"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"
The sudden voice shattered the fragile moment like glass struck by force. Both of them jolted, their bodies stiffening in shock.
Before Elira could even turn to see who had shouted, Cassian moved swiftly. In one urgent motion, he stepped behind her and pulled her back against him, his body shielding hers completely. His broad frame stood as a barrier, his back covering her as though he could erase her presence from sight. He did not want the young woman who had caught them to see Elira's face. More than that, he refused to drag Elira into whatever storm was about to unfold.
"What are you two doing here? Who is she, my prince? Are you having an affair?"
The sharp, accusing voice belonged to the daughter of Duke Valcourt—Anastacia—who had rushed forward without hesitation. Her eyes burned with suspicion as she strained, craning her neck in an attempt to glimpse the woman hidden behind Cassian, whom he so desperately tried to conceal.
Meanwhile, Elira's body went rigid. Her fingers trembled as they clutched the back of Cassian's garment, her grip tightening unconsciously. She lowered her head, pressing her face downwards, hiding it completely from the young noblewoman's view.
No… it's all a misunderstanding…
Her thoughts spiralled wildly, panic seeping into every corner of her mind. Her entire body shook, fear coursing through her veins. She blamed herself—entirely. In her heart, she was certain she had caused trouble for Cassian. Had she known things would turn out this way, she would have remained quietly in the maid's quarters instead of sneaking a glance at the celebration.
"Who are you? Why are you interfering in my affairs?!" Cassian snapped, his brows furrowing deeply. Irritation flashed across his face, his patience thinning as Anastacia continued her outburst, behaving as though she had some claim over him. Though it was known she was deeply infatuated—perhaps even obsessed—with the Crown Prince, her actions only fuelled his displeasure.
"Who am I?" Anastacia echoed sharply, lifting her chin with pride. "I am the daughter of Duke Valcourt. I have every right to know who the girl is that you're having an affair with!"
"Ha! You're merely a duke's daughter. How dare you point those insolent hands at me?" Cassian shot back coldly, his voice laced with disdain.
Beyond them, beneath the cascade of fireworks lighting the night sky, murmurs began to ripple through the crowd. Nobles who had stepped outside to admire the spectacle—including the Emperor himself, who had intended to escort the Empress—were instead drawn by the rising commotion. What should have been a night of celebration was slowly turning into a scene of unrest.
"What is that noise?" the Emperor wondered aloud, his gaze shifting towards the rose garden.
Moments later, a servant appeared at the Empress's side, bowing respectfully before leaning in to whisper something into her ear. The Empress's expression changed instantly—shock flickering across her composed features.
"What? Let's go."
Without hesitation, she moved swiftly towards the direction mentioned, her steps urgent and purposeful.
"Where are you going?" the Emperor asked, concern evident as he reached for her wrist.
"Just stay here. There is something I must attend to," the Empress replied firmly, pulling away as she left him behind amidst the fireworks.
Back at the centre of the chaos—
"I SAID, WHO IS SHE, MY PRINCE?! I WILL BE YOUR FUTURE WIFE—HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" Anastacia's voice rose higher, shrill with emotion, causing Cassian's temper to flare further.
"Ha? Has my mother declared such a thing? I would never agree!" Cassian retorted sharply, his tone cutting. "You're nothing more than a duke's daughter."
If Anastacia had been a man, Cassian would have already struck her down without hesitation. Yet he restrained himself, unwilling to worsen the situation—especially with Elira caught in the middle of it all.
"Tell me who she is!" Anastacia demanded again.
Driven by sudden force, she shoved Cassian aside. Caught off balance, he staggered briefly, and in that fleeting moment, Elira was exposed. She stood there, her head bowed, both hands covering her face in a desperate attempt to remain unseen.
"Why, you—!" Anastacia hissed, fury blazing in her eyes. She lunged forward, intending to grab Elira's arm and force her to reveal her face—
"Kyaaa!"
A startled cry escaped her lips as her wrist was suddenly seized. A firm grip halted her movement before she could reach Elira, pushing her away with force.
At that exact moment, another figure stepped forward.
Cassian's eyes widened slightly as he recognized him.
Without wasting a second, That person removed his coat and draped it over Elira, covering her entirely—her head, her face, her very presence—shielding her from every prying gaze.
"WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON HERE?!"
The commanding, dignified voice cut through the tension. Everyone turned at once.
"Your Majesty—the Empress," Anastacia said quickly, bowing at once.
"Mother…" Cassian's voice lowered, tension evident as his hands clenched slightly at his sides. He had not expected things to escalate this far. Had he been more careful, none of this would have happened.
Beside him, the man who had intervened—still keeping Elira concealed beneath his coat—bowed respectfully.
Within the darkness of the coat, Elira's heart pounded violently. She could barely process what was happening. She did not even realize who had covered her—yet the warmth, the scent… it felt strangely familiar. Still, her thoughts were consumed by one thing alone: the chaos she had caused, and the rumors that might now spread because of her.
"Your Majesty! I saw the Crown Prince embracing someone!" Anastacia declared, pointing accusingly at Cassian, her voice filled with indignation. Which made the empress shocked.
"What? Is this true, Cassian?" the Empress asked, her brows knitting together.
"Mother, it's a misunderstanding. I and—" Cassian stopped abruptly, his gaze flickering towards Elira. He could not say her name. Doing so would only bring her more harm.
"You see? He cannot even say her name, Your Majesty!" Anastacia pressed, anger evident in her tone.
"Would you care to explain, Sylas, what truly happened?" the Empress said calmly, though there was authority beneath her voice.
At the sound of that name, Elira's eyes widened.
Sylas…?
Her trembling fingers instinctively clutched the fabric at his chest. Sylas felt it—the slight, desperate grip—and without drawing attention, he slipped one hand beneath the coat, gently taking her cold hand in his own. His touch was steady, grounding.
Elira froze for a brief second at the unexpected contact. Yet instead of pulling away, she leaned closer, her body instinctively seeking the warmth of his presence. Her fingers tightened around his hand as though silently pleading—
Help me…
And in return, his presence seemed to answer—
Do not worry. I am here.
"Your Majesty, my apologies. The Prince was merely assisting the lady, as she had lost her way," Sylas said smoothly, his tone composed, subtly guiding the Empress towards a conclusion that would prevent further scandal.
The Empress understood immediately. She knew all too well how dangerous Anastacia's words could become if left unchecked—and she trusted Sylas above all in such matters.
"Ha! That's a lie, Your Majesty! I know he was just cover—"
"I believe the matter is settled, my lady. Let us forget what occurred tonight," the Empress interrupted firmly, signaling one of her attendants.
"But, Your Majesty—this is wrong!" Anastacia protested, struggling as she was escorted away.
The Empress stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Anastacia's shoulder. Her smile remained poised—yet beneath it lay something far colder.
"Mind your words, young lady. You do not know your place."
Anastacia froze, fear creeping into her expression as she felt the weight behind that calm warning.
"Y-yes, Your Majesty…" she stammered softly, lowering her head.
As she was led away, the Empress leaned in slightly, whispering into her ear—words that made Anastacia's eyes widen in sheer terror.
"Do not dare spread rumors… or your father will be removed from noble society."
Her voice was soft—yet merciless.
"I shall speak with your father regarding this matter. For now, return and rest. Your family must be looking for you," she added.
Anastacia could do nothing but comply, her body trembling as she was escorted away.
Once she was gone, the Empress turned back towards Cassian and Sylas.
"Sylas, take that girl to her room. I shall speak with her tomorrow," she commanded.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Sylas replied with a nod.
He gently guided Elira to move—but paused when he noticed something unusual.
She could not walk.
Her body felt weak, almost numb, as though all her strength had been drained by fear.
What is happening to me…? Please… walk, Elira… she urged herself desperately.
"Can you walk?" Sylas whispered softly.
Elira flinched slightly at his voice.
"I'm afraid I can't… I'm sorry…" she replied faintly.
"I will carry you," he murmured.
"No, wai—"
Her protest was cut short as Sylas carefully lifted her into his arms. Even then, her face remained hidden beneath his coat.
Cassian watched in silence.
The sight pierced him deeply.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his chest tightening painfully. He wished—more than anything—that he were in Sylas's place. That it was him protecting her, holding her, shielding her from everything.
Instead… he had been the one to lead her into trouble.
