Later, in the Queen Dowager's room at the Flower Manor…
"You must greet, meet, and converse with Lady Francisca Merrut, Lady Analisa Frothmort, and Princess Diana Willowfort of the Kingdom of Slovakia before the end of the day tomorrow. Princess Diana can be a great ally in your endeavor. If you must know, her family has held a blood feud with the Dinkleys for generations. She can aid you in your quest, so you had better impress her tomorrow," Alicia said, her gaze fixed on Ariel, who sat calmly on the sofa opposite her.
Ariel did not appear surprised by Alicia's revelation about Princess Diana Willowfort and her feud with the Dinkley family.
It seemed she already knew.
'Interesting, Alicia mused silently. She came prepared. How convenient.'
Alicia sighed and continued, "You must be careful during this competition. I am certain that the Dinkleys, Slovaks, or Brentfords have placed their minions among the contestants—especially among the elder noble ladies of the court. They will do everything in their power to soil your name and ruin you during the task. Since you have already garnered attention with the recent scandals, they will use that to provoke you and twist it against you. So tread carefully."
Ariel nodded softly before replying, "I will. Thank you for the advice."
Alicia raised an eyebrow at her monotone response. She had expected Ariel to inquire further, but instead, the young woman simply sat there, her face expressionless, her gaze steady.
"Oh… very well," Alicia murmured, before turning her eyes to the moon outside the window.
"Daniel will be free between 5 a.m. and 6 a.m., and again between 10 p.m. and 11 p.m. Although he remains available late into the night, the rules specify that you must be seen in your chambers before 11 p.m. I don't want you disqualified over something petty like returning late. So, kindly make use of the time given. And remember…" Alicia leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You are the only one who knows this. The other noble ladies must not learn of Daniel's free hours. They should only see him during the official interactions of the competition. Understood?"
Ariel nodded softly. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will do as you request."
Alicia frowned slightly at her monotone reply. She had expected curiosity, perhaps even eagerness, but Ariel remained expressionless, her calm gaze fixed on her.
"Is everything all right, Ariel dear? You don't quite seem like yourself. Is something wrong?" Alicia asked, her tone laced with concern.
Ariel blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden question. "I am fine, Your Majesty. I don't quite understand what you mean."
"Well, you don't sound fine, dear. Did you have a fight with anyone? Did someone wrong you?" Alicia pressed gently.
'If your grandson is on the list, then yes,' Ariel mused darkly. 'Someone did wrong me—and I am on the verge of declaring a full‑blown war, something I never expected to be forced into at this moment. He had better not harm those vendors, or else… don't blame me for what I will do. There might never be a royal wedding after all.' Her fist clenched tightly on her lap.
She forced a small smile before replying, "Nothing is wrong, Your Majesty. I am simply tired from the journey and would very much like to rest. Thank you for the update. I promise to use it to my advantage. But if that is all, I would like to retire to my chambers."
Alicia studied her closely, catching the flicker of conflict in Ariel's expression. It was obvious she was hiding something. And by the looks of it, it was something big. But since this woman was already complicated to understand in the first place, Alicia decided to let it go.
Otherwise, she might never uncover exactly what Ariel was up to. And she wanted to know—especially after overhearing that phone call back at the palace.
It had been the very day the scandal erupted.
She had gone to check on Ariel, intending to speak with her about the incident, when she overheard…
"Code Black! Tell the Phantom Spiders to act now. And instruct the Sparrows to pull away for the time being. The Dragon is onto us, so we must be cautious. Stand by for further instructions."
Phantom Spiders? Sparrows? What is she talking about? Who are they? And who is she commanding—are they her subordinates, or is she their leader? What is she truly up to? Alicia mused silently, unsettled by what she had overheard.
She walked away from Ariel's door, her mind heavy with suspicion, and headed straight to Daniel's study to speak with him instead. But as she arrived, she heard a voice from inside:
"No, your Highness. We still haven't been able to uncover who the Phantom Eagles are. But we promise to keep digging into the abyss until we know."
The words rang out from within Daniel's office, chilling Alicia as she realized the threads of conspiracy were far deeper than she had imagined.
"Keep digging. And also find out about the dead body in our infirmary. It's clear those bastards killed him and are responsible for everything that happened to those prisoners. Discover who he is—now!"
Alicia heard Daniel's command echo through the study.
Suddenly, everything began to fall into place. The ones responsible for the murder of the prisoners were not who they had believed.
It was someone they had overlooked all along.
The girl who had risen from the dead.
She was the culprit.
But why had she killed those people? For what reason? What was she planning? Who was she now, exactly? It was clear she was no longer the same woman who had lived three years ago. She had become someone else entirely—and Alicia intended to find out who. If Ariel posed a threat to her family and the kingdom, then caution was necessary.
Alicia cleared her throat, shaking herself free from her reverie, and looked at the woman seated before her, waiting patiently for dismissal.
"Okay, my dear. You may go and rest. Tomorrow will be a long day, and you will need your strength. You are excused."
Ariel rose gracefully from her seat and curtsied. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Have a good night."
