5 Days till the Coronation
Duke Glykeria's Estate, Arian Core
The estate's mansion was adorned with exquisite furnishings carved from Frostcrystal trees, their pale surfaces engraved with coiling Frost dragons. White marble lined the pathways and walls, lending the grounds a quiet, dignified grandeur.
In the courtyard, a graceful fountain stood at the intersection of the walkways. Beside it sat Iris Glykeria, a small sparrow resting calmly in her lap.
"My lady, you've been sulking since yesterday," Flora said. She wore a long-sleeved chainmail shirt paired with navy trousers. "Was the meeting with the Crown Prince truly as smooth as you claimed?"
"I told you, Flora—you worry too much," Iris replied with a faint smile, gently stroking the sparrow's head. "The meeting went well… though I doubt I managed to change anything regarding the marriage."
She paused, then her smile turned mischievous.
"Let's stop talking about yesterday. You still haven't told me the details of your night at the Roselight Brothel."
Flora's cheeks flushed. "I—please remember, I was very drunk when all of that happened."
Iris giggled. "If you weren't, it wouldn't be a good story now, would it?"
Roselight Brothel
Red House District, Arian Core — Fourth Floor
Seraphyx sat on a small stool, his long pink hair cascading down his back. White robes were wrapped loosely around his waist, leaving his abdomen bare. His angelic wings were fully unfurled, spanning the room as Thea carefully plucked the worn feathers caught within them.
"Thea," Seraphyx said gently, his expression calm but serious. "You told me you wished to speak about the information I requested. Now that I am allowing you to tend to my wings, you must keep your promise."
"I would have preferred your complete dragon form," Thea sighed dreamily, placing a plucked feather into a polished pot. "But if you revealed your true self, the entire nation would feel your presence."
"Thea…" Seraphyx sighed, then smiled faintly.
"I apologize, Mother," she said solemnly, her hand brushing softly against his wings. "I'll explain."
"For the past few months, Roselight has been investigating the slave auctions and discreetly passing information to the Arian Knights' Headquarters. These auctions run deep within the underworld. Whoever controls them holds records of countless debts and favors—ties that reach many powerful names."
She exhaled slowly.
"We believed this individual to be a former courtesan of our establishment. Soren. Now known as the Ledger."
Duke Glykeria's Estate
Arian Core
A maid approached Iris and bowed with practiced grace.
"Lady Iris, the new steward wishes to speak with you."
Iris nodded, and the maid withdrew.
"The new steward?" Flora raised an eyebrow. "You didn't mention this."
"Did I forget?" Iris said lightly.
As if on cue, the steward entered the courtyard.
Dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, the violet-haired man bowed deeply. His indigo eyes curved with amusement as he struggled to suppress a chuckle.
"That's Soren," Flora whispered, eyes widening. "Lady Iris… how can you be so daring?"
"Could you give us some privacy, Flora?" Iris asked sweetly, pressing her palms together. "I promise I won't cause trouble."
Flora sighed. "Please… just restrain yourself."
Once she had left, Soren stepped closer, the small scar on his lip shifting with his smile.
"I'll take that to mean you haven't told her the truth."
"Of course not," Iris replied. Her smile slowly faded. "I don't trust her with secrets like this. Now—what's the report?"
Roselight Brothel
Red House District, Arian Core — Fourth Floor
Thea continued, "After you ordered me to investigate Iris Glykeria, many truths surfaced. Her history was carefully fabricated—false trails, rumors, and decoys designed to mislead anyone who looked too closely."
Seraphyx exhaled. "I suspected as much… even without overseeing all of Arian, my intuition wasn't wrong."
"Yes. Though we lack direct evidence, we now know this to be true," Thea said firmly.
"Iris Glykeria is the true ruler of the Underworld. The one who owns every record of debt and favor."
She met his gaze.
"The Ledger."
Duke Glykeria's Estate
Arian Core
"The entire Lesomagiya Auction House has been destroyed," Soren reported, his eyes fixed on Iris. "Our informants within the Arian Knights confirm the cause—the resurrection of the Legendary Leviathan, the Pale Wyrm."
"That isn't possible," Iris said, her gaze lifting slowly to meet his. Her grip on the sparrow tightened.
"I'm afraid not. There were only two survivors—one client and one slave. None of our people escaped."
Iris loosened her hold.
The sparrow took flight at once, vanishing into the open sky.
Roselight Brothel
Red House District, Arian Core — Fourth Floor
The room fell silent.
Seraphyx's wings slowly folded, the soft rustle of feathers the only sound that lingered between them. His gaze remained fixed ahead, distant—not troubled, but thoughtful.
"Thea," he said at last, his voice low. "None of this leaves this room."
Thea stiffened slightly. "You want me to erase the report?"
"No," Seraphyx replied. "Preserve it. But do not expose Iris Glykeria. Not to the Knights. Not to the court. Not even to my children."
She hesitated. "If they knew, it could prevent future unrest."
He shook his head gently.
"No. It would only replace one crutch with another."
Seraphyx finally turned to look at her, his expression calm yet resolute.
"Arian does not lack guardians," he said. "It lacks growth. If every shadow is swept aside by divine hands, my children will never learn to stand on their own."
Thea lowered her gaze. "Even if it means allowing imperfect balances to remain?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Especially then."
