The dining hall was alive with the soft, distant clinking of silverware and the low hum of conversation. The long table, a slab of polished mahogany, was laden with golden platters of roasted meats, fresh bread, and crystal goblets filled with deep red wine.
Fin broke the silence first, his tone sharp yet weary. "So," he began, slicing a piece of meat with unnecessary force, "is there any update from the messenger?"
Ashen, seated to my left, set his goblet down with deliberate, almost unnatural calm. His cold, commanding presence filled the room, though his voice was steady. "None," he replied, his eyes narrowed into slits. "They've collected no solid evidence, nor found anything unusual about the people I ordered them to investigate."
Shoot. My stomach knotted as I pretended to focus on my plate, silently thankful I was present for this conversation. This wasn't idle talk; this was a war room. I stayed quiet, listening intently as my mind raced.
A knight suddenly approached, bowing deeply before handing a sealed envelope to Ashen. Ashen took it, broke the seal with a faint rip, and sifted through the papers inside, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he handed the documents to Fin, who sat on my right.
The tension in the air thickened as Fin scanned the contents, his brows furrowing deep enough to cast shadows. "These are… scraps of evidence," he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. "There's nothing here that can stand in court. It's incomplete. Weak."
From across the table, Zein leaned forward, his sharp gaze cutting between his brothers like a dagger. "Four years," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Four years, and still nothing? We've lost two men. Their bodies were never recovered. And this—" he tapped the papers with a clenched fist "—is all we have to show for it?"
A chill ran down my spine. Four years? Missing bodies? My hands tightened in my lap as my mind tried to piece it together. Whoever was behind this was clever… and bold enough to erase every trace of their crime.
Ashen's jaw tightened, his cold façade cracking just slightly. "The investigation team moves too slowly," he said, his tone like steel. "If they cannot deliver results, we will move on our own."
Fin exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "You can't just—"
"I will," Ashen interrupted, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "This is no longer a simple matter of loyalty or protocol. It's personal. I will not lose anyone else to the shadows."
I sat frozen between them, my pulse pounding. The Ashen I knew—the man who could make me blush with a single teasing word—was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating prince ready to go to war.
And for the first time, I understood: This wasn't just about missing knights. It was about power, vengeance, and the dangerous game being played in the heart of Vesperianth.
The Unfinished Puzzle
The conversation deepened, and I found myself an accidental guest at a table where secrets were the main course. The missing men were trusted companions of the King—their disappearance a shadow that had stretched over the entire estate, haunting every decision. But the terrifying fact remained: even now, their bodies had never been found.
The documents Ashen handed to Fin were a puzzle with its most vital pieces deliberately missing: riddled with gaps, half-truths, and fragmented reports that led nowhere. It wasn't an investigation; it was a ghost hunt.
"No one knows if they're dead…" Zein's voice was low, heavy with frustration, "…or if they're still out there somewhere."
Still alive? Or… dead and meticulously erased?
My gaze moved between my brothers. Important enough to ignite such fury in the Crown Prince, yet mysterious enough that their names were spoken only in whispers.
My gaze dropped to the untouched food, my appetite gone. A strange feeling coiled in my chest—a mix of dread and chilling curiosity. The force that had taken them hadn't disappeared. It was still out there. Watching. Waiting.
And if I stayed too close to the truth, it might come for us next.
"I'm done eating," I announced, cutting through their heavy conversation like a delicate knife.
Ashen's sharp gaze immediately shifted to me. "I'm also finished." He turned to one of his knights. "Raiden, once you're done, continue the signing in my office and wait for me there."
As I stood, Ashen rose with me. Sylvia quickly followed, her head bowed.
"Where are we going?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
"I assume you haven't explored this mansion yet," Ashen replied, his tone smooth, almost teasing. "I'd be grateful if you'd allow me to give you a tour."
"Hm…" I stared at him suspiciously, letting the silence linger just to make him squirm.
"What?" he asked, feigning innocence, though I caught the subtle twitch of a smirk at the corner of his lips.
"Nothing," I said finally, turning away with a dramatic sigh. "Let's go."
