"Put the bow down, Pointy-Ears," Vexilla sneered, kicking one of the severed heads casually toward the fireplace. "If you shoot me, our dear husband's heart explodes. And if his heart explodes, you die before your pretty corpse hits the floor."
Princess Elara didn't lower the silver bow. The arrow, tipped with starlight condensed into solid matter, remained aimed between Vexilla's eyes. "I am willing to take that risk if it means ridding the world of a Demon Queen. Perhaps the link is not instant. Perhaps I will have a second to savor your death."
"Amateurs," grunted Rengar. The Beast Chieftainess was ignoring them both, crouching over the headless body of the assassin. She ripped a piece of the black leather armor off with her teeth and spat it out, sniffing the exposed skin. "Neither of you smells the real problem."
Valerius rubbed his temples. The wine glass in his hand was empty. This was supposed to be the part of the night where he slept for twelve hours, not mediated a standoff between nuclear powers in a bedroom.
"Elara," Valerius said softly. He didn't use a Command this time. He just used the weary tone of a man who had reviewed the budget for the Elven reforestation project three times last week. "Look at the walls."
Elara's glowing violet eyes flickered to the stone walls of the chamber. For the first time, her composure cracked.
"Runes of Nullification," she whispered, the bow lowering slightly. "High-grade Spirit Iron inlaid with Void Dust."
"Correct," Valerius said, walking between the Elf and the Demon. It was a suicidal position for anyone else, but he moved with the casual indifference of a man walking through his own garden. "This room is designed to dampen mana output by ninety percent. If you loose that arrow, it will fizzle before it hits Vexilla. Vexilla will then close the distance and snap your neck. I will feel the pain of a snapped neck, go into shock, and die. Then Rengar dies."
He took the arrow from Elara's slackened grip and placed it on the bedside table.
"And I really," Valerius emphasized, "do not want to die on my wedding night. It's tacky."
[World-Building: Imperial Architecture - The Null Chamber]
The Imperial Bedchamber is not just a room; it is a cage designed for gods. Built during the Second Age by the Paranoiac Emperor, the walls are lined with Spirit Iron, a metal mined from the core of dead stars that absorbs magical energy. It ensures that no magical assassination can occur inside—and that no super-powered spouse can obliterate the palace during a domestic dispute.
Rengar stood up, towering over Valerius. She was a wall of muscle, fur, and raw predatory power. She poked a claw at the dead assassin's chest.
"Husband," she rumbled, her voice vibrating in Valerius's chest. "This meat... it smells wrong."
"Wrong how?" Vexilla asked, wiping her dagger on the silk sheets. "It smells like fear and cheap leather."
"No," Rengar growled. "It smells like... ozone. And lilies."
Valerius froze.
He knelt beside Rengar, ignoring the blood soaking into the knees of his ceremonial trousers. He pulled open the assassin's tunic, revealing the chest.
The skin was gray, veined with black lines that pulsed faintly even after death.
"That's not human physiology," Elara said, stepping closer, her hostility momentarily forgotten in the face of academic curiosity. "That is... Necrotic infusion."
"It's worse," Valerius said quietly. "It's a puppet spell."
He touched one of the black veins. It was cold, burning his fingertip.
"Duke Kaelen didn't just hire mercenaries," Valerius murmured, his mind racing, connecting the dots on the invisible board in his head. "He hired dead ones. These men were dead before they entered the room."
[Mystery Seed: The Undead Assassins]
Necromancy is strictly forbidden in the Human Realm, punishable by soul-shredding. For a Duke to have access to high-tier reanimation magic suggests he has a backer far more dangerous than a political faction. Who gave Kaelen the power to raise the dead?
"If they are undead," Vexilla said, her eyes narrowing, "then the one who escaped..."
"...doesn't need to breathe," Valerius finished. "And he won't stop until his master commands it."
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound was polite, rhythmic, and terrifyingly loud in the silent room.
"Your Imperial Majesty?" A muffled voice came through the heavy oak door. "We heard a disturbance. Is everything alright?"
Valerius cursed under his breath. "Captain Thorne. Duke Kaelen's nephew."
"I will kill him," Vexilla offered, raising her dagger again.
"No!" Valerius hissed. "If you open that door covered in blood with two headless bodies on the floor, the Council will declare the treaty void. They'll say the Demon Queen murdered the Emperor's guests. The war restarts tomorrow."
"Then what?" Elara asked, panic edging her voice. "We cannot hide the bodies. The smell..."
"Rengar," Valerius snapped. "Eat them."