The Empress observed her son quietly. From the way he reacted, it was clear—there was something about that girl.
After Sylas and Elira disappeared from sight, the Empress turned away as well.
"Mother, let me explain…" Cassian called, raising his hand slightly.
"Is this your gift, Cassian?" she asked coldly, not turning back.
He felt the weight of her anger in those few words.
"No, I—"
"We shall speak another time. I am tired. Good night."
Her voice left no room for argument.
And just like that, she walked away—leaving Cassian standing alone amidst the fading echoes of fireworks, his fists still clenched as the chaos of the night settled heavily upon him.
********
Now that the chaos had finally settled beneath the luminous night sky during the Empress's birthday celebration, Bea continued wandering through the palace corridors.
The hallway stretched endlessly before her, lined with the offices of various imperial officials, including that of the Imperial Strategist. Despite the grand celebration still taking place outside, this part of the palace had fallen unusually quiet.
Bea moved from one corridor to another, her gaze sweeping across every door she passed.
She was searching for the Crown Prince—the very prince Sylas had asked her to help find after the Crown Prince had mysteriously disappeared during the celebration.
Perhaps he had come this way.
"Where could he have gone?" Bea murmured to herself, glancing around once more.
The fireworks had not yet ended. Their distant booms echoed across the palace grounds, accompanied by flashes of brilliant colour that occasionally illuminated the darkened corridor.
As she continued walking, a burst of golden light suddenly caught her attention.
Bea slowed to a stop before an enormous window overlooking the imperial gardens.
The entire pane was filled with dazzling reflections from the fireworks exploding across the night sky. Streaks of crimson, sapphire, emerald, and gold painted the glass with breathtaking colours.
"Wooow... It's so beautiful..." she whispered.
The brilliant lights danced across her dark eyes, causing them to sparkle with childlike wonder.
Without realizing it, Bea reached beneath the collar of her maid's dress and gently pulled out the emerald necklace she always kept hidden close to her chest.
The familiar gemstone rested in her palm.
The moment her eyes fell upon it, a wave of nostalgia washed over her.
It reminded her of her mother.
Ever since Bea had been a little girl, her mother would bring her to the capital whenever the annual Imperial Festival was held. They would stand among the crowds, watching the magnificent fireworks together beneath the stars.
Those had been some of the happiest memories of Bea's life.
A faint smile appeared on her lips as she lowered her gaze to the necklace.
Slowly, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift back into those treasured memories.
~
"Do not worry, my daughter. We shall watch the fireworks again and again, as many times as you wish."
Masiwell smiled warmly as she held the tiny hand of her daughter.
Little Bea wore a beautiful white dress, while Masiwell was dressed in her simple tavern attire. Side by side, mother and daughter gazed up at the dazzling fireworks illuminating the heavens.
"YES, MAMA!"
Young Bea exclaimed excitedly.
Her cheeks flushed pink with delight as she pointed towards the sky.
The two of them remained there together, smiling and laughing while admiring the colourful display above.
~
The memory, however, soon began to fade.
The warmth of those days had long since disappeared.
Her mother had contracted syphilis, an illness that eventually claimed her life.
After her mother's passing, five-year-old Bea had been left with no choice but to work at Morgan's Tavern to help repay the debt her mother had left behind.
Fortunately, Bea had never suited Mr Morgan's tastes.
Rather than serving his clients, she spent her days scrubbing floors, cleaning tables, and carrying out endless chores throughout the tavern.
The painful memories tightened around her heart.
Bea felt her eyes sting.
A tear threatened to fall, but she quickly lifted a hand and wiped her cheeks.
"No..." she whispered softly.
Shaking her head, she tried to push the sorrowful memories away.
However, as she did so, the pendant attached to her emerald necklace suddenly slipped from her grasp.
"My pendant!"
Bea gasped.
The emerald charm struck the marble floor with a sharp clink before rolling rapidly across the corridor.
Her eyes widened.
Without hesitation, she hurried after it.
The pendant continued rolling farther and farther away until it slipped beneath the gap of someone's office door.
"My pendant..." Bea cried anxiously.
She rushed forward, reaching out as if she could still catch it.
But it was already too late.
The precious pendant had disappeared inside the room beyond the door and it was from the Imperial Strategist Room.