Soft morning light filtered through the lace curtains, painting the bedroom in warm, golden hues.
Outside the room, the palace still carried the chill of last night's tension. But in here, everything was quiet. Still.
Karthius lay curled under the thick blankets, his small body rising and falling gently with each breath. The silence was only broken by the creak of the door as Sher stepped in.
The boy stirred.
He let out a sleepy yawn, rubbing one cheek lazily against the pillow. His voice was drowsy and soft.
> "Mmm... Momma?"
His big eyes blinked up at her, still heavy with sleep. But then they widened just a little.
> "Did you talk to the scary voice in the hallway earlier? It woke me up..."
Slowly, he sat up, tugging the blanket around his shoulders like a cape.
> "Was it someone bad? Should I go growl at them for you?"
Sher smiled and crossed the room, settling on the edge of the bed. She ran her fingers gently through his tousled hair, brushing a soft lock away from his forehead.
> "No, you don't need to, my little cat," she said, her voice like a lullaby. "Someone challenged a game to Mumma and Papa. And if you played... you'd win. Everyone knows that. But then they'd just say Mumma and Papa are weak, hiding behind their brave little boy."
Her eyes softened.
> "So... this time, Karth will let us prove that we're strong. Right?"
Karthius' expression turned serious. His brows scrunched together as if he were being asked to protect the entire kingdom. Then, with a proud little nod, he accepted the mission.
> "Okay... then I won't fight them. I'll protect this room instead!"
He threw the blanket off with a dramatic flair and puffed out his chest.
> "No bad people allowed in our room. If they come, I'll bite their ankles. That's smart, right?"
He paused, eyes widening again as he looked up at her, quieter this time.
> "But... if someone says something mean about you… I might still growl a little."
He shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his cheek on her side like he belonged there.
> "You're already strong, Momma," he murmured. "You don't have to prove it to them. Just me."
Sher's smile trembled. Her hand found his back, holding him closer.
> "You always say things that are too big for your little body to carry," she whispered, pressing a kiss into his hair. "But thank you. That means more than you know."
Then she laughed softly, brushing the tip of his nose.
> "You talk like you're a grown man…"
Karthius gasped and pulled back dramatically, planting his hands on his hips.
> "I am a grown man! I even ate all my carrots last night!"
He squinted at her suspiciously.
> "…Wait. Is this one of those sneaky things where you say something nice and then attack me with kisses?"
Sher only grinned.
> "Nooo!" he shrieked with a laugh, grabbing a pillow and holding it in front of him like a shield. "Stay back, kiss monster!"
His laughter bounced off the walls—sweet and free, like music this house hadn't heard in years.
---
Outside the door, Cassian leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He didn't step in. He didn't need to. The laughter from inside was enough.
For a house built on power and survival, warmth had always been a rare thing.
And yet, hearing them now, he couldn't help but smile—just a flicker at the corner of his lips.
> "...Maybe fire can build a home after all."
---
Late morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Duke's study, casting long beams across the cluttered desk.
Maps were spread wide, letters half-opened, and a single black-sealed parchment lay fallen among them like a curse someone dared not touch again.
Cassian stood over the mess with both arms braced on the desk, his jaw tight, his posture wound with silent fury. There was calculation in every breath, like a man who'd been waiting for this war far longer than he'd ever admit.
He didn't look up when the door opened.
But he didn't need to.
> "They'll make their next move soon," he said, his voice low, eyes still on the table. "The petal was the warning. That woman... just the performance."
Only then did he raise his gaze. The sharp edge in his expression softened just slightly—enough to leave room for her voice.
Sher didn't waste it.
> "Can you tell me about the strongest members among them?"
He straightened at the weight of her words. No questions. No hesitation. Just the kind of demand he'd kept locked away for moments like this.
Cassian moved to the drawer behind him—a small, locked compartment that even his closest advisors never touched. He retrieved a slim leather-bound file and placed it gently on the desk, opening it with the quiet reverence of something dangerous.
> "There are five core members in the Bloodthorn Circle," he said, voice lower now, like the walls might listen. "They don't sit on thrones, but they control the hands that pull strings in courts, guilds, noble houses... each one more dangerous than the last."
Faded sketches and folded reports filled the file. Intelligence inked in fear and papered over silence.
Sher stepped closer.
Cassian turned the pages one by one.
---
🩸 The Bloodthorn Circle – Core Members
1. Lady Myria Vale – The White Widow
"Information is her blade."
