Upon her return from the palace, a weary Daphne found the Thomas manor eerily quiet.
The butler informed her that her brothers and parents were all out, each tending to their own affairs.
A wave of relief washed over her.
In her disheveled state, she wasn't ready to face her family's worried questions.
She needed time to process the terrifying events that had just unfolded.
Reaching her room, she allowed her maid, Elara, to help her change out of her clothes.
She then meticulously cleaned and treated the shallow wound on her side.
Hours later, as the sun began to set, a maid came to invite her down for dinner. It was then that Daphne learned from Elara that her parents had returned while she was asleep.
They had already heard the full story of what had happened.
The moment she sat she got to the dinning hall, a flurry of questions erupted.
"Are you alright, my child?" her father, the Duke, asked, his voice thick with concern.
"Kael and the others told us what happened. That the Empress's men ambushed you."
Lady Elizabeth's hands trembled as she gestured to Daphne. "That dreadful woman! How could she?"
Daphne met their worried gazes with a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Mother, truly. My guards acted with incredible bravery."
She chose her words carefully, saying nothing about the mysterious masked men.
"But the guards, Daphne," the Duke said, his gaze fixed on her. "Kael said that a team of masked men appeared, fighting with a skill that was almost inhuman. They saved you and your men. Do you have any idea who sent them?"
The question hung in the air, pulling everyone's attention to Daphne.
She knew her family was looking for answers.
Just as Daphne opened her mouth to speak, Aidan's voice cut through the silence, calm and deliberate. "It was probably General Alaric."
A collective gasp swept through the room.
Finn stared at Aidan, his mouth slightly ajar. "The Prince? But… why? What would he do that?"
"He's been working on imperial security," Aidan said smoothly, his eyes meeting his father's. "It would make sense that he'd send a team to observe the competition's participants."
He met their stunned expressions with a knowing, almost secretive, smile. It was an expression that showed he was privy to a secret they weren't.
Aidan knew his friend, Alaric, had had eyes for his sister for years.
This was his move. He was finally acting on it. And Aidan, now in the know, was going to make sure no one got in his way.
"Yeah, you're right. It's probably part of the protocol but so many men? Isn't that too many for each noble lady? Also if truly they were part of the imperial security, they would have had the imperial crest and uniform on, not unidentified uniforms," the Duke said,
Aidan's confident smile didn't waver.
"Father, this isn't a parade. If they had worn the crest, it would have been an open declaration of the Prince's involvement, a direct provocation to the Empress. The Empress's men wore no crests, either. It's the new way of doing things in the palace. A game of shadows."
Daphne nodded, her gaze fixed on her father. "Aidan is right, Father. The Empress's ambush was a silent one. General Alaric's response had to be the same. The lack of crests, the overwhelming number of men... it's all part of the Prince's strategy to make a point without starting a war."
The Duke sat back in his chair, his eyes sweeping from Daphne to Aidan and back again.
"Well then, we must express our gratitude," the Duke said slowly, "Aidan, extend our invitation for dinner to his highness, he has saved Daphne's life. We owe him a lot. Anyday is fine."
"Yes, father."
"I don't think he'd honour our invitation, he's a very busy man." Finn said.
"Oh... he would," Aidan replied, a knowing glint in his eyes as he starred at his sister whose attention had shifted to a cinnamon bun their mother had just placed in her plate.
Daphne, who was pretending to eat, maintained a mask of placid calm, but inside, her mind raced.
The idea of him being so close, of having to sit across from him at their family table, sent a jolt of anxiety through her. She wasn't sure how she would behave.
The Prince who had loved her, the General who had just saved her, the Emperor's most trusted confidant... all of them were the same man.
She wasn't ready to face him.
Not yet.
She wasn't ready to confront the unspoken truths that lay between them, the ghost of a past she was desperately trying to escape.
Her heart, a fortress she had built around herself, now felt a sudden, terrifying vulnerability.
The Empress's ambush was over, but this new battle, a battle of hearts and wills, was just beginning.
...
The following morning, Daphne was training for the competition. She moved with silent grace, as she sparred with one of her father's guards.
