Mal's POV
The afternoon sun hung lazily above the empire, its golden rays slipping through the stained glass windows of the grand dining hall. The air was already thick with the mingling scents of roasted meats, sweet pastries, and the spiced wine being poured into jeweled goblets. Long oak tables stretched across the hall, draped in silks of crimson and gold, each one piled high with delicacies only royals and highborns could afford.
The murmur of noble voices echoed across the chamber, punctuated by the occasional laugh. Some had already taken their seats—lords in shimmering cloaks, ladies in gowns heavy with jewels, their faces powdered to perfection. And among them sat her family: the Newcastle household, with their chilling air of arrogance. Her father sat with his back straight, eyes sharp as daggers, while her mother whispered instructions in Ava's ear. Ava, Mal's younger sister, glittered like a jewel in her sea-green dress, her beauty so striking that rumors often claimed she eclipsed Mal herself.
Mal had heard those rumors many times, each one like a splinter in her pride. Ava, the beautiful one. Ava, the jewel of the family. Ava, the girl every noble wanted. But today was Mal's day.
And yet… here she was, not in the hall but in her chamber, sitting with Olivia.
The two of them had been talking for what felt like hours, laughter slipping through the cracks of their broken friendship. Mal hadn't realized how much she missed this—those silly childhood jokes, the way Olivia's laughter could light a room, the warmth that came from simply being seen as a friend, not as the daughter of the Newcastle family. For a fleeting moment, Mal felt like a girl again, not a pawn in her parents' endless climb to power.
"I wish things were like this again," Mal murmured, her voice low, almost a confession.
Olivia gave her a small, soft smile. "Me too."
The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy at the same time. Mal studied Olivia's face—the kindness in her eyes, the quiet strength she carried despite everything life had taken from her. But behind that softness was something else. A question. A suspicion. Mal could almost feel it crawling from Olivia's heart to her lips.
She wants to ask me… she wants to know if it was me who framed her.
Before Olivia could speak, the door slammed open.
Levi.
He strode in like a storm, his dark hair falling in loose waves around his shoulders, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto Olivia.
"What are you still doing here?" he barked, his voice echoing off the chamber walls. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning my room? Or do you think your pitiful little life is more important than the empire's celebrations?"
Olivia froze, her head bowing instantly. Mal's heart thudded in her chest. Levi's rage was sharp and dangerous, his hand twitching like he wanted to strike.
"You dare stand here while my chamber sits dirty?" Levi's voice dripped venom. "Do you want me to remind you of your place?"
He raised his hand—
"Stop," Mal said sharply.
Levi froze, his eyes flicking to her. For a moment, he looked at her like she had grown horns. Mal met his gaze with a cool, unyielding stare.
"Leave her be," she said, her voice cold as steel. "Her mother rots in a pit because of treachery she didn't commit. Isn't that punishment enough? She's… useless, anyway."
The last words left Mal's lips like poison, and she saw the way Olivia flinched, her shoulders curling inward. A small part of Mal wanted to bite her tongue, to take the words back, but she didn't. Not with Levi watching.
Levi lowered his hand, smirking. "You're lucky she stopped me," he spat at Olivia. "Otherwise, that ugly face of yours would be polishing my boots by now."
Olivia's lips trembled, but she bowed her head deeper. "Yes, my lord."
"Get out of here!" Levi roared.
Olivia rushed from the chamber, the sound of her hurried footsteps fading down the hall. Silence fell, thick and suffocating. Levi turned back to Mal, his fury replaced with something else—hunger.
"You are such a good prince," Mal whispered, touching his jaw with her fingers.
He caught her hand, kissed her palm with desperation, and smirked. "I know. And I'll be a better king. With you by my side as queen."
Mal tilted her head, allowing his lips to trail along her neck. She shivered—not from pleasure, but from the knowledge of what power meant to Levi. To him, she was a prize, a stepping stone, and yet… wasn't that what she wanted too?
