The carriage moved through the evening mist, the Douglas emblem engraved in gold upon its doors. The wheels creaked against the cobblestone road as the landscape slipped by—dark, silent, and heavy. Inside, Lusian and his mother, Countess Sofía Douglas, shared the journey back to their family estate.
—What did you discuss with the Queen Mother? —Lusian asked, breaking the silence with restrained curiosity.
—The academy suffered severe damage —Sofía replied, her gaze fixed on the horizon painted in crimson—. Activities will be suspended for a month. We'll use that time to venture into the forest, investigate what drove the beasts mad… and confirm whether the demonic cult is hiding there.
—Are they sending troops? Isn't that too dangerous?
—Yes. All the nobles will send contingents. It will be an unprecedented incursion. If we don't resolve this now, the academy will have to relocate.
—And who will lead our knights?
—Me —she said firmly—. Laurence is busy tracking the kingdom's traitors.
—Mother, it's not safe for you to go into the forest.
Sofía smiled faintly and, with a playful gesture, pinched his cheeks.
—Look who's talking—the boy who puts himself in danger every five minutes.
—Alright, stop —Lusian laughed, gently pulling away—. Then take me with you.
—No! I won't expose you to danger.
—And if I stay? Will you leave Umber with me?
—Of course not. I won't leave you unprotected.
—Then all the more reason I should go. You'll have your three magical beasts in the forest… what place could be safer than at your side?
Sofía raised an eyebrow, amused.
—You flatter me, but I'm not taking you. Larryet and Thunder are enough to keep me safe.
—Mother, I want you to see how much I've grown. Trust me. Let me prove I'm worthy of being your son.
The carriage jolted as it crossed a bridge. Sofía watched him with quiet tenderness and remained silent for a long moment. Finally, she sighed.
—Very well —she conceded—, but you will not leave my side for even a moment… or you'll be punished when we return.
The Oasis Hotel rose like a palace of marble and glass in the heart of the noble district. In one of its private halls, lit by amber lamps, sat Count Noah Armett and his daughter Isabella, alongside Count Tomás Denisse and his son Lorenzo. The air smelled of aged wine and poisoned diplomacy.
—Have you considered my proposal of marriage between your daughter and my son, Count Tomás? —Noah asked, fingers steepled on the table.
—I have —Tomás replied with a polite smile—, but I don't think it will be possible. My daughter has better candidates.
—Much time has passed, and she has yet to choose one. Perhaps they failed to win her heart. My son, on the other hand, could be the perfect match for Miss Isabella.
—There is no rush —Tomás said—. It is better to wait.
Lorenzo stood then, feigning casual ease.
—Father, why not allow me to accompany Miss Isabella for a walk? They can talk while you attend to Count Noah.
Tomás nodded without suspicion. Isabella rose reluctantly and followed him into the inner garden, where the scent of flowers barely masked the heavy air of intrigue.
—Miss Isabella —Lorenzo said, bowing with false courtesy—, you look dazzling today.
—Thank you for your compliments, but they are unnecessary. Let me make it clear—I have no interest in you.
Lorenzo smiled, though inside, rage simmered.
Damn bitch.
—You shouldn't reject opportunities so lightly. Beauty is not eternal… one day, it will fade.
—I will welcome that day gladly, Lord Lorenzo —Isabella replied, unshaken.
At that moment, a well-dressed man approached with confident steps.
—Miss Isabella —he said smoothly—, allow me to introduce a good friend of mine, Elton.
Elton bowed and extended his hand. Isabella, out of courtesy, accepted.
—A pleasure to meet you, miss.
The moment their hands touched, the world faded. Her mind went blank. Her gaze emptied.
—Is it done? —Lorenzo whispered nervously.
—Yes —Elton replied in a rough voice—, but we must hurry. My ability won't last long.
—Then make her write a letter addressed to Caleb Douglas Florence. Use your control for that —Lorenzo ordered, a cruel smile forming.
Minutes passed. When the spell faded, Isabella blinked in confusion. She was seated, her hands stained with ink, her gaze unfocused. Lorenzo feigned concern and leaned toward her.
—Are you feeling better, Miss Isabella? You nearly fainted.
—Faint? No… I don't remember… —she murmured, looking around in confusion.
—Let's return to our parents —Lorenzo said, offering his arm—. They must be worried.
She nodded, unaware of the shadow closing in on her fate. On the table behind them lay the letter, ink still wet, sealed with a name that would soon drag the kingdom into a storm.
Isabella inclined her head slightly, still wrapped in the fog clouding her mind. Her steps were uncertain as she followed Lorenzo back toward the hall where their parents waited. With each breath, it felt as though an invisible mist pressed against her chest, leaving behind the echo of something she had forgotten… something she should never have forgotten.