The very next morning arrived beneath a sky of pale silver.
Princess Famoura Felóenz did not waste a single moment.
No rest.
No peace.
No hesitation.
The instant sunlight touched the towers of Château de Chambord, she was already moving through the forest path, her dark cloak billowing behind her like a shadow caught in the wind.
Her heart burned.
Not with fear.
Not with confusion.
With fury.
Someone had dared to harm her mother.
And Famoura Felóenz was not known for forgiveness.
Each step struck the earth sharply as she hurried through the woodland trail.
Her thoughts replayed the previous night endlessly.
Princess Catherine's trembling body.
Her strangled cries.
The invisible force pressing upon her chest.
The suffocating darkness.
The helplessness.
Famoura's hands clenched tighter.
If someone was responsible for that nightmare—
she would find them.
And she would make them answer.
Soon, the familiar outline of Sylvester Woodland Library emerged through the trees.
The ancient building stood silently beneath the morning light.
Its wooden walls seemed older than memory itself.
Famoura pushed open the door.
The hinges creaked softly.
Dust drifted through beams of sunlight.
The scent of old parchment and aged wood greeted her immediately.
Everything appeared the same.
Yet somehow—
the library felt colder.
As though it already knew why she had come.
And then she saw them.
Elizabeth.
Anthony.
Victor.
Edward.
The four stood gathered near one of the reading tables, speaking quietly among themselves.
The moment Famoura entered, all conversation ceased.
They turned toward her.
One glance was enough.
No explanation was needed.
Something terrible had happened.
Famoura crossed the room without greeting.
Without smiling.
Without pretending.
When she reached them, she began speaking immediately.
And she told them everything.
Every detail.
Every terror.
Every moment she wished she could forget.
She described how Princess Catherine had been trapped within her sleep.
How her body had refused to move.
How some unseen force seemed determined to crush the life from her.
She described entering her mother's nightmare.
The darkness.
The fear.
The sensation of something ancient and hateful lurking beyond sight.
When she finished, silence filled the library.
A silence so heavy it seemed to settle upon the books themselves.
Anthony looked disturbed.
Victor's expression darkened.
Elizabeth folded her arms tightly.
Edward remained motionless.
Then Elizabeth finally sighed.
Strangely enough—
she did not look surprised.
"Honestly," she said softly.
"This does not shock me."
Famoura stared.
"It doesn't?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
"Not anymore."
Victor clenched his fists.
"Only something evil could do such a thing."
The atmosphere tightened immediately.
Anthony swallowed nervously.
Then Edward stepped forward.
"Wait."
The single word silenced everyone.
Edward raised two fingers.
"From what I know, such visitations occur for only two reasons."
No one interrupted.
Even the wind outside seemed to fall silent.
Edward lowered one finger.
"The first reason..."
His voice became grave.
"The victim develops an attraction toward a dark force."
Anthony blinked.
"What kind of force?"
Edward's gaze remained steady.
"A demon."
A pause.
"Or Satan himself."
A chill swept through the room.
Elizabeth looked away.
Victor's confidence faltered.
Edward lowered his second finger.
"The second possibility is black magic."
Those words struck harder.
Much harder.
Edward's voice became colder.
"Someone could be controlling her."
His eyes narrowed.
"Or attempting to destroy her from the shadows."
The moment he finished speaking, Famoura shot to her feet.
Her chair scraped violently across the floor.
Everyone jumped.
Fire burned within her eyes.
"If even a single scratch appears on my mother—"
Her voice trembled with fury.
"I swear I shall destroy whoever is responsible."
The room seemed to tremble alongside her anger.
Even the lamp flame flickered.
Anthony instinctively stepped backward.
Elizabeth's eyes widened.
Victor looked impressed.
And slightly frightened.
But before Famoura could storm away, a hand caught her wrist.
Edward.
His grip was firm.
Yet calm.
"Sit down."
Famoura glared at him.
Edward didn't move.
"Think with your mind."
His voice remained steady.
"Not your anger."
For several moments neither spoke.
Then Edward continued.
"Your rage is justified."
His expression softened slightly.
"But protecting your mother is more important than revenge."
Famoura's breathing slowly steadied.
Edward looked toward the others.
"If we wish to save her, we must uncover the truth."
His eyes sharpened.
"We must discover who is pulling the strings."
A pause.
"And you will not be doing it alone."
For a moment, Famoura simply stared.
Then Anthony spoke.
"We're with you."