"Mmm…" Alicia hummed softly. "Yes. Good night, dear."
Ariel bowed once more before exiting the room.
Alicia sighed, turning her gaze back to the moon.
"I hope everything goes according to plan," she whispered.
************
Later....
The sound of running water echoed through the dimly lit room.
Inside the bathroom, a striking figure with fiery red hair stood gracefully beneath the shower, cleansing herself as the steam curled around her.
After a while, she turned off the water and stepped out, droplets glistening against her skin.
She moved toward the towel rack, picking up a drying towel and running it across her body with slow, deliberate motions. Then, she tied her hair into a messy bun, securing it beneath the towel.
Finally, she took another towel and wrapped it snugly around her body, the faint scent of soap lingering in the air.
She slipped quietly out of the bathroom and into her walk‑in closet.
Humming a sweet tune, she paused to admire herself in the full‑length mirror hanging on the wall.
But then—she froze.
A faint sound reached her ears: the creak of a door opening.
She listened intently, her breath catching. The sound wasn't coming from the hallway.
It was coming from the mirror.
She stepped closer cautiously, hearing faint movement on the other side of the wall.
Leaning in, she pressed her ear against the mirror, straining to catch more of the sound.
She stood like that for a while, listening in silence, until—
"Aaah!"
She yelped as the mirror suddenly curved inward, sliding into the wall as though it were opening like a door. Making her fall on the ground.
She thought she had hit the floor, so she grumbled as she rubbed her sore temples.
"Ow… that hurt," she muttered, adjusting the towel that had slipped, exposing part of her breasts. She quickly stood up, unwrapped the towel, fixed it, tying it tighter around her body.
But when she tried to stand, her legs gave way beneath her. She slipped and fell again, the cold surface beneath her refusing to let her rise.
"What the…" she grumbled, attempting once more to stand—only to slip and crash down again.
"Hey… what gives?" she complained, but her words died in her throat as a low, animalistic growl echoed through the room.
Moonlight spilled into the dark space, illuminating a glistening, eight‑pack muscled frame.
Her eyes widened in shock. She reached out and squeezed the figure, just to make sure she wasn't imagining it.
Another growl rumbled in response, followed by a grumble: "You truly are fucking enjoying this, aren't you…"
At the voice's remark, she slowly lifted her gaze upward—only for her blood to run cold at the sight of two deep crimson eyes staring directly into hers. But not at her—at the view revealed by her loosened towel.
She could see the beast swallow hard with desire before dropping the usual cliché line:
"You are in some serious trouble…"
'Seriously… not again!' she thought, exasperated.
***********
Earlier…
"The fool was always getting into trouble by meddling with their protected. It's no surprise if they finally dealt with him. Tsk… the bastard."
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Their protected?"
The man wheezed. "Yeah. They call themselves the guardian angels of the people of the kingdom, so they've always had it out for us gangster scum of the streets. I warned him not to get too involved, but I guess… he didn't listen."
The video glowed faintly in the darkened space before flickering out and shutting off.
"Looks like our dear secret opponents still haven't shown up to rescue their benefactors. What do you think they're planning?" Blake asked, seated opposite Daniel at the desk in Daniel's bedroom at Flower Manor.
"They know it's a trap," Daniel muttered. "Looks like our Phantoms are truly smart after all. They won't engage unless they're truly provoked."
"Tsk… too bad," Blake replied. "So… what should we do with the vendors? Should we let them go, or press them for more answers?"
Daniel closed his eyes, drumming his fingers against the desk as he sank into thought.
"I've come to believe our Phantoms are not easy targets to lure in, as we once thought. They've been operating under our noses for so long without anyone realizing it. And naturally… although I hate to admit it… they are not our enemies. They've been helping the people of the kingdom, easing their ailments and suffering under the harsh, cruel rule of the noble classes. That is something noble. And they haven't attacked us directly, nor provoked us—except for their infiltration of my palace and their attack on me. Carrying out secret, shady missions right under my nose… that is something I cannot tolerate." He paused, exhaled, and continued. "However, it also proves that they are formidable opponents—ones who could become a great threat to us. We still don't know how powerful they are, or how many of them exist. If we act out of line, we might ignite a bloody war. Just as that bastard said, things will go south if we touch their 'protected.' So I don't want to risk it. At least not now."
Blake hummed thoughtfully. "Okay. So…" He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Do you still think your… dear 'exception' is one of them? Or just a benefactor?"
Daniel remained silent for a long moment, lost in thought.
"Honestly… I don't know, Blake. For once in my life, I truly don't know. Although her and her family's information was recovered, it's still not enough. I believe there is more about her—and the Fortmores—that remains hidden. They're making it very difficult to uncover. They're even toying with my Shadow Demons in the abyss, which makes me wonder… what exactly are they hiding?"
Blake hummed. "Okay. Fine. Well, don't worry. We'll keep digging until we find the answers we seek—and finally put a stop to this."
He stood from his chair and stretched lazily. "As for me, I completely forgot I'm still on vacation, thanks to your endless problems. But now that the hell of your bridal selection has begun, I'd rather not entangle myself with it. At least not yet."
