Recap:
With the timeline unraveling, Lynx has been summoned to Princess Calista Wynvere's banquet two weeks earlier than expected. Serenya delivered the message, but Vara Nyx offered to be his escort — each choice carrying political and personal risks. Meanwhile, the Princess herself seems far too pleased with his acceptance.
Lynx had faced execution scenes, assassination attempts, and the slow drip of poison from a crystal goblet — but none of it required the same level of preparation as attending Princess Calista's Crimson Court.
The court was more than a gathering. It was theatre.
Every smile hid a knife, and every toast was a veiled declaration of war.
[Quest Updated: Choose Your Escort]
Option 1: Serenya Vaelith — The Moonblade Saint. Brings honor, but stirs Calista's jealousy.
Option 2: Vara Nyx — The Underworld's Shadow. Brings danger, but makes you unpredictable.
Lynx leaned back in the high-backed chair of his private chamber, eyeing the two women who now stood before him.
Serenya was dressed in formal battle regalia — polished moonsteel plates over a flowing white underrobe, her sword hanging at her hip. She was a vision of discipline, her silver hair bound high, her expression unreadable.
Vara, in contrast, wore a gown of black silk that clung to her figure, slit high on one side to reveal the dangerous curve of her thigh when she moved. Her hair fell loose over one shoulder, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Well, Duke?" Vara said, her voice dripping challenge. "Who will be gracing your arm tonight?"
Serenya crossed her arms. "This is not a social choice. It is a matter of survival."
Lynx tapped a finger on the table, pretending to consider. In truth, his mind was already running through the original plot threads — who he could sway, who he could neutralize, and which alliances might save his neck.
Finally, he stood. "Vara."
Serenya's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. She gave a short bow and turned sharply on her heel, leaving without another word.
Vara's smile widened like a cat that had just been fed cream. "You won't regret this," she murmured, stepping close enough that her perfume curled into the air between them.
Later, at the palace gates…
The Crimson Court glittered before them, its towers lit by hundreds of crimson lanterns swaying in the night breeze. The grand hall's massive doors were carved with scenes of royal conquests — each one depicting Calista's bloodline standing over kneeling foes.
Vara leaned in as they walked, her lips brushing close to his ear. "Remember," she whispered, "in there, every look is a lie. Including mine."
The doors opened, and a wave of warmth, music, and perfume swept over them. The court was a sea of silk and jewels, masks and painted smiles.
At the far end of the hall, upon a throne of carved ivory, sat Princess Calista herself.
She rose as he entered, every motion deliberate, her gaze fixed solely on him.
"Duke Lynx Brian," she said, her voice carrying like velvet over steel. "You honor my court with your presence."
[Hidden Objective Triggered: Survive the Banquet Without Losing Influence]
From the shadowed balconies above, unseen eyes watched his every move. Somewhere in that crowd, enemies and opportunities waited — and if he played this night well, it might buy him more than just survival.
The crowd parted as Lynx approached the throne, the sound of laughter and music fading until only the soft, rhythmic tap of his boots on the marble floor remained.
Princess Calista descended the steps to meet him, her gown of crimson silk flowing like liquid fire. The gold embroidery along the hem shimmered with each measured step, the gems at her throat catching the light like a trail of stars.
She stopped before him — close enough that he could see the faint glimmer of gold dust along her collarbone.
"Your Grace," she said, taking his hand before he could even offer it. Her skin was warm, her grip light, but there was a command in the gesture that made it impossible to pull away without making a scene.
Her eyes — deep, molten amber — searched his with deliberate slowness. "You look… different."
"Time changes a man," Lynx replied smoothly.
Her smile deepened, but her gaze sharpened. "Time changes nothing, Duke. Choices do."
Vara stood a step behind him, the picture of casual indifference. But Lynx knew she was watching everything — the slight tilt of Calista's head, the way her other hand brushed the dagger-shaped pendant resting above her heart.
Calista leaned in, her lips barely moving. "I expected you to bring your swordmaster. I see you chose… a different weapon."
Lynx's mouth curved. "Sometimes a shadow cuts deeper than a blade."
Her laugh was low, rich, and far too pleased. "We shall see."