Once a noblewoman from a proud house, now a master manipulator who framed her family's murderers—then watched them hang. She commands the Circle's spy networks. Whispers follow her like perfume.
Charming. Cruel. And unnervingly curious about Sher's recent emotions.
Signature: white lace gloves and slow, taunting smiles.
Suspected action: Likely the one who delivered the black-sealed letter.
---
2. Lord Rhiven Crowne – The Iron Hound
"If you hear his voice, you're already dying."
A fallen general with a history soaked in blood. Known for torture, precision, and absolute silence. He runs the Circle's assassins and enforcers like a cold machine.
Said to wield a blade carved from his brother's spine.
He rarely speaks. But when he does—people die.
---
3. Ser Dorith Halen – The Crimson Bell
"He plays music at every funeral he causes."
Court musician turned illusionist. Twists sound and song to warp perception. He runs the theater guilds, assassin rings, and black-market traders with a smile.
Sings to children by day. Poisons nobles by night.
Loves riddles. Hates predictability. Finds joy in emotional ruin.
---
4. The Twins – Noah and Neera Irelith
"Two faces. One voice."
One is blind. The other is mute. But together, they control the flow of gold across the empire.
They own debts, bribe nobles, and manipulate financial empires like puppets on coin strings.
One always watches. The other always listens.
Their influence poisons in silence.
---
5. Unknown Leader – The Thornroot
"No one has seen their face. Everyone follows their word."
The mastermind. The shadow behind the circle. No known name, face, or history.
Gives orders through the other four. Never directly.
Some claim they're a royal exile. Others believe they sit in the empire's highest court—watching everything from within.
---
Cassian closed the file slowly, fingers lingering over the leather cover.
> "If they're moving," he said quietly, "it means either the Thornroot gave the order… or one of the five is acting alone."
His eyes met hers again.
> "Either way, we need to prepare. And you need to decide which one we strike first—before they strike Karth."
Soft morning light filtered through the lace curtains, painting the bedroom in warm, golden hues.
Outside the room, the palace still carried the chill of last night's tension. But in here, everything was quiet. Still.
Karthius lay curled under the thick blankets, his small body rising and falling gently with each breath. The silence was only broken by the creak of the door as Sher stepped in.
The boy stirred.
He let out a sleepy yawn, rubbing one cheek lazily against the pillow. His voice was drowsy and soft.
> "Mmm... Momma?"
His big eyes blinked up at her, still heavy with sleep. But then they widened just a little.
> "Did you talk to the scary voice in the hallway earlier? It woke me up..."
Slowly, he sat up, tugging the blanket around his shoulders like a cape.
> "Was it someone bad? Should I go growl at them for you?"
Sher smiled and crossed the room, settling on the edge of the bed. She ran her fingers gently through his tousled hair, brushing a soft lock away from his forehead.
> "No, you don't need to, my little cat," she said, her voice like a lullaby. "Someone challenged a game to Mumma and Papa. And if you played... you'd win. Everyone knows that. But then they'd just say Mumma and Papa are weak, hiding behind their brave little boy."
Her eyes softened.
> "So... this time, Karth will let us prove that we're strong. Right?"
Karthius' expression turned serious. His brows scrunched together as if he were being asked to protect the entire kingdom. Then, with a proud little nod, he accepted the mission.
> "Okay... then I won't fight them. I'll protect this room instead!"
He threw the blanket off with a dramatic flair and puffed out his chest.
> "No bad people allowed in our room. If they come, I'll bite their ankles. That's smart, right?"
He paused, eyes widening again as he looked up at her, quieter this time.
> "But... if someone says something mean about you… I might still growl a little."
He shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his cheek on her side like he belonged there.
> "You're already strong, Momma," he murmured. "You don't have to prove it to them. Just me."
Sher's smile trembled. Her hand found his back, holding him closer.
> "You always say things that are too big for your little body to carry," she whispered, pressing a kiss into his hair. "But thank you. That means more than you know."
Then she laughed softly, brushing the tip of his nose.
> "You talk like you're a grown man…"
Karthius gasped and pulled back dramatically, planting his hands on his hips.
> "I am a grown man! I even ate all my carrots last night!"
He squinted at her suspiciously.
> "…Wait. Is this one of those sneaky things where you say something nice and then attack me with kisses?"
Sher only grinned.
> "Nooo!" he shrieked with a laugh, grabbing a pillow and holding it in front of him like a shield. "Stay back, kiss monster!"
His laughter bounced off the walls—sweet and free, like music this house hadn't heard in years.