Daniel snorted. "So running away as the war begins is your idea of a vacation? Tsk… what a coward. A fucking pussy."
Blake smirked. "Well, at least this fucking pussy will be enjoying full days of relaxation instead of suffocating in strong, bitchy perfume all day. Good luck, Your Highness. You'll need it." He snickered before moving toward the door.
"Don't worry. Your hell is coming soon. Slovak Junior. Better fuck all your pussies before the beast traps you in his cage in no time," Daniel called out.
"Well, this…" Blake raised his middle finger before continuing, "…to him, if he thinks he can control me."
Daniel chuckled under his breath as Blake walked out of the room. "Asshole…" he muttered.
He then rose from his chair, heading toward his walk‑in closet. With deliberate movements, he removed his clothes and tied a towel around his waist, preparing himself for a bath.
He was about to leave for the bathroom when he heard the faint sound of a door opening.
Startled, he stepped out to check if an intruder had entered his room—but found no one.
Convinced it was only his imagination, he dismissed the thought and went to shower.
Later, after bathing and preparing to dress for bed, the sound returned. The creak of a door opening echoed once more through the space.
This time, it was coming from inside the walk‑in closet.
Daniel froze, listening intently. A soft humming drifted out from within.
A woman.
And her voice—captivating, sweet—drifted through the closet.
Daniel strained his ears, following the sound until his eyes landed on one of the closet doors.
Cautious, he switched off the lights inside the walk‑in closet, cloaking himself in darkness.
He leaned closer, pressing his ear against the door. Movement stirred faintly behind it.
Then, after a while, the movement stopped. He frowned, wondering why.
Driven by curiosity, he yanked the door open to investigate—only to be caught off guard as a figure toppled forward, crashing onto him.
The impact sent him sprawling flat on his back across the floor.
"Ow… that hurt."
He heard the figure groan in pain. But hell—he was the one in more pain, having slammed hard onto the floor, flat on his back.
Lifting his head, he looked to see who had landed on him, using his body as a pillow.
The moment his gaze shifted to the figure, he instantly regretted it.
What his eyes beheld set his entire body ablaze with burning desire.
A sensation so fiery and wild surged through him—something he had never felt before. Yet it came close to the inferno always ignited by his mystery woman.
But this woman was different. She was alread ywrecking havoc in his dreams, and though he didn't want to admit it, he liked her—perhaps even more than the mystery woman. Mostly because she was here, within his grasp. He could have her if he wanted.
The mystery woman remained elusive, untouchable, forever out of reach. But this one… she was close. So close that he could feel her body heat searing against his skin.
Oblivious to his presence, she dared to move—her subtle motions wreaking more havoc than anticipated, as her body rubbed against the monster he was desperately fighting to keep under control.
Sweat beaded on his brow. He felt like the room was set on fire. And was burning like hell.
He was literally losing control.
Fast.
To make matters worse as if her previous actions were like a timer. Still oblivious to his presence, the damn woman....
Unwrapped. The. Towel.
Even if it was brief, it could not erase the heaven of pleasure he had just witnessed in that moment.
It was glorious.
Pristine.
Exceptional.
A sight unlike anything he had ever seen before—
Not even in his fantasies.
'Damn! He knew his Flamingo was an exceptional beauty. But this… this completely rendered him speechless. '
And with it, all reasoning snapped. Control shattered. Desire consumed him.
He already felt an immeasurable force clawing to take control, and he knew that if it did…
The Flamingo would be in grave danger.
His thoughts shattered when he felt her struggling to stand—only to fall against him again, her body slipping on his wet skin from the shower.
The impact was strong… and sensational.
An animalistic growl tore through his throat.
His beast was awakened—hungry, restless, and ready to claim its prey until it was satisfied.
The sound seemed to make the Flamingo aware of his presence—realizing she was not resting on a pillow, but on something.
Someone else.
Yet instead of running for her life, his little rabbit dared to test the waters. Strangely, in the same way his mystery woman always did whenever they encountered. She explored his torso, squeezing the ridges of his eight‑pack muscles.
The inferno burned hotter.
He felt himself slipping further into beastly desire, control unraveling with every touch. It was becoming dangerous. And the little rabbit was playing with fire, her innocence oblivious to the monster she was provoking.
'Damn you, Flamingo! Damn you! he cursed inwardly. You are going to pay for this! I swear you are going to pay!'
His breathing grew shallow, ragged, as the beast inside clawed closer to freedom. "You are truly fucking enjoying this, aren't you?" he breathed out.
His gaze shifted back to her, locking onto her eyes.
He could see it—fear and bewilderment shimmering within them.
But unfortunately, he could do nothing about it.
His beast had already taken over.
And he felt powerless against it.
Hell, she was going to be his anyway. His grandmother would make sure of that.
So what the hell.
It wouldn't be bad to get a little taste before their real wedding night.
Would it?
'Well, you brought this upon yourself, Flamingo. So don't blame me for what I'm going to do next.'
He smirked, his voice low and dangerous.
"You are in some serious trouble."
And this time…
He meant it.