A servant appeared, carrying a crystal decanter and three goblets on a silver tray. Calista gestured, and the servant poured deep red wine into each cup. She took one and offered it to Lynx herself.
[System Alert: Possible Poison Detected — Chance of Fatality: 8%]
Accepting will grant +5 Court Respect. Refusing will grant +10 Court Suspicion.
Lynx accepted the cup without breaking eye contact. If she wanted to test him, he would drink and make her wonder whether she'd succeeded.
He raised the goblet, but before he could take a sip, Calista touched the rim of her own cup to his — the faint chime of crystal ringing out like a signal.
"To survival," she murmured.
"To victory," he countered, and drank.
The wine was rich, spiced, and just faintly bitter.
If it was poisoned, he'd know soon enough.
As he lowered the cup, Calista's hand lingered on his wrist for a fraction longer than necessary, her thumb brushing along his pulse. Then she turned away, gliding back toward her throne without another word — leaving the weight of the moment hanging like a guillotine blade over his head.
Vara leaned close, her voice barely audible above the renewed swell of music. "You just let her touch your pulse. Now she knows when you're lying."
"Then I'll have to make sure she never catches me doing it," Lynx said, eyes still following the Princess as she sat and surveyed the court like a goddess among mortals.
From somewhere in the crowd, a masked figure watched the exchange with interest — and a faint curl of amusement. Whoever they were, Lynx had the uneasy sense they weren't part of the original plot at all.
Which meant the game was changing again.
The music shifted — a slower, richer melody — and the nobles began pairing off on the gleaming marble dance floor.
Lynx didn't move. He'd learned long ago that at a royal banquet, the most dangerous place wasn't the dance floor… it was the edge of it, where those who didn't dance were either predators or prey.
Vara leaned against a pillar beside him, her eyes scanning the crowd like a cat watching a roomful of mice. "You should dance," she murmured.
"I should watch," Lynx corrected.
Her lips curved. "You can do both."
It was then he saw the masked stranger.
They moved through the crowd with unsettling grace, their mask a smooth porcelain white marked only by a thin gold slash over the left eye. The deep blue of their attire shimmered under the lantern light, the fabric clinging in a way that suggested speed over ornament.
They stopped directly before him and bowed with court-perfect precision.
"Your Grace," the stranger said, voice low, neither clearly male nor female. "Would you honor me?"
Vara arched a brow. "And if he doesn't?"
The stranger didn't so much as glance at her. "Then I'll ask again in a way he cannot refuse."
Intrigue prickled at the back of Lynx's neck. In the original novel, no such figure existed — which meant they were either a ripple caused by his earlier choices… or something far more dangerous.
[Branch Event Triggered: Dance of Veiled Intent]
Accept to gain +5 Court Mystery and unlock hidden dialogue.
Refuse to maintain control of observation position.
Lynx extended his hand. "Lead the way."
The stranger guided him onto the dance floor, their steps precise, perfectly timed to the music. But each turn of the dance drew them closer, until Lynx could feel the faint brush of their breath against his cheek.
"You've disrupted the court already," they said softly, spinning with him toward the far side of the floor. "Some find it entertaining. Others find it… inconvenient."
"And which are you?" Lynx asked.
The stranger's eyes glinted through the mask. "That depends on how well you survive tonight."
From the throne, Calista watched the dance with an expression that was impossible to read — though the way her fingers tapped against the armrest suggested annoyance.
Vara, meanwhile, was circling the edges of the room like a shadow looking for somewhere to fall.
The dance ended with a final flourish. The stranger leaned close enough that their words were for him alone.
"The Princess isn't your only danger, Duke Brian. Watch your back."
And then they were gone, melting into the crowd before he could even decide whether to follow.
[System Alert: New Threat Unlocked — Identity: Unknown]
Progress toward Resolution: 0%
Before Lynx could process it, a court herald's voice rang out:
"By the Princess's decree — the opening toast!"
Calista rose again, her gaze sweeping the hall. This time, when she looked at him, there was no trace of warmth in her smile.
To be continued…
Next Chapter Preview:
Calista's toast forces Lynx into a public display that could either cement his standing or ruin him in front of the entire court. Vara decides to "help" in the most dangerous way possible.
CTA:
Who is the masked stranger? And should Lynx trust them? Vote, comment, and let's spin the web even tighter.