The three monarchs stared at him.
"Excuse me?" Rengar blinked.
"I'm joking," Valerius said, checking his pocket watch. "Mostly. We have ten seconds before they breach the door under 'emergency protocol'. We need to hide the evidence. Now."
"Where?" Vexilla gestured to the room. "Under the rug?"
Valerius looked at the massive, four-poster bed. Then he looked at his three wives.
"Into the bed," he ordered.
"I beg your pardon?" Elara gasped, her ears flushing pink.
"Kick the bodies under the bed," Valerius clarified, grabbing the assassin's legs and shoving. "You three, get in the bed. Covers up. Look... marital."
"I would rather drink poison," Elara stated.
"You already drank the Soul Link," Valerius reminded her, shoving the second body under the mattress with a grunt. "If I go down for treason, you go down with me. Get in the damn bed!"
The door handle jiggled. "Sire? We are entering!"
In a flurry of silk, fur, and curses, the three most powerful women in the world scrambled onto the mattress. Valerius dove in the middle, pulling the heavy duvet up to their chins just as the door swung open.
Captain Thorne marched in, hand on the hilt of his sword, followed by four armored guards. He stopped dead.
The scene before him was... chaotic.
The Emperor was sitting up, looking disheveled and annoyed. To his left, the Demon Queen was glaring daggers. To his right, the Elf Princess was looking fastidiously at the ceiling. And draped across the foot of the bed, the Beast Chieftainess was growling low in her throat.
"Captain," Valerius said, his voice dropping an octave, channeling every ounce of [Absolute Charisma] he had left. "Is there a reason you are interrupting the consummation of the Peace Treaty?"
Thorne blinked, his eyes darting around the room. He sniffed the air. "I... we heard crashing, Sire. And the smell of..."
"Passion," Vexilla interrupted, her voice husky and terrifying. She leaned against Valerius, her horn scraping his cheek. "Destructive, violent demon passion. Do you have a problem with my cultural customs, little human?"
Thorne paled. He looked at the overturned bookshelf. "The... furniture?"
"She likes to throw things," Valerius said deadpan.
"And the... smell of ozone?" Thorne pressed, suspicious.
"Elven incense," Elara chimed in, improvising badly. "For... fertility."
Rengar, realizing she needed to contribute, simply let out a loud, convincing yawn that displayed all forty-two of her razor-sharp teeth.
Thorne took a step back. The scene was absurd, but technically plausible given who was involved. Moreover, the Emperor was alive. If he pushed further, he risked offending three enemy nations simultaneously.
"I... see," Thorne stammered. "My apologies, Your Majesty. We will... leave you to your... diplomacy."
He bowed stiffly and backed out, closing the door.
The moment the latch clicked, the tension in the bed snapped.
Vexilla shoved Valerius away. "Do not ever touch me again."
"You touched me," Valerius pointed out, throwing the covers off. He slid out of bed and immediately fell to his knees, retching.
The adrenaline was gone. The Soul Link's backlash hit him. He could feel the phantom pain of the poison in the assassins' blood, the bruising on Vexilla's shins, the stress headache of Elara.
"Valerius?" Rengar's voice was surprisingly soft. She hopped off the bed and sniffed him. "Your heart rate is erratic."
"I'm fine," Valerius wheezed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Just... processing the shared trauma of three super-beings."
He looked up at them from the floor. The bodies were still under the bed. The assassin was still loose in the city. Kaelen was still plotting.
"Ladies," Valerius said, forcing himself to stand. "The honeymoon is officially over. We have a corpse to dissect, a traitor to catch, and I need to figure out why a Duke of the Human Realm has access to the magic of dead gods."
He walked to the balcony, staring out at the capital city of Aethelgard. It was a city of lights and celebration, unaware that it was one heartbeat away from annihilation.
"Vexilla," he said without turning. "You have contacts in the Undercity. I need you to find where the black market is selling 'Void Dust'."
"I am a Queen, not an errand girl," she spat.
"You are a Queen who wants to live," Valerius corrected. "Elara, can you trace the magical signature of this 'Divine Poison'?"
Elara hesitated, then nodded slowly. "If I have a sample. But I will need my alchemy kit from the caravan."
"Rengar," Valerius turned to the giantess. "You said the escaped assassin didn't smell right. Can you track him?"
Rengar grinned, a terrifying sight. "I can track a flea on a dragon's back across a hurricane. Give me his blood scent."
"Good." Valerius poured himself another glass of wine, his hand shaking slightly. "Welcome to the Secret Council. First order of business: surviving the night."