The clock struck six just as Daphne slipped into her room, locking the door behind her. The silence was a stark contrast to the frantic energy in the hall. Waiting for her was Elara, who had already lit the room's lanterns, casting a warm glow.
"My lady, you're back," Elara said, a quiet relief in her voice. "How was your first day in the palace? The palace seems much more intense than the manor."
Daphne sighed, letting her shoulders relax for the first time all day. She moved to a comfortable chair and began unpinning the veil from her hair. "It was... eventful. What about you? Are they giving you too much work to do?"
Elara shook her head. "No, my lady. The work is not too much. There are many of us assigned to the contestants' quarters, and we've been busy preparing the fields for the competitions."
"Preparing the fields?" Daphne asked, her interest piqued.
"Yes, my lady. It seems there will be many events to test the ladies' strength and spirit," Elara replied, her voice soft as she began to unlace the back of Daphne's dress.
As Elara helped her change into a simple nightgown, Daphne's mind began to race. An outdoor competition would require a different kind of grace, one that was athletic and strong, not just polite and poised. The Imperial Palace was testing every facet of a lady's character.
After Elara finished with her tasks, she quietly excused herself, leaving Daphne in the peaceful solitude of her room.
Daphne took a seat at the small writing desk, pulled out the book from her satchel, and continued studying. She was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't footsteps on the rug.
"You look quite dedicated."
The voice was a low, familiar rumble that sent a shockwave through her body. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. She had been so sure she was alone. The room was locked.
She turned, her movements, swift and silent. Her hand instinctively moved to the hidden dagger she'd sewn into the lining of her nightgown. But the tension in her shoulders evaporated the moment she saw him.
Alaric was sitting on her bed, completely at ease, as if he had been there all evening. He was dressed in a simple tunic and dark trousers, and the lamplight cast his face in shadows, emphasizing the sharp planes of his features. There was no sign of a struggle, no broken lock, no hint of how he had entered. He had simply appeared.
"How...?" she began, her voice a hushed whisper.
He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "I promised I would ensure your safety. It would be a rather poor promise if I couldn't even bypass a single door."
His dark eyes flickered from her face to the book on the table, a glint of approval in their depths. The book on poisons laid open. He had seen she was already at work.
"You did well today," he said, his voice flat but a sense of pride shining through. "Your composure at breakfast, your decision to hide your talent… you are playing the game exactly as you should."
Daphne felt a wave of surprise. She hadn't expected him to be watching so closely, nor had she expected praise. "I only did what felt right," she said, her voice softer now, her guard finally dropping.
"What feels right is often the best strategy," he replied. "The Empress is a master of manipulation. She expects these ladies to be foolish and reckless. You are neither." He gestured to the open book. "You have already discovered one of her greatest secrets. Now, tell me everything."
Daphne took a deep breath.
"Kael confirmed it," she said, her voice steady. "He found 'special spices' in the palace kitchens, turned into a paste. When I cross-referenced it with the notes you gave me..." She trailed off, gesturing to the open pages.
"The symptoms, the method of delivery. It all matches," she continued, her voice grim. "It's not a fast-acting poison, it's slow. It doesn't kill. It causes infertility."
Alaric's expression remained calm, but a shadow passed over his features. "A perfect weapon for a woman like the Empress," he said, his voice a low rumble. "She doesn't want martyrs. She wants to ensure that these great noble houses can never breed their own heirs with the Emperor."
Daphne nodded. "The book said it's a combination of spices that are harmless on their own. The kitchen staffs probably have no idea what they're doing. This is a quiet, systemic way to cut off every family's lineage."
"So you see now," Alaric said, his eyes holding hers. "The game isn't about beauty or talent. It's a war."
He leaned forward, "The challenge now is to find the person behind it. The Empress won't have her hands in the flour herself. She has an agent. The question is, who?"
"What should we do next?" Daphne asked, her voice tight with a newfound urgency. She was ready to act, ready to find the culprit herself.
Alaric's expression was calm, almost reassuring. "You did your part. For now, you are to do nothing." He leaned back on his hands, his gaze steady. "My men are on it. We already have a suspect in mind, but we need confirmation from the inside."
Daphne's eyes widened. "You already have a suspect?"
"Intelligence is about being two steps ahead," he replied. "Your report confirms we are on the right path. They're observing and investigating to be sure. We will not move until we have absolute proof."
He paused, a grim silence falling over the room. "There's something else. The food meant for you this morning... it was poisoned."
Daphne's breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, unable to speak.
"By who?" she managed to whisper.
"We have a guess," he said, the words heavy with a quiet certainty. "I had its contents checked. It was a poison designed to cause a severe skin reaction. Rashes, itching, inflammation... enough to make you unable to appear in public. It would have disqualified you immediately."
A cold shock ran through Daphne. She had not expected the Empress to act so soon, so brazenly. She had believed her veiled face would provide some anonymity.
"But... I haven't even seen the Empress," Daphne said, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would she target me so quickly?"
"You won't see her," Alaric replied, his tone firm. "Even though she's a competitor, she's still the Empress. The Emperor has granted her permission to stay in her own chambers throughout the competition. She is watching everyone from a distance, pulling the strings. She has no need to be out in the open, unlike the rest of the contestants."
"Also, remember what you did to her. She sure hasn't forgotten."
He paused, then turned his gaze toward the door.
"Enter," he commanded in a low voice.