The next day, at Raymond and Ariel's mansion in the kingdom capital...
The tension at the breakfast table was palpable—thick, uncertain, and unspoken. Neither had uttered a word to the other since their argument the day before. They hadn't even shared dinner. Raymond had excused himself, claiming urgent business, leaving Ariel to dine alone.
Though they were clearly at odds, they still stole glances at each other. Silent, flickering gazes. Each waiting for the other to break the silence.
But neither did.
The quiet stretched endlessly, broken only by the soft clink of cutlery. Breakfast was nearly over.
Until—
"Mmm... mmm."
Raymond cleared his throat, finally breaking the silence.
"We're leaving for Lisboa tonight. We'll return in six days."
He paused.
"The Queen Dowager has requested that you stay in the palace during the selection."
Ariel's head snapped up.
"What? What do you mean I have to stay at the palace during the selection season? I'm supposed to stay with the other noble ladies at the Royal Villa. Why the palace? That's going to be controversial—it'll cause problems!"
"Well, you should've thought about that before breaking into the Royal Archives!" Raymond snapped, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"The Queen Dowager... she knows who you are."
Ariel's face drained of color.
"She knows who you are," Raymond continued, "but she doesn't know for sure that you were the one who broke into the Royal Archives. Still, she can use your absence from the party as an excuse to pin the blame on you—and stir up trouble."
He exhaled heavily.
"Now you see what your recklessness has caused. We're backed into a corner. The Queen Dowager is hellbent on making you the next Queen—no matter what. Which is good. Beneficial, even. But also dangerous. Because my revenge might get exposed. And that would put not only you, but the Queen Dowager herself in danger."
He scoffed.
"I hope you're satisfied. Your revenge will unfold perfectly with the Queen Dowager as your ally. But mine? Mine is now at risk of being dragged through the mud and completely foiled. Thanks a lot, my daughter. You've really helped your father."
Ariel frowned.
He was guilt-tripping her.
And she didn't like that. Not at all.
She shook her head and sighed.
"Look, I'm sorry, alright? And I promise I won't... act so recklessly next time. Like I said yesterday, I'll do my best to help with your revenge plan—but on my own terms. No pressuring me. And definitely no guilt-tripping. That's not fair. Because from where I stand, we're both at fault here."
She paused, took another breath, then continued.
"I'll also make sure the Queen Dowager never discovers your plans. I'll become the perfect Queen. I'll help in any way I can. I promise."
Raymond nodded.
"Thank you, Ariel. That's reassuring. And I know you'll do your best. But please—remember what I said yesterday. Don't hesitate to ask me for help when you're stuck. I'll always be here for you. I mean that."
He offered a small smile.
Ariel returned it.
"Thank you, Father. And I'll remember that. I promise—I'll help you, and I'll reach out when I need help too."
She wiped her hands and mouth, then stood.
'Now I just have to figure out how to deal with Prince Sir Jerksolant... so he doesn't discover my other secret identity and ruin everything.'
"Excuse me, Father. I'd better start packing for our trip back home. I'd also like to visit the capital's town center—pick up something before we leave."
Raymond raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? And what's that?"
Ariel smiled.
"A book on how to tame a dragon."
Then she turned and walked away.
Raymond blinked, confused—until realization dawned.
He smiled as he watched her retreating figure.
'And I can't wait for that to happen.'
.....
Knock. Knock.
Blake rapped on the Crown Prince's office door. He stood waiting for a reply.
Nothing.
"My Prince, it's me—Blake."
Still nothing.
"Okay... I'm coming in."
He slowly opened the door, peeking inside—and was met with darkness.
He sighed and shook his head.
'Seriously? I'm looking for someone who's clearly not in the room.'
But it was already late morning. Where could he be? Sleep in? No way. In all the years Blake had known him, the Crown Prince had never slept in. He was probably off somewhere managing business... or torturing someone because he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed.
Blake muttered to himself as he moved toward the curtains. He flung them open, letting sunlight spill into the room, then cracked the windows to let in some air.
Dusting off his hands, he whispered,
"I'd better go look for him—"
"AAAAH!"
Blake screamed, clutching his chest in panic.
His eyes had just landed on the Crown Prince—seated at his desk, completely still, his head buried in his hands.