The Weight of a Ribbon
As we walked side by side through the grand halls, memories stirred in my mind. Since childhood, Ashen had been a constant presence—thanks to his close friendship with Zein. He would sneak away from his attendants and my strict parents just to find me hiding in my room.
Childhood sweetheart? Ha! As if.
No, Ashen didn't come to sweep me off my feet. He came to torment me. He loved to see me cry, always finding new ways to tease me until I burst into frustrated tears.
And now, here he was, walking beside me like a perfect gentleman, his hands clasped behind his back, his voice soft as he spoke about the palace as if it were a fairy tale. The mischievous boy was gone, replaced by a man whose every glance made my heart race.
Was this the same Ashen I grew up with—or was it just another game he was playing?
"This is our garden," Ashen said, his voice softening as if the flowers themselves were listening. "It's my favorite place. I love nature... and the quiet."
We walked slowly along the stone path, the air rich with the sweet, earthy scent of blossoms. My gaze wandered, drinking in every detail—the glistening dew on the petals, the careful arrangement of rare blooms.
Then, something caught my eye.
It was breathtakingly unique, with petals the color of dusk and gold streaks like veins of fire. I crouched slightly, my fingers hovering above it.
"This might be my new favorite," I murmured. "I've never seen anything like it."
Ashen's lips curved into the faintest smile. "It's rare," he admitted, stepping closer. "It only grows here, in this garden. Nowhere else in the empire."
I glanced up at him, catching the pride—and something warmer—in his eyes. For a fleeting second, I wondered if he brought me here just to see this.
The moment lingered, heavy and unspoken, until he broke it with a quiet, "Let's go?"
I straightened, smoothing my skirts. "Right."
As I followed him out, I glanced back at the rare flower. Ashen, walking just ahead, glanced over his shoulder with a knowing look. "Someday," he said, almost under his breath, "I'll tell you the story behind that flower."
Someday? Why did it sound like a promise?
We walked straight into his room, and I immediately froze.
"Your room is so big…" I remarked, raising a brow. "Or maybe it just feels big because there's barely anything in here?" I added teasingly, twirling in the open space.
Ashen sat casually on the edge of his bed, his posture perfectly composed. "I don't like having too many things cluttering my space," he hummed nonchalantly.
"Figures," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I began to wander, peeking at the few personal items scattered around. It was so... Ashen—minimalist, pristine, and oddly cold.
Then my fingers brushed against something soft tucked away in the corner of a shelf. I paused, tilting my head.
"Hmmm…" I hummed suspiciously.
Ashen's gaze immediately sharpened. "What is it?"
I turned, holding up a small, worn ribbon between my fingers. It was simple, delicate, and utterly sentimental for a man like him.
"This…" I said, narrowing my eyes. "Why do you even have this?"
For a moment, silence. Then, a faint, almost bashful smile tugged at his lips.
"I suppose you don't remember," he said, his tone softer than I'd ever heard it.
My brow furrowed. "Remember what?"
He stood, walking toward me with unhurried steps. When he was close enough that I could smell the faint trace of cedar and smoke on him, he spoke.
"It's from you," he confessed, his eyes locking onto mine. "That day, when you pushed me out of sheer frustration before I went home… you gave me that ribbon to make me stop crying. A… clumsy apology, I suppose."
Blush. Blush. BLOODY BLUSH.
My entire face went hot, and I nearly dropped the ribbon. What the hell?! I screamed internally. I didn't even remember this stupid thing! And if I had, I would've assumed he threw it away the second I left!
Outwardly, I just stared, stunned and embarrassed, while Ashen smirked ever so slightly.
"Seems like you forgot," he said smoothly, his voice a low tease.
I quickly shoved the ribbon back at him. "W-well, maybe I wanted to forget!"
Ashen's hands suddenly gripped my waist, firm and unyielding. The protest died on my lips as he lifted me, swift and effortless, and set me atop his study table. My heart practically jumped into my throat.
"W…why?" I stammered, my breath shaky. My palms pressed against the polished wood as if I could steady myself, my legs dangling uselessly over the edge.
