⚠️ Content Warning:
This scene contains abduction, physical violence, threats, and psychological intimidation, which may be distressing to some readers. It also explores dark obsessive behavior and implied off-screen torture. Reader discretion is advised.
The next morning arrived, and the palace was in disarray.
Whispers ran like wildfire through the corridors. A noble guest had vanished overnight — Lord Victor Dair, last seen in his quarters with a wine glass in hand and arrogance on his breath.
His room was untouched. His belongings remained — travel bags, letters, even his boots by the hearth. But the man himself had disappeared without a trace.
Servants scrambled through the halls, searching every corner, cellar, and courtyard. No signs of forced entry. No broken glass. Not even a trail of footprints to follow. It was as if he had been swallowed whole by the palace walls.
Which, in fact, he was.
Somewhere far beneath the polished floors and grandeur of the palace, a cell was anything but quiet.
In it, Victor Dair screamed — hoarse, furious, desperate — his wrists chained above his head, his voice echoing uselessly against cold stone.
But just as Caelan had whispered with quiet conviction before disappearing into the dark:
No one could hear him.
And no one ever would.
◇◇◇◇
Caelan stirred awake at the sound of a knock.
She blinked against the early light filtering through the curtains, adjusting to the silence broken only by Lucian's soft breathing against her side. The boy clung to her still, arms wrapped securely around her waist, his head tucked beneath her chin.
"Come in," she called, voice low but firm.
The door creaked open and a servant stepped in — pale, breathless, and clearly shaken.
"Sir Grey," the servant began quickly, bowing his head. "Forgive the intrusion, but… have you seen Lord Victor Dair at any point last night?"
Caelan furrowed her brows, feigning confusion as she sat up straighter, careful not to disturb Lucian too much.
"Lord Dair?" she repeated. "Aside from the court meeting yesterday, no. Why? Has something happened?"
The servant swallowed hard, shifting nervously. "He's believed to have gone missing. His belongings are still in his guest room, but the bed wasn't slept in… and no one has seen him since the gathering ended."
A pause.
Caelan's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "That's… troubling. Have you alerted the guards?"
"Yes, sir," the servant nodded, "They're searching the entire palace. Every wing. Every hallway."
Caelan hummed, resting a hand gently atop Lucian's head. "I see. Well, if I hear anything, I'll let you know."
"Of course." The servant bowed and quickly excused himself, leaving the room in tense silence once more.
Caelan didn't move.
She simply looked ahead — calm, composed — a slow smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Because while the palace searched in chaos above...
She already knew exactly where he was.
Lucian stirred, blinking blearily as he lifted his head from Caelan's side. His voice was soft, still thick with sleep.
"Father…?"
He rubbed his eyes. "Did something happen?"
Caelan looked down at him and offered a warm, reassuring smile. Her hand moved to gently ruffle his hair, smoothing it back with a quiet tenderness.
"Nothing much," she murmured. "Just a noble causing a bit of trouble, that's all."
Lucian sat up slowly, concern flickering across his delicate features. But Caelan leaned in before he could speak further, brushing a kiss against his forehead.
"How about you go have breakfast, hm?" she said softly. "Stay with Arin and Ryeon while I help with the search. I won't be long."
Lucian gave a sleepy nod, still half-draped in blankets, his small hand holding onto hers for just a moment longer before letting go.
Lucian slid out of bed first, still rubbing sleep from his magenta eyes. Caelan rose behind him, her movements quiet and practiced. She poured water into the basin, dipped a cloth, and gently washed his face. He blinked up at her but said nothing—just leaned into the familiar touch.
She helped him into a soft linen tunic and matching trousers, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders. Then she knelt to lace his boots, pulling each loop tight. His hair, still tousled from sleep, was carefully combed and tied back with a simple ribbon.
Once everything was in place, she gave his arm a small pat. "Go find Arin and Ryeon. Stay with them."
Lucian nodded and padded out of the room without another word.
The door closed behind him. Silence returned.
Caelan didn't waste a moment. She crossed to the far wall, to a part of the stone others would overlook. Her fingers traced the faint seam, pressed, and the hidden passage opened with a soft click.
She slipped inside without hesitation.
Beneath the palace—beneath the anxious servants, the nervous guards, and the polished morning light—she descended once more.
◇◇◇◇
Lord Dair sagged against the wall, his breath ragged, wrists blistered from the iron cuffs. His voice had long since given out—shredded by his own screams.
From the shadows, her voice came again—level, cool, unbothered.
"Well, well, well. Looks like you caused more trouble than I needed."
He looked up in dread as Caelan stepped into the light, expression unreadable, torchlight glinting off the dull red in her eyes.
"So," she said, kneeling before the lock on his chains, "you're going to fix the problem you caused."
With a quiet click, the shackles unlocked and fell to the floor.
It was a mistake to assume she'd made a mistake.
The moment his hands were free, he lunged at her—bloodied hands aiming for her throat.
But Caelan didn't flinch.
With one fluid movement, she stepped aside and drove her fist into his gut.
He dropped.
Before he could recover, her knee collided with his face. Bone cracked. Blood smeared the stone floor.
"Try that again," she said, crouching beside him, voice like ice. "And I'll feed you your own fingers."
She tossed a rolled parchment onto the floor in front of him. A quill. A small bottle of ink.
"Write. As I tell you."
When he didn't move fast enough, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back.
"Now."
Hands shaking, blood dripping from his nose, Lord Dair dipped the quill and began to write.
-----
To the Esteemed Members of His Majesty's Court,
I regret to inform you that I have received urgent notice regarding a private matter requiring my immediate attention. Due to the sensitive nature and time constraints, I was forced to depart without delay.
I humbly request that my belongings be sent to my estate at once, and that it be cared for in my absence.
I trust the matter shall be resolved swiftly and that I will return to fulfill my duties in due time.
With respect,
Lord Victor Dair
-----
Caelan leaned over his shoulder, reading it silently.
Then she took the parchment, and rolled it carefully.
"Good," she said coldly. "You've done your part."
He slumped forward in exhaustion.
"Now," she added, standing, "let's make sure no one wonders why you disappeared without notice."
He flinched.
But she didn't hit him this time. Instead she just chained his wrists again and left as if she was never there.