"Oh my... Your Highness! Mmm..." Blake exclaimed, then quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. He bowed stiffly.
"Mmm... Good morning, Your Highness."
No reply.
He leaned in and saw some books and pictures of vultures and flamingos spread across the desk and a paper written 'how to pluck off a flamingo to reveal the vulture beneath.'
On the glowing screen of the Prince's tablet, an article was open: How to Know the Tactics of a Vulture: Basic Knowledge Guide.
'What the fuck?' Blake thought.
He turned his gaze to the Prince, who still hadn't moved. His head was buried in his hands, unmoving.
'Did he spend the night here?' Blake wondered.
He stepped in front of him, peering closer. Was he asleep? He waved a hand in front of his face.
Nothing.
Then—finally—a low sigh echoed through the room.
"Blake..."
Blake snapped to attention.
"A-ah, yes, Your Highness?"
"You're a... fucking annoying pussy. Do you know that?"
Blake flushed crimson and quickly looked away.
'It's not my fault he's a freak who likes brooding in the dark', he thought bitterly.
He glanced back up—only to meet the dragon's fiery red gaze.
He swallowed hard.
The dragon was awake.
"Come on. Say it."
Blake blinked.
"Huh?"
Daniel sighed.
"Say it. Say: 'I, Blake, am a fucking annoying pussy.' Say it."
Blake's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
Daniel stared at him, completely unfazed.
'Of course', Blake thought. 'I'm the one getting tortured today. How unlucky.'
Unbelievable. He sighed internally. Heavens, please open up and swallow me whole.
He looked at Daniel again—who was still watching him expectantly, waiting for the words.
Blake opened his mouth to speak when—
"Your Highness."
A Dragonfly materialized from the shadows, stepping into the room.
Blake exhaled in relief.
'Oh, thank goodness.'
Daniel shifted his gaze from Blake to the Dragonfly.
"What is it?"
The Dragonfly stepped forward.
"I have news regarding our mysterious opponents. Last night, one of our shadow demons patrolling the eastern sea border in the fief of Trans reported a sighting that may link to our new archenemies."
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Yes. He said he saw a man ejected from a plane mid-air—still strapped into his seat—over the ocean. Moments later, another man jumped out after him, just before the plane exploded. The second man's skills were... beyond professional. He maneuvered through the air, caught up to the falling man, secured a parachute to the seat, and guided them both toward a boat waiting below."
The Dragonfly paused.
"The shadow demon asked around and managed to choke a name out of someone—'The Phantom Eagles.' They're professionals. Operate in the shadows. Loved and feared by nearly everyone. Unfortunately, he couldn't get the name of the group they belong to. Forgive me."
Daniel rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"The Phantom Eagles, eh? What a catchy name. And they're loved by my subjects... now that is a problem. Could mean they're allies. Or rebels."
He fell silent, lost in thought.
The Dragonfly glanced at the desk—at the books, the flamingo and vulture imagery—then turned to Blake with a questioning look behind his mask.
Blake just shrugged.
Daniel's voice broke the silence.
"You know what I feel like doing right now?"
Both Blake and the Dragonfly exchanged a wary glance.
"Your Highness?" Blake asked cautiously.
Daniel's eyes flared a burning red. The room seemed to constrict, the air thickening with heat—as if someone had turned the temperature up sixfold.
'Oh no... is he upset about the lack of results? If so we're both screwed. And here I thought I'd escaped', Blake thought, panicking.
Both he and the Dragonfly flinched under the Prince's intense gaze.
Then—like a sudden shift in the wind—the tension evaporated. Daniel's eyes turned golden brown.
"I feel like paying a visit to my subjects today."
Both men exhaled in relief.
Daniel stood.
"Blake, get the car ready. We're leaving for the capital's town square in thirty minutes."
"Yes, Your Highness. Right away!" Blake bowed and bolted from the room—just in case the mood shifted again.
Daniel turned to the Dragonfly.
"Keep me updated."
The Dragonfly nodded and vanished into the shadows.
Daniel lifted his tablet, eyes scanning the headline. He whispered to himself,
"Might as well shop for a new edition. Don't worry, Flamingo... I'm going to pluck that vulture out of you. Just you wait."
He smiled brightly as he gazed out at the late morning sun.