Aldo POV:
Aldo stood near one of the tall pillars that lined the great hall, half hidden in its shadow.
The music flowed softly through the chamber while nobles laughed and spoke in low voices, their goblets raised high with blood wine.
He had not touched a drop.
Nor had he eaten.
His sharp gaze moved slowly across the room, studying each noble face with quiet calculation.
Across the hall, the former allies of Hivites mingled politely, but Aldo saw through it easily. Their smiles were strained. Their laughter forced.
Cowards.
He watched them with a faint sneer, his dark eyes daring them silently.
Break your word openly if you must, his expression seemed to say. At least have the courage for it.
But none of them would.
They hid behind manners and titles.
A voice beside him broke his thoughts.
"My lord," came the smooth, amused tone.
Lord Cain.
The dwarf lord leaned comfortably against a nearby table, golden hair shining under the candlelight. At his side stood two beautiful escorts draped in jewels and little else.
Cain lifted a goblet toward him.
"You have stood here for quite some time without drinking," he said pleasantly. "A ball is meant for enjoyment."
Aldo did not even turn his head.
"I am enjoying myself."
Cain chuckled softly.
"I find that difficult to believe."
The man did not leave.
Aldo's fingers twitched slightly at his side.
For a brief moment, a dark thought crossed his mind.
It would be very easy to freeze the man where he stood, encase him in ice from throat to toe.
But that would cause a scene.
And Cain was not weak, despite the foolish mask he wore.
No.
The man's foolishness was only a facade.
Aldo finally turned his head slightly.
"If you are looking for conversation, my lord," he said flatly, "you will find better company elsewhere."
Cain only smiled wider.
"How cold."
Aldo ignored him completely after that.
His eyes wandered across the hall until they settled upon the throne.
Anne sat boldly upon King Isis's lap, speaking to him as though she had known him for years. The court around them whispered endlessly at the scandal of it.
Aldo watched the scene in silence.
He wondered briefly what Dalia had been thinking when she sent Anne with him.
The woman broke every rule of court.
But then again…
Dalia had always trusted her instincts more than anyone else's.
And Aldo had long ago learned something important.
He could never win an argument with her.
Not that he truly wished to.
A faint smile touched his lips.
He loved her far too much to fight her over such matters.
And besides…
His gaze returned to the throne again.
It seemed the half-blood girl was doing an excellent job.
The king was completely distracted.
Exactly as Dalia intended.
Behind him, Cain was still talking.
Aldo did not bother listening.
Aldo let Lord Cain's voice fade into the noise of the hall.
Without another word, he straightened and stepped away from the pillar.
"My lord?" Cain called lightly after him.
But Aldo did not stop.
The mage moved through the crowd with quiet purpose, his sharp eyes settling upon a man standing near the far side of the hall.
The King of Shem.
The man stood stiffly among a small circle of nobles, a goblet in his hand that he had barely touched. His shoulders were straight, his crown perfectly placed, but there was a tightness to his jaw that no royal training could hide.
Aldo approached calmly.
The nobles around the king shifted slightly as he drew near, sensing the weight of his presence.
"Your Majesty," Aldo said smoothly, inclining his head just enough to be respectful.
The King of Shem turned toward him.
For a brief moment, something dark flickered in the king's eyes.
Hatred.
Fear.
Helpless rage.
But it vanished quickly behind a practiced royal smile.
"Ah," the king said evenly. "The mage from Hittities."
Aldo's lips curved faintly.
"I trust you are enjoying the hospitality of Hivites."
The king's fingers tightened slightly around his goblet.
"It is… a remarkable gathering."
Aldo studied him carefully.
The man played his part well.
But Aldo could hear it.
The king's heartbeat.
Fast.
Uneven.
Not the calm pulse of a ruler enjoying a feast.
The pulse of a father whose only son was somewhere far away… in another queen's grasp.
Aldo leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice just enough that the nearby nobles could not hear.
"I trust," he murmured, "that our agreement remains… unchanged."
The king did not answer immediately.
His jaw tightened for a fraction of a second.
Then he lifted his goblet slightly.
"Shem," he said slowly, "always honors its commitments."
The words were steady.
But the king did not meet Aldo's eyes when he spoke them.
Aldo smiled faintly.
Good.
Fear was a powerful thing.
Across the hall, music continued and laughter filled the air, the ball glittering with false joy.
But Aldo knew the truth.
This room was full of broken alliances and silent threats.
And tonight…
Hivites stood alone.
***
Sapphire clutched the shawl tightly around her shoulders as the snow continued to fall.
Cold wind brushed against her face, making the loose strands of her thick dark hair whip around her cheeks. She rubbed her hands together quickly, trying to bring warmth back into her fingers as she hurried along the quiet road.
She should have known.
Trouble always followed nights like this.
Ahead of her, the royal palace rose from the snow like a sleeping giant, its tall towers dark against the winter sky.
At first glance, anyone passing through the city would think the palace was silent for the night. The windows were dim, the gates still, and the snow lay undisturbed along the outer walls.
But Sapphire knew better than to let appearances fool her.
Somewhere inside those walls, a gathering was taking place, one important enough that Lord Typhon himself had left his manor for it.
And Eugene had trusted her to find him.
She tightened her shawl again and began moving toward the palace gates.
Two palace guards stood there like statues carved from stone. Their dark armor gleamed faintly under the torchlight, crimson cloaks falling heavily behind them. Neither moved as she approached.
But their eyes followed her.
Sharp.
Unblinking.
Sapphire stopped a few steps away, suddenly aware of how small she must look standing before them.
"I… I need to speak with Lord Typhon," she said quickly. "It's important."
The guards did not react.
One of them finally spoke, his voice flat and cold.
"No one enters."
"It's urgent," Sapphire insisted, gripping her shawl tighter. "Please. Just tell him Sapphire is here. He'll understand."
The second guard's lip curled slightly.
"Lord Typhon is with the king."
His gaze swept over her simple clothing with open disapproval.
"This gathering is not for you."
Sapphire's heart pounded.
"I know, but—"
"Leave."
The word cracked through the cold air like a whip.
The guards had not moved an inch, yet their presence suddenly felt enormous. Oppressive.
For a brief moment, Sapphire hesitated.
Then she made a decision.
She stepped back slowly, lowering her gaze as if accepting defeat.
"Fine," she muttered.
The guards' attention shifted away from her.
That was the moment she ran.
Sapphire darted toward the side of the courtyard, boots slipping slightly on the snow as she sprinted along the palace wall.
"Stop!"
One of the guards shouted immediately.
But Sapphire had already spotted a narrow servant passage where a door had been left slightly open.
She slipped inside just as heavy footsteps thundered behind her.
The warmth of the palace hit her instantly.
Golden torchlight flickered along the stone corridor, painting the walls with dancing shadows. Rich carpets lined the floor, muffling her hurried steps as she rushed deeper into the halls.
Her heart hammered wildly in her chest.
She had done it.
But she had no idea where she was going.
Voices echoed somewhere in the distance. Soft music drifted faintly through the palace, carried by the warm air.
The ball.
Sapphire slowed slightly as she turned down another corridor.
Then she heard something else.
Low voices.
Close.
Just ahead, a door stood slightly open, warm light spilling into the hallway.
Inside, she could hear people talking.
Sapphire pressed herself against the wall, breathing quietly.
If she was lucky…
Someone inside might know where Lord Typhon was.
Or worse.
She had just stumbled into the wrong room entirely.