.
Soldier: "A message has arrived from Château de Brissac."
Man: "Give it to me. I'll deliver it to the King myself. When the time comes for the decision, I'll send word back."
The man took the message and, without hesitation, burned it. His face was hidden beneath a dark hood, his body wrapped completely in black garments. No one could recognize him. The message was destroyed before it ever reached the King's hands.
Morning light streamed through the windows, falling gently upon the open book on Famoura's desk. When she looked closer, she noticed that the sunlight revealed faint maroon letters shimmering across the crimson fabric pages.
Startled, she hurried to the library and pulled out a book about her town's history. There she discovered that the mysterious book was known as The Crimson, named after the deep red dye used to inscribe its words upon fabric pages.
Just then, her teacher called her downstairs for lessons. Famoura quickly hid the book and rushed toward the staircase—when suddenly, the echo of galloping horses and the clamor of soldiers filled the air…
Everyone in the castle rushed upstairs, their eyes drawn to the chaos unfolding outside. Princess Marie and Princess Catherine hurriedly grabbed Famoura's hand and pulled her along. Together, they joined the others at the balcony.
Below, an enormous army stretched across the fields — a vast force ready for war.
Queen Isabella: "Now is the time, Francis. Hand over the Crimson Book, or we'll take both your kingdom and your town of Crimson."
King Francis: "Henry… how did this happen so suddenly?"
Minister William: "Your Majesty, look at this. King Francis burned an important message — he wanted us to lose this war."
Everyone's gaze turned toward Famoura.
Famoura: "Why are you looking at me? I didn't do it! If I had, I would've said it out loud!"
King Francis: "Whoever did it… I'll deal with them later."
Queen Isabella: "Give me The Crimson, and I'll spare your Château de Chambord."
King Francis: "We don't have the Crimson anymore. It was burned along with Queen Margaret."
Queen Isabella: "Lies! It still exists. Then we'll take the castle and the Crimson!"
Prince Henry (thinking): That means… the Crimson still exists… and it's here, in this very town.
Without wasting a moment, Henry ran off in search of the book.
Famoura: "No! The Crimson is with me!"
She darted after him.
Catherine: "Famoura!" she cried out from behind.
Outside, the war had begun — soldiers clashing at the borders, steel ringing through the air. Amid the chaos, one enemy soldier slipped inside the castle.
Meanwhile, Henry and Famoura crossed paths — swords drawn.
Famoura: "The Crimson belongs to me!"
Henry: "It's mine! My name is written within it!"
Their blades clashed fiercely until both grew exhausted and broke apart, fleeing in different directions.
Famoura kept hiding the Crimson in different places, while Henry searched desperately for it.
At last, one of the invading soldiers finally spotted the book. Henry stood unknowingly just in front of it.
Before Henry could react, a fierce general stepped forward, his sword flashing in the torchlight. He was about to strike when Famoura appeared from behind and cut him down with a single, swift move.
Prince Henry: You've saved my life!
Famoura: No, Your Highness — I've saved all of ours.
A roar echoed through the halls as Prince Louis shouted over the chaos.
Prince Louis: Half our army has already fallen! The enemy has breached the castle! Henry, run!
Clutching the Crimson Book, Famoura hid it beneath her cloak and fled through the burning corridors. The shadows of Kira soldiers followed her, their swords clashing behind.
She ran, breathless, until she burst through the castle gates — only to find an entire army waiting outside.
As she turned to retreat, a rough hand seized her from behind, and a cold blade pressed against her throat.
Man: We know the Crimson is with you.
Famoura: It's not with me!
Man: Give it to us, or we'll take your hand instead!
Famoura: I swear, I don't have it!
Suddenly, from the mist rode a figure cloaked in black — his face hidden beneath a dark hood. He threw a dagger that struck the man down instantly.
Seizing the moment, Famoura broke free and ran — away from the castle, into the night, her heart pounding with fear and destiny alike.
She ran and ran until the world blurred around her; the pain and the pounding in her chest became unbearable. At the edge of her endurance she stumbled, the darkness closing in, and she fell unconscious on the cold earth.