"Levi," she murmured, pushing slightly at his chest. "I need to get ready. It's my birthday."
"One good moment won't waste your time," he growled softly, his hands roaming her body.
Mal let out a laugh, low and dangerous. "Then what are you waiting for, tiger?"
His grin was feral. He ripped the fabric of her gown with greedy hands, his mouth crashing against hers, and for a moment the room filled with the heat of their desire.
---
Meanwhile, in the hall, nobles gathered. The Newcastle family played their part perfectly. Ava's mother, with her painted lips and serpent's smile, whispered to her daughter:
"Go to the Crestle boys. Smile. Charm them. Make them see you."
Ava, radiant in her gown, obeyed without question. She drifted toward the Crestle family, their name carrying more weight than even the Newcastles could hope to match. Lady Crestle, a formidable woman in silks of emerald, lifted her brow as Ava approached.
"Oh, hello dear," she purred. "You must be Ava, from the Newcastle family."
"Yes, my lady," Ava replied gracefully.
Lady Crestle's eyes twinkled. "You are… far more beautiful than your sister, aren't you?"
Ava smiled sweetly, hiding the way her heart leapt. "I wouldn't dare say so, my lady."
"Such modesty," Lady Crestle cooed. She gestured to the two boys at her side. "Meet my sons—Marc and Richard."
Richard, no older than ten, gave Ava a boyish grin. "Good evening!" he piped up cheerfully.
But Marc… Marc was older, closer to Ava's age. He stared at her like he'd been struck by lightning, his mouth slightly open. Only when his mother nudged him did he stumble to his feet.
"Good… evening, my lady," he said, taking her hand and brushing his lips over her skin. His eyes lingered on her face, his expression intense, burning.
Ava's lips curved into a perfect smile.
"I want to kiss her too!" Richard blurted suddenly. Everyone laughed, and the boy eagerly kissed her hand as well.
From across the hall, Ava's mother watched with pride. "Yes," she whispered under her breath, her lips curling. "All is going as planned."
But then her eyes darkened. Olivia. She spotted the girl slipping quietly through the crowd, her maid's gown plain against the sea of silks and jewels. The sight made her blood boil.
"What is she doing here?" she hissed. "Didn't I tell Mal to get rid of her?"
Her husband leaned close. "She's more troublesome than we thought."
"Must we do everything ourselves?" she spat.
"Yes," he murmured.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Ava walking outside with Marc Crestle, their heads bent together, laughing softly. Her fury eased, replaced with satisfaction. "So fast," she whispered. "Ava is truly unique."
---
Back in her chamber, Mal adjusted the gown the maids had laced tightly around her frame. Layers of fabric pooled behind her like a river of gold and silver. Ten maids fussed over her hair, her jewelry, her makeup. When they were finished, she barely recognized herself.
When she stepped into the hall, the world stopped.
Every noble turned to stare. Some with awe. Some with envy. Some with jealousy so sharp it was barely masked.
Mal smiled, basking in it all. Yes. This is my place. My crown. My world.
From the balcony above, Olivia clapped softly, whispering to herself, "Wow… it really is different this time."
Mal took her seat near the Alpha's sons, her gaze scanning the room. Her parents beamed proudly. Ava was nowhere to be seen—still outside with Marc, no doubt. Levi and Leo sat at their places, smirking as though they owned the world.
But one chair remained empty.
Lex's.
Where are you, Lex? Mal thought, her smile wavering for only a heartbeat. Levi's laughter broke the silence at her side.
"Maybe he's with his little maid," Levi said mockingly, tipping his goblet toward Olivia's direction.
Mal forced a smile, but deep inside, her heart clenched. She knew the truth.
Lex was not with some nameless maid. If he was anywhere… it was with Olivia.
And that made her blood run cold.
"Oh no," Mal whispered under her breath, her smile cracking for the first time that evening.