---
Outside the door, Cassian leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He didn't step in. He didn't need to. The laughter from inside was enough.
For a house built on power and survival, warmth had always been a rare thing.
And yet, hearing them now, he couldn't help but smile—just a flicker at the corner of his lips.
> "...Maybe fire can build a home after all."
---
Late morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Duke's study, casting long beams across the cluttered desk.
Maps were spread wide, letters half-opened, and a single black-sealed parchment lay fallen among them like a curse someone dared not touch again.
Cassian stood over the mess with both arms braced on the desk, his jaw tight, his posture wound with silent fury. There was calculation in every breath, like a man who'd been waiting for this war far longer than he'd ever admit.
He didn't look up when the door opened.
But he didn't need to.
> "They'll make their next move soon," he said, his voice low, eyes still on the table. "The petal was the warning. That woman... just the performance."
Only then did he raise his gaze. The sharp edge in his expression softened just slightly—enough to leave room for her voice.
Sher didn't waste it.
> "Can you tell me about the strongest members among them?"
He straightened at the weight of her words. No questions. No hesitation. Just the kind of demand he'd kept locked away for moments like this.
> "There are five core members in the Bloodthorn Circle," he said, voice lower now, like the walls might listen. "They don't sit on thrones, but they control the hands that pull strings in courts, guilds, noble houses... each one more dangerous than the last."
Sher stepped closer.
Cassian leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly against the polished wood.
> "The Rosehall Estate. Lady Myria Vale runs it. On the surface, she's nobility—graceful, untouchable. But every coin funding their movement passes through her hands. She twists marriages, controls merchant contracts… and somehow makes every crime look perfectly legal."
Shar's eyes narrowed.
> "Lady Myria… the one who came with the warning letter?"
Cassian nodded.
> "Yes. They must have thought a warning would be enough to control the situation—but they underestimated us."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
> "The Veiled Choir," he continued, voice darkening. "They travel as healers, priests, musicians. But their songs… they aren't harmless. They bend minds. Erase memories. Twist them. They don't fight with swords, Shar… they break people from the inside."
Shar's brow furrowed.
> "But who controls them?"
> "Ser Dorith Halen," Cassian said, his tone cold. "The Crimson Bell. Plays music at every funeral he orchestrates. Once a court musician, now an illusionist. He twists sound, song… perception itself. Loves riddles, hates predictability. Finds joy in emotional ruin."
Shar leaned forward, voice tight.
> "How do they even know which family to target?"
Cassian's jaw clenched.
> "The third pillar gives them that information."
He leaned back again, fingers drumming slower, more deliberate.
> "The Crimson Cellar. Run by twins, Noah and Neera—one blind, one mute. They control secrets. Gambling dens, brothels, taverns… every rumor, every scandal begins with them. And if someone speaks out of line? The Cellar makes sure it's the last time."
Shar shook her head, her voice barely a whisper.
> "I still can't believe… how they manage to control everything so perfectly."
Cassian's face darkened with regret.
> "It's not perfect, Shar. They practice it."
> "What do you mean… practice?" Her tone grew sharper, eyes flashing.
> "The fourth pillar," he said quietly, "the Orphan's Archive. Their roots. An old monastery turned into a lab. They take the forgotten, the stolen… orphans, criminals, anyone left behind—and experiment. That's where they perfect their cursed music, their manipulation, their control. Every lie, every betrayal… every secret. Trained in the shadows."
Shar fell silent. The words sank into her chest, heavy as stone. After a long pause, she murmured, pain lacing her voice,
> "They… they are inhuman."
Cassian stayed silent.
Shar's brow furrowed.
> "Who is controlling this pillar? There must be a leader, right?"
Cassian's gaze darkened.
> "Unknown Leader — The Thornroot. No one has seen their face. Everyone follows their word."
He leaned back, voice low and measured.
> "The mastermind. The shadow behind the circle. No known name, face, or history. They give orders through the other four, never directly. Some claim they're a royal exile. Others believe they sit in the empire's highest court—watching everything from within."
Cassian's voice dropped further, quiet but heavy.
> "If they're moving," he said, "it means either the Thornroot gave the order… or one of the five is acting alone."
His eyes met hers again.
> "Either way, we need to prepare. And you need to decide which one we strike first—before they strike Karth."
Sher didn't say anything. But they both knew.
The silence between them was heavy, charged with the unspoken truth. Something big was coming, and they could feel it coiling just beyond the walls of the palace, ready to strike.