The Thomas family was seated at breakfast, the official list of approved contestants spread out on the table before them.
"One thousand five hundred contestants," Finn said, his finger tracing a line on the parchment. "Out of eight thousand applicants. The Emperor is not messing around."
"And of course," Aidan added, a mischievous grin on his face, "our Daphne is front and center. I believe the royal printer even used a fancier font for her name."
The family laughed. The air was filled with a sense of accomplishment, a small victory in a much larger war. Lady Elizabeth poured another cup of tea, her eyes shining with pride.
"I knew they couldn't ignore her. She is a true force of nature."
"Speaking of which," Emma said, a playful smile on her lips, "congratulations, Finn. I never thought I'd see the day you'd be a married man."
Finn's face flushed.
"The wedding is in a week's time. We have much to do."
Their conversation was interrupted by the urgent clearing of a throat.
A guard, clad in the royal blue and silver of the imperial palace, stood at the entrance to the dining room.
He bowed low, "My sincerest greetings to the Duke and his noble family. An imperial letter for lady Daphne."
He held out a scroll sealed with the Empress's personal crest.
The room fell silent. An invitation from the Empress was an unusual and unsettling event.
Daphne took the scroll, unrolling the thick parchment.
The words were formal, it was a command disguised as a request. It was an invitation for a private luncheon with the Empress at the Imperial Palace.
"This is a trap," Lady Elizabeth declared, her voice filled with a protective fury. "A blatant attempt to intimidate you."
"She will accuse you of disrespect if you refuse," the Duke said, his voice grim. "To refuse an imperial invitation is to disrespect the crown."
Daphne remained calm, her eyes fixed on the parchment. "She wants to test me. To see if I'm afraid of her. I will go."
"Nonsense!" the Duke thundered, "You will not go alone. You will take five guards with you. I will not have you walking into a viper's nest without protection."
"Papa" Daphne said, "Five guards would be an insult. It would show that I am afraid of her, that I believe she would try something so brazen in her own home. It would make us look weak."
"She might try something brazen because she is a cornered snake!" Aidan insisted, his voice laced with concern.
"Then we will have to make her think she is the one in control," Daphne said, "I will take two guards. No more, no less. Two is enough to show I am a woman of importance, but not so many as to be a public challenge. She will assume I am a naive girl, and that will be her crucial mistake. She will think she has the upper hand, but she has just given me an opportunity to study her, to see her true colors before the competition even begins."
The Duke, after a moment of quiet consideration, gave a slow, reluctant nod.
"Very well. Two guards it is. But they will be the best I have. They will be your shadows. Now, go. And show that Queen of snakes what a lioness looks like."
Daphne smiled, a triumphant look in her eyes.
...
In her chambers, Daphne stood before a full-length mirror.
Her maid, Elara, was acting as if she was preparing Daphne for a royal pageant.
She fussed over the lace of her gown, adjusting the pearls at her neck and smoothing a stray strand of hair.
"Kindly stay still, my lady." Elara said, "The Empress will be looking for any imperfection. Every detail must be flawless."
Daphne smiled at her reflection, "Let her look, Elara. My worth is not in my appearance."
A soft knock sounded at the door, and her personal guard, Kael, entered the room. He bowed respectfully.
"My Lady," he said. "The men are ready. The Duke's guards are at your disposal, and the others are in position."
Daphne turned from the mirror, her serene expression unwavering.
"Thank you, Kael." Her gaze held a silent, knowing message for him. "But I will also have two of our shadow guards accompany us. They are to stay hidden. They will observe every move and every face. They will be our eyes and ears."
Kael's brow furrowed in a rare display of concern. "My Lady, the Duke insisted on more visible protection. He believes this is too great a risk."
"And the Duke's wishes will be honored, Kael," Daphne said, her voice firm. "He believes I have two guards and a chaperone. In truth, I will have some hidden guards of my own."
Kael, after a moment of consideration, gave a slow nod. "As you wish, My Lady. The orders will be passed on."
Daphne gave him a confident smile. "Good. Now, go. I have an Empress to meet."
....
The carriage rumbled through the quiet streets, a silent tension filling the air.
As they turned down a narrow lane, Daphne's instincts flared.
The street was eerily empty. "Stay low, Elara," she commanded.
Immediately, the air was filled with the sickening whistle of arrows, followed by the harsh clang of blades.
Men in green, a dozen, then fifteen, descended from the shadows.
Daphne's guards drew their swords, moving to protect their lady. The battle was swift and brutal.
"Elara, do not move!" Daphne commanded, picking up her sword to go fight.
As she opened the carriage door, an attacker charged, his sword aimed for her heart.
Suddenly, a black-cladded figure appeared, blocking the blade with his.
He was not alone.
From the shadows, a group of masked men in black joined the fight with a singular purpose: to protect Daphne.
The fight was over in moments. The masked men fought with ruthless precision, and all fifteen attackers lay dead on the street.
As the last man fell, Daphne felt a sharp, stinging pain in her side.
A thin, bloody cut marked her. The masked men, their purpose fulfilled, disappeared as quickly as they had arrived, leaving the street silent once more.
Daphne stood over the bodies, her heart pounding.
She knew her father's men. These men were not from her guards. They were too fluid, too silent, too deadly.
The Empress had not chosen parlor games. She had chosen to kill. And in doing so, she had revealed to Daphne that this was no longer a competition; it was a war.
A war where the prize was her life, and she now had an unexpected, unseen ally fighting on her side.
The only sounds were the ragged breaths of Kael and the guards, who were kneeling on the ground, their swords were still drawn, their eyes wide with disbelief.
Elara's face was pale. She peeked from the carriage, her eyes fixed on the scene before her.
"My Lady, are you hurt?" Kael asked, his voice thick with concern. "Are you alright?"
Daphne pressed a hand to her side, a thin line of blood seeping through her fingers.
She ignored the question, her eyes fixed on the bodies of the dead attackers. "Kael," she said in urgent whisper. "Who were those men in black? They were not our guards."
Kael's brow furrowed, confusion on his face. "I don't know, My Lady. I've never seen their fighting style. It was... precise. They were like ghosts."
"They were the Skyblade Shadow Knights" Daphne murmured to herself, a cold realization dawning on her.
The men were not from her father's guard, nor were they from any force she had ever seen.
They were Prince Alaric's men. A gentle warmth spread through her chest, but she quickly suppressed it. Now was not the time for sentiment.
"We must return to the manor at once, My Lady," Kael said. "It is no longer safe here. We will inform the Duke of what happened and devise a new plan."
Daphne shook her head, a cold, determined look on her face.
"No, Kael," she said, her voice firm. "Going back would be foolish. It would prove to the Empress that she has succeeded. That she has frightened me into submission. It would show her that she can use fear as a weapon against us. I will not be a victim. She wants me to run, but I will not give her the satisfaction. We will proceed with the plan. We will go to the palace."
"She is waiting for a terrified girl to arrive at her doorstep. I will not be one."