She nodded slowly. "As you wish, Mother. Iris Glykeria will remain exactly what she is—unseen."
Seraphyx closed his eyes briefly, as though sealing the decision.
"Let them solve their own world," he murmured. "Only then will it truly belong to them."
King Orios's Chambers, Aethercastle
"Finally… the last report concerning the Tripartite Reckoning of Coin, Harvest, and Feudal Obligation is reviewed. Every document that demanded my attention this summer has been accounted for."
Orios exhaled and leaned back in his chair.
"Oh, truly—office work is not meant for me. And to think all of this will one day fall beneath my son's gaze…" He chuckled softly. "I find myself pitying the boy already."
He rose, stretching his arms as the stiffness left his shoulders.
"Knight Agatha."
The chamber doors opened at once. Short dark hair braided neatly behind her head, pale gray eyes steady, Agatha stepped inside clad in standard Arian armor trimmed in blue.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I am going to see Minerva," Orios said, lifting a long coat from its hook and settling it over his shoulders. "Ensure no one disturbs us."
Agatha inclined her head. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
Courtyard, Aethercastle
The courtyard bloomed quietly beneath the open sky—blue, white, and pale pink flowers swaying in a gentle breeze. A narrow stream wound its way through the stone paths, its banks lined with smooth, silent rocks. Vines climbed the pavilion's pillars, framing a marble table and two meticulously kept chairs.
"Hm…"
A young maid hummed softly as she swept fallen leaves near the pavilion.
'Why did I ever agree to play that foolish card game… Glora thought bitterly. Now I'm made to clean the entire courtyard alone. Rena didn't have to draw my best card. I even signaled her not to.'
A small frown creased her face as a rust-colored strand slipped loose from her braid.
'They're all probably gossiping about the Crown Prince without me…'
She sighed, tucking the strand back behind her ear. Her nametag—Glora—glimmered faintly in the reflected light of the stream.
Footsteps.
Queen Minerva entered the courtyard.
She wore a flowing green silk dress, embroidered with snowflake patterns worked from finely cut crystals. Small crystal pendants shimmered among her dark curls, and black satin gloves traced her arms, ending just below her elbows.
"So exhausting…" Minerva murmured to herself. "With eyes upon my every move, even a moment of peace is denied."
She slowed near the pavilion, unaware of the maid nearby.
"At least here, I may breathe." She exhaled softly. "This place will suffice."
'Mother Seraphyx preserve me—that's the Queen.'
Glora froze and immediately crouched behind a low bush.
'She thinks she's alone. I can't let her notice me now—ruining her peace would be unforgivable.'
She pressed herself lower. I need to leave… but if I rise now, I'll surely be seen.
More footsteps.
King Orios stepped into the courtyard.
'His Majesty? Glora's eyes widened. He's dressed more simply than usual—a dark blue coat worn open at the collar, a crimson shirt beneath, softened by wear rather than ceremony…'
She shook her head slightly. 'Now is not the time to admire fashion. If I move, I'm finished.'
Minerva seated herself within the pavilion and picked up a book resting on the table.
The Beauty of the Raven.
She noticed Orios's presence, but her gaze returned at once to the page.
"What are you reading, dear?" Orios asked gently as he took the seat beside her.
"A work by Rosalyn," Minerva replied coolly, without lifting her eyes. "It tells the tale of a small raven captured by a ruined prince."
"It sounds… fitting," Orios said with a faint smile.
He lifted a hand, tracing a small circle in the air. As he lowered it to the table, two cups of warm cinnamon tea appeared between them.
"The past months have been difficult," Orios said quietly, lifting his cup. "For all of us."
"You needn't explain," Minerva replied, closing the book and placing it between the cups. "I understand the burden you carry—especially with Orion's coronation so near."
Orios looked into his tea, the surface rippling faintly.
"Understanding does not erase fault," he said at last.
Glora clasped both hands over her mouth.
'By the saints… am I truly witnessing this?
Every maid in the castle would trade a month's wages for this moment.'
Orios set his cup down. His hand remained on the table—close enough to hers that the distance between them felt intentional.
"Let me make this right," he said softly.
"Amends—" Minerva began.
But she never finished.
A firm grip seized Glora by the collar.
Aethercastle Hallway
"Have you lost your senses?" Agatha hissed quietly, pressing Glora back against the wall. "If Their Majesties had noticed you, this would be confinement for spying."
"I—I was already here," Glora whispered frantically. "I didn't mean to listen—please—"
Agatha exhaled slowly, then released her.
"This mercy will not be granted twice," she said. "You saw nothing."
Glora nodded furiously as Agatha turned and disappeared down the corridor.
Courtyard, Aethercastle — Half an Hour Later
Glora returned cautiously, broom in hand.
The pavilion stood empty.
Then she saw them.
King Orios and Queen Minerva walked slowly along the garden path, side by side. They spoke little—if at all—but their steps were unhurried, their pace matched.
Minerva's gloved hand rested in Orios's bare one.
Glora's eyes widened.
'Oh. Oh.'
She grinned, barely containing herself as she ducked behind a column.
'I am absolutely becoming the gossip queen of this castle.
She straightened, sweeping with renewed enthusiasm.
Rena, you owe me everything.'