"It's not my fault…" with a broken voice, the words keep echoing against the walls of the "saint's" room, one of the three queens of the Imperial Academy of Demor.
"It's not my fault."
"It isn't."
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!"
"Yes, it is," a response suddenly rang out.
Lisbeth stopped dead in her tracks. She slowly pulled the sheets off herself with hesitant movements and looked at the person who had spoken. It was someone she knew.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in?"
Cassian walked over to a sofa in the room and sat down calmly, not answering right away. Lisbeth's eyes followed him; it seemed like she wanted to make a comment or urge him to explain, but silence and doubt won out.
Once seated, with his legs crossed, he directed his gaze toward her and, in a flat voice, replied:
"Does it matter? It seems what matters most to you right now is what's happening outside. I suppose you're aware of what caused it."
Lisbeth lowered her eyes and began fiddling with her hands, restless.
"And what would you know…?" she muttered through her teeth. She raised her gaze with fury. "You act like you know everything. And you appear out of nowhere for what? You're nobody, just the son of a count who doesn't even deserve the title, and yet you come here to blame me?"
Cassian didn't react.
"You were the one talking about blame. I only gave my opinion."
Lisbeth clenched her fist, her fury collapsing into helplessness.
"Did you know? That day you were looking with contempt? If you knew, why didn't you stop it?"
"I have other plans… and I'm here to find out if you're part of them."
The woman froze, staring at the figure of this man she was truly beginning to know.
"Plans… what plans?"
"Are you going to die with your family? Or do you want to start living your own life?"
…
Belthor and Zarian didn't move.
The shadows also showed no sign of starting an attack.
The two surrounded men looked at each other, and the stronger one finally took a step forward.
"Who are you? I don't know why you're protecting those two women, but…" Belthor clenched his fist; the earth around them began to tremble and cracks formed in it. "Don't think numbers mean much," he finished arrogantly.
The shadows remained silent, not moving an inch despite the unstable ground. They were already prepared to be cannon fodder; if one died or all of them died, it didn't matter. In their minds, there was only completing their mission and serving their lord.
Belthor frowned.
"Tsk, the worst kind of trash," he muttered, but a bad feeling began to grow inside him.
"Zarian," Belthor called in a serious voice, "let's finish this quickly and leave Demor."
The one who received the words looked at his companion's rigid posture, then at the two women—one noticeably exhausted and the other looking at the figures that had appeared with relief—and finally turned his gaze toward the Transcendents surrounding them.
He let out a sigh.
"It's easy to say… but it doesn't look like we can finish this quickly…"
…
In the Empress's chambers.
Caelia watched the chaos in the capital with a playful smile, sitting by a large window with a glass of wine in her hand.
Click.
The soft sound of a door opening echoed in the room. The Empress's smile widened.
"Mother…" a hoarse voice was heard.
Caelia didn't turn around; she played with the liquid in her glass and replied:
"Mmm."
Leonardo's eyes darkened.
"I didn't want to believe it, you know?" He took a step forward, entering deeper into the room and approaching his mother.
"Oh? What are you talking about?"
"Are you going to keep pretending? Why?" The man's voice broke, but he continued asking: "Why? You've spoiled me since I was born. What changed?"
"Leonardo…" She paused; a hint of doubt crossed her gaze for a moment. She stood up, set the glass on a small table beside her, and finally looked at the man who had entered her room. With a soft smile, she approached him, raised her hand, and caressed her biological son's cheek. "How you've grown… You were always my favorite. No one could take that place from you…"
The crown prince tensed. Hearing his mother say those words left him unsure of what to think; he had come determined, but his resolve was beginning to waver under Caelia's caresses.
As if she could see his inner struggle, her smile deepened.
"So big… Getting better at chess, but still unable to beat me. Handling political matters and expanding your power, making deals with the Vitalis and the Valois… But still falling so easily into delusion and addiction."
Leonardo fixed his eyes on his mother as she finished speaking, incredulous. The caress that had previously warmed his heart suddenly turned cold; he bit his lip and brusquely pushed her hand away. His eyes turned red with fury, but then he stopped and began to laugh.
"Hahahahaha! Always the same. To you I'll never be better than you, to you I'll never be enough… But whatever you want with Elara won't work, mother," he dragged out the last word with hatred. "I will be the one to ascend to the throne, and you… you'll be lucky if I visit you in the pigsty I'm going to send you to." A cruel and distorted smile formed on his face as he said those words.
"So sure of yourself… and this is exactly why I abandoned you."
Leonardo frowned and raised his fist, wanting to hit her. Caelia raised an eyebrow, remaining calm and waiting for the impact. But it never came. Leonardo tried to lower his fist, but his body remained stiff, frozen in the air.
"Looks like I arrived at a good moment," Cassian's voice sounded amused, and Caelia's response followed quickly.
"My dear son!" she exclaimed as she jumped in place, making her breasts bounce with excitement, and began walking over to stand beside him.
Leonardo couldn't turn around to see who his mother was referring to; his eyes began to fill with blood, helpless and unable to release his anger.
Cassian gave a glance at the back of the man he didn't really know much about.
His eyes were cold, apathetic.
Then he shifted his gaze toward Caelia, who was wearing a delicate and seductive satin dress; she looked at him with repressed desire, and at the same time as if expecting a reward or words of recognition.
"You did well."
"Really?" Caelia began running her fingers over Cassian's suit. "How well?"
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, knowing the answer she would like to hear:
"Very well, mommy~."
The Empress grabbed his tie tightly and pulled him to face her, forehead to forehead, while a lascivious smile grew on her face.
He took her by the neck and closed the distance in a kiss.
The sound of tongues and saliva being exchanged began to echo in the room.
Leonardo, who couldn't see what was happening behind his back, frowned in confusion; between someone calling his MOTHER "mother" and now it seeming like they were doing something she had never done with him… If he could move his body, it was very possible his hands would be bleeding from how hard he was clenching them.
"Who are you…! Don't touch my mother! She… she… she's mine," a very soft voice was heard, almost inaudible.
But they acted as if they hadn't heard him. She guided Cassian toward a sofa so he would sit down and could position herself on top of him, enjoying the kiss and his attention.
"Mommy missed you, she worked very hard for you… She deserves a reward, don't you think?"
Cassian held Caelia's waist, giving her soft massages. Instead of answering, his hand began to rise until it reached her breasts, pinching her nipple hard over her clothes.
"Ahng~!"
"I see…" Cassian stopped as he felt the wetness that was even soaking through his own pants, coming from Caelia's intimacy.
But before that… his eyes passed over Caelia and fixed on the other man in the room. "Shall we finish that matter first?"