He leaned in, a mountain of calm against my chaos, his posture a deliberate show of power. His sharp, cold demeanor softened just enough to make my pulse quicken.
"Hmm…" he hummed, his eyes dark and intense, pinning me in place.
"I just want to stare at your face," he murmured, his voice low, intimate, and far too calm for the storm he was stirring inside me. "You've been beautiful since the day I first saw you… even when you were crying in frustration."
Damn. Damn. Damn!
I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, spreading across my cheeks until I was certain I looked like a ripe tomato. My face is turning red and I can't stop it! This is so unfair!
"Your Majesty, please put me down!" I ordered, my voice flustered but trying desperately to sound firm.
Ashen chuckled under his breath, the sound low and maddeningly smug. He set me down carefully, his hands lingering on my waist for a second too long. The moment my feet hit the ground, I bolted toward the door.
"Dravina," he called behind me, his tone amused and infuriatingly calm, "why are you running away from me?"
I didn't look back. "Stop following me! I'm going to the bathroom! Don't you dare follow me!" I shouted over my shoulder, picking up my pace.
His laughter echoed through the hall, deep and warm. "You don't even know where the bathroom is!" he teased, the sound of his boots growing louder as he chased after me.
I nearly tripped when I turned down a corridor, catching sight of a group of handmaidens.
"Excuse me!" I panted, rushing toward them. "Please, tell me where the bathroom is!"
They blinked, then immediately bowed. "Your Highness!"
"Please, faster! I'm begging you!" I urged desperately, glancing over my shoulder to see Ashen closing in.
"Don't tell her!" Ashen's voice boomed down the hall, sharp and commanding. The handmaidens gasped, looking utterly torn.
"My apologies, Your Highness!" one of them finally squeaked, trembling. "Turn right at the end of this hall!"
"Thank you!" I shouted, taking off like a wild deer.
Ashen cursed softly, then broke into a full sprint after me. "Dravina, stop running before you trip!" he commanded.
"No way!" I yelled back, half-laughing, half-panicked. "If you catch me, you'll never let me live it down!"
The entire mansion seemed to freeze as we raced through it. Knights and handmaidens flattened themselves against the walls, bowing hurriedly as we dashed past, their faces a mix of shock and amusement.
"He's actually smiling… kyaaa!" I heard one of them whisper.
Ashen didn't even acknowledge them. "Dravina!"
I slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it behind me. My chest heaved as I staggered toward the mirror, staring at my flushed reflection.
"I look horrible," I muttered, glaring at my messy hair and wild eyes. "This is all Ashen's fault!"
I splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. When I was sure the coast was clear, I carefully unlocked the door and stepped out.
I nearly screamed.
Prince Ashen sat casually against the wall just beside the door, one knee propped up, his arms draped loosely over it like he owned the entire hallway. A knowing smirk curved his lips, his sharp eyes glittering with mischief.
"As I expected," I said flatly, though my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Why were you running like I was about to kill you?"
I shot him a poker-faced glare and walked right past him without a single glance. "Maybe because you are terrifying," I muttered under my breath.
Ashen chuckled, rising smoothly to his feet to follow me. "Anyway," he said lightly, his tone dropping back to that calm, regal cadence. "I'm going back to work."
"Right," I replied, trying to sound unaffected. "I'm heading home. But before that, I need to say goodbye to Zein and Fin."
"Zein's in my office," Ashen said, falling into step beside me. "We'll go together."
When we reached the office, I pushed the door open and burst in.
"Zeeiiinnn!" I greeted him loudly, flashing a smile. "I'm heading home now since it's already four. If I don't, Mom might get worried."
Before Zein could respond, Ashen's voice cut smoothly through the room.
"I'll escort her out."
Zein immediately stood and bowed deeply, his voice filled with sincere gratitude. "You honor me—thank you, Your Highness!"
I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Zein, stop acting like he just saved your life," I teased, though secretly, my stomach was flipping.
Ashen didn't respond, but I caught the faintest hint of a smirk as he extended his hand toward me. "Shall we?" he asked smoothly, his tone holding a quiet authority that sent a shiver down my spine.