Elizabeth nodded.
"Always."
Victor crossed his arms.
"Naturally."
Even Edward allowed himself a faint smile.
The warmth that followed surprised Famoura.
For the first time since the nightmare—
she no longer felt alone.
Yet the moment did not last.
Anthony suddenly cleared his throat.
His expression became uncertain.
"What if..."
Everyone looked toward him.
Anthony swallowed.
"What if this has something to do with Vimpyr?"
The room froze.
Every trace of comfort vanished instantly.
Famoura's expression stiffened.
Victor frowned.
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.
Anthony continued carefully.
"Ever since we encountered him..."
His voice lowered.
"Strange things have happened."
Silence.
Victor shook his head immediately.
"No."
His answer was firm.
"That creature cannot be behind everything."
Elizabeth stepped forward.
"How can you know that?"
Victor opened his mouth.
Elizabeth continued before he could answer.
"He used memory-erasing magic against us."
Her voice was cold.
"If he can do that, then why couldn't he do this as well?"
Victor's jaw tightened.
"That's different."
"How?"
The argument threatened to erupt.
Fear became suspicion.
Suspicion became accusation.
Then—
"Enough."
Edward's voice sliced through the room like a blade.
Instant silence.
His eyes swept across them.
"All of you are searching for an enemy because it is easier than searching for the truth."
Nobody spoke.
Edward continued.
"Vimpyr is the guardian of the Felóenz family."
The words struck harder than thunder.
Famoura's head snapped toward him.
Her heartbeat stumbled.
"What?"
Edward met her gaze calmly.
"You did not know?"
Famoura stared.
Unable to answer.
Edward folded his arms.
"Vimpyr is not your enemy."
His voice grew heavier.
"He was once the protector of your bloodline."
The room fell deathly quiet.
Edward continued.
"During the reign of Queen Margret..."
Famoura stiffened immediately.
The name alone carried weight.
Mystery.
Fear.
History.
Edward lowered his voice.
"Vimpyr guarded the castle."
Anthony's eyes widened.
Victor looked stunned.
Elizabeth turned pale.
Edward continued.
"He protected the royal family."
A pause.
"And when you were born..."
His gaze shifted toward Famoura.
"It was Vimpyr who saved your life."
Famoura's breath caught.
For several moments she simply stared.
Unable to process what she had heard.
Edward's expression darkened.
"But after Queen Margret was accused..."
The atmosphere became colder.
"...and condemned to death..."
His voice became almost a whisper.
"The Vimpyrs were cursed."
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Edward pointed downward.
"Beneath this very library."
His voice echoed softly.
"They were imprisoned."
The words settled heavily upon the room.
Famoura clenched her fists.
"Accused?"
Her voice sharpened immediately.
"Do not speak as though she were innocent."
Anger flashed across her face.
"Queen Margret received the punishment she deserved."
Edward remained calm.
"When I was younger, I overheard two soldiers discussing it."
Famoura shook her head.
"No."
Her voice hardened.
"That story cannot be true."
Victor immediately pointed toward Edward.
"Exactly."
His confidence returned.
"If Vimpyr was truly the protector of the Felóenz family, then why attack us?"
Victor crossed his arms.
"King Francis cursed him and sealed him inside Evigheden Library for a reason."
A faint smile touched Edward's lips.
Mocking.
Almost pitying.
"You truly possess the cheapest imagination in France."
Victor looked offended.
Edward ignored him.
"Have you considered the possibility that he simply did not recognize Famoura?"
Silence.
Edward looked directly at the princess.
"Many people could have used her name over the years."
His gaze sharpened.
"Why would he trust anyone without proof?"
Famoura lowered her eyes.
For the first time, uncertainty entered her expression.
"But..."
Her voice was quiet.
"How would I ever make him believe me?"
No one had an answer.
Then Elizabeth stepped forward.
"Enough."
Her tone was firm.
"Vimpyr can wait."
Everyone looked at her.
Her eyes settled upon Famoura.
"We must focus on Princess Catherine."
Anthony nodded.
Victor reluctantly agreed.
Edward remained thoughtful.
And Famoura fell silent.
Because she understood something now.
This was no longer a simple nightmare.
No longer a forgotten legend.
No longer a mystery hidden within an ancient library.
This was a conspiracy.
A dark one.
And somewhere beyond their sight—
someone had already begun moving the pieces.
The war had already started.
And Château de Chambord had not yet realized the battlefield lay within its own walls.