The guard, a veteran in battlefields, found himself constantly on the defensive, impressed by her speed and precision.
It was during a brief pause for breath that her maid, Elara, approached the yard, a serene smile on her face.
In her hands, she held an elegant vase.
"My Lady," Elara said softly, her voice carrying a note of excitement. "You have a gift."
The guard glanced at the vase, a clear sign that this was not a simple delivery. He gave a respectful nod to Daphne.
"With your permission, My Lady, I will excuse myself."
Daphne nodded, her eyes fixed on the vase.
As the guard walked away, she took the vase from Elara.
Inside, a beautiful collection of flowers had been arranged. The most prominent were an array of white, her favourite and blue orchids, which were known to be very rare.
Tucked amongst them was a small, cream-colored card, sealed with a familiar, personal crest: the lion of Alaric and a small bottle of ointment.
Daphne's heart hammered as she pulled the card free. Her hands, so steady just moments before, trembled as she read the bold, decisive script.
The message was brief, yet its words were an absolute claim.
"Wait for me, Princess. You will be mine soon and I, yours. The salve is for your wound.
With love, A.B."
Daphne's breath hitched in her throat.
The words were not a request; they were a declaration. He had sent a message of his intentions, not to her family, but to her alone.
A strange mix of fear and excitement coiled in her stomach. He was a man of his word, a man of power.
He was not waiting for her approval. He was simply stating a fact, a fact she was not sure how to handle.
He knew about her wound.
She was sure his knights had informed him, she had been very convinced that she had kept her pain hidden. But his knights had noticed.
Then, a flicker of memory, sharp and vivid, shot through her mind.
She remembered the gift she had received on her birthday: a magnificent blue bow and arrow, delivered with a similar card.
The handwriting was identical, and the signature, "A.B.," was the same.
But on that card, there had been no crest. It was a gift from a secret admirer she had never been able to place. Now, she understood. He had been waiting for her, watching over her, and now he had made his move.
Just then, Lianna, flushed with excitement and unaware of the tension that had just filled the air, came to the training ground.
"Daphne! How are the preparations going? You must be so busy!" Lianna said, her voice full of cheerful energy.
Daphne forced a brief smile. "They are going well, thank you," she said, carefully setting the vase down on a nearby bench. "It's all quite demanding."
Lianna's eyes widened with a dramatic flair. "That's some beautiful flowers you got there, You must hear the latest rumors!" Lianna said, her voice a theatrical whisper. "The whole city is talking about it. They say the Empress lost control of her bladder yesterday!"
Daphne's expression remained passive.
That was her doing. The shame, the public humiliation, it was exactly what she wanted.
Lianna continued, her voice filled with a morbid curiosity. "And that's not all. Did you hear about House of Rexton? They say it was burnt to the ground last night. All of their wealth, their properties, everything gone. Just ash."
Daphne felt a cold shiver run down her spine.
The same day.
It had taken him less than a day to exact his revenge. She knew it wasn't the Emperor.
The Emperor's style was to issue a decree of demotion or exile, a slow, public punishment that upheld the law. But this... destroying everything they owned was the General's style.
She was familiar with his ruthlessness. In her last life, the General was known for his cold efficiency, a ruthless cunning that made everyone fear him.
The destruction of House of Rexton was a message, a declaration that Alaric was fighting for her. The thought warmed her heart.
Daphne, wanting to escape the topic, offered a bright smile. "That sounds dreadful. But I'm sure you have some wonderful news yourself. How are your wedding preparations going?"
Lianna's attention instantly turned to her upcoming nuptials, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, Daphne, they're going so well! I got my dress yesterday. There wasn't enough time to design it from scratch, of course, but I was able to get a custom piece from Sisi Steph, the most popular wedding dress designer in the city. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen." She beamed. "The wedding is in two days!"
Daphne smiled, happy for her friend's innocent joy, yet all too aware of the world they both inhabited.
She had told Finn not to tell Lianna what had happened to her, she knew her friend was a very emotional person who worried too much.
One friend was preparing for a day of love and celebration, while the other was preparing for a war.