The Sun-King studied Elizabeth for a second longer than protocol allowed. There was no disapproval in his gaze. Only raw assessment. That kind of silence that waged wars without raising a voice.
He then nodded, slow, heavy.
—Firm education, — he murmured, more to the Queen than to the hall. —Did not falter. Good sign.
He seated himself on the black oak chair as one claiming something that had never ceased to be his. The throne did not receive him. He occupied it. As he settled, his eyes returned to Theodor, hard, incisive, full of unspoken things. A father who does not ask. A king who demands.
The Queen Mother moved last.
Elizabeth's bow did not deceive her. Nothing deceived her.
She accepted the gesture with a slight, precise tilt of the head, elegant, exact, and took her place with the calm of someone who knows exactly where she sits and why. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers interlaced, posture impeccable.
—House Ebony, — she said, in a neutral tone, hearing Dandara's name. —Interesting choice of company.
Her eyes slid across the hall again, cold as a blade under silk.
—Conversations shape reputations, — she added, almost casually. —Especially when one is young… and observed.
The King let out a low sound, somewhere between a short laugh and a warning.
—This banquet is more instructive than I expected.
He rested his arm on the chair's back and returned his gaze to the hall.
—Let it continue, — he said, firmly. —We are watching.
And they were.
All knew, but none would be foolish enough to say it aloud. That would be an unnecessary detail.
Elizabeth descended the steps, making her way toward Theodor when her assistant Astrid entered. Her hair was silver, cut asymmetrically—right side long, like a sweeping fringe, left side cropped to shoulder height.
—Your Majesty!
She began, holding a silver-mooned paper with a seal of deep blue, as dark as the beginning night sky. Elizabeth froze, impeccable, her steps toward Theodor halting to adjust course toward her assistant.
—What is it?
She asked softly, for only the two to hear. Astrid, rigid as a rusted iron doll, extended the envelope, its right edge stained with blood, smearing the wax of the seal.
—This…
She held it with hands too firm. Her hair ceased its movement; the air around her seemed frozen, as if fearing she might strike for simply existing.
—Come!
She commanded, her tone torn yet with murderous sweetness. With a discreet nod, she glanced at Theodor; her eyes spoke: "I will withdraw; I leave you in command." The moment their eyes broke contact, she departed with a young woman in a night-blue suit, the Sol of Midnight pack symbol gleaming in vibrant silver, sapphire, and blood-red on the split pomegranate.
Leaving the hall for now.
The hall felt it before understanding.
Elizabeth's deviation from the expected course was the first crack. The second was the silence that spread like oil over water. The music did not stop—but lost its meaning. The lyres continued playing for no one.
Theodor noticed the nod. Not as a fiancé. As an Alpha.
He straightened immediately, his body reacting before his mind. His golden eyes followed Elizabeth and the assistant to the doors, then dropped to the floor for one second too long. The wolf inside him growled low, uneasy, recognizing the metallic scent that should not be there. Blood out of context always meant rupture.
—Something has gone out of control, — murmured a nearby Beta, more to himself than anyone else.
The elite circles began to turn. Not loudly. Never loudly.
—Did you see the seal? — That is from the Sol of Midnight. —Blood on lunar correspondence is a declaration, not a warning. —Who would dare during a consecrated banquet?
Dandara, on the opposite side of the hall, felt a shiver run up her spine before hearing a single word. Her fingers clutched the pink fabric of her new dress, her eyes instinctively seeking Theodor. He did not look back. Not because he would not. Because he could not.
The Queen Mother observed everything with clinical attention. The angle of the exit. Astrid's rigidity. Elizabeth's absence of panic. This was not surprise. It was confirmation.
—It is not an attack, — she said to the King, in a low tone. —It is a message.
The Sun-King clenched his jaw.
—Messages in blood are sent when someone believes they will not be punished.
He turned to Theodor again, now without any softness.
—Rule, — he commanded, dryly. —Or someone will rule for you.
Theodor drew a deep breath, summoning the wolf to the surface without letting it spill over. He rose.
—The banquet continues, — he announced, voice firm enough to cut through murmurs. —No one leaves the hall without escort. Inner gates closed. Discreetly.
The Alphas nodded. The Betas moved. Guards began positioning like obedient shadows.
But the hall had already understood one thing.
Elizabeth had not left on a whim. She had left because something ancient had been touched.
And when the Sol of Midnight bleeds, entire kingdoms often learn the difference between feast and funeral.
Elizabeth led Astrid to one of the castle's art rooms.
She stopped before a large window and, hands trembling, opened the envelope.
Its contents froze her blood as if all her veins had turned to dry ice.
The letter contained something that did not seem real.
*"Princess Renesmee Elizabeth, the first and only heir to the Lycan throne, and future Luna of the Dawn Kingdom.
We beg for your immediate return to the domains of the Lunar Mountains!
There has been an incursion into the Forest of Incandescent Stars, where your half-sister Arabella has disappeared. Searches on lunar soil were conducted; however, due to bloodstains found among the white rose beds of your cultivation, we fear our borders and dominion have been invaded by renegade mercenaries. With the Lycan King absent, we fear we may have fallen into a premeditated ambush. Return as swiftly as possible—your blood calls for aid."*
—Astrid! When did this arrive? Which Beta brought it?
She turned, crushing the letter in her hands, her fingers consuming the paper with lethal ease.
—Tell me everything you know about this, and report how the caravan passage through the Solari Mountains is proceeding.
She turned toward the window.
—Safira, this blood… can you detect Arabella's scent? Tell me something to keep me sane—or I will destroy something… or someone!