Yuri paced the confines of her assigned guest chamber, the opulent silk drapes doing little to muffle the storm raging in her mind. Stress coiled tight around her chest like a serpent, squeezing with every labored breath—what must she do to shatter the invisible bonds tethering the brothers to Payal? Their father had thrust her into this viper's nest not as a mere ward, but as a precise instrument of division: Yuri is femous for her beauty a lure, her innocence a mask for calculated sabotage. But she didn't know much about Asra and William there was some rare moments when she met them.
She knew Asra only through whispers—his cool detachment and precognitive glimpses making him an enigma—and about William even less, his intuitive powers a shadowy barrier she dared not probe directly.
But Julian,,...? Him,... she understood more intimately than he comprehended himself, their shadowed past as lovers granting her an arsenal of vulnerabilities: shared secrets from fevered nights, the scars of his sadistic edges she alone had tasted and tamed, the jealous rages that mirrored her own manipulative fire."How should I start?" she murmured to her reflection in the gilded mirror, fingers tracing the delicate curve of her neck where faint old passions still lingered like phantom brands.
Last night replayed in torturous detail—the dining table abandoned in disarray, plates cooling untouched amid tense silences. The brothers had unraveled: William vanishing to "fetch" after her conspicuous absence, his green eyes stormy with unspoken warnings; Julian shoving back his chair without a bite, storming off with bloodshot fury, Asra also show back his chair without eating , leaving Yuri isolated with the servants' averted gazes. Something seismic had fractured them—
The air had thickened with supernatural static, She knows their secret, there hints of powers clashing like distant thunder. But Yuri can't just dive in to it she needed intel, a map through their chaos, but direct confrontation risked exposure. Julian was her sole conduit, the weak link whose heart she has a confidance that she could still twist with a whisper or a touch, yet asking outright would shatter her "soft and sweet" facade.She couldn't afford mistakes; their father's ultimatum echoed—succeed in breaking their unity, claim a share of the empire, or face exile into ruin. Yuri's own backstory fueled her desperation: orphaned pawn in high-society intrigues, honed into a seductress by ruthless mentors, now deployed against these royal heirs whose foretold would doom them. Payal, is the only thing that can hold them together, that infuriating wife, stood as the unexpected glue—her quiet endurance and stolen intimacies threatening Yuri's in house. To infiltrate, Yuri needed subtlety: eavesdrop on servants' gossip, stage "accidental" encounters laced with feigned vulnerability, exploit Julian's paranoia over Asra's visions or William's nocturnal vanishings.Decision crystallized— for that she needs to frist head to the morning breakfast table, the nexus of their fragile routine. There, amid clinking silver and steaming platters, she could observe:
Payal's weary eyes looking with affection, the brothers' exchanged glares for fresh rifts, Julian's posture for openings to corner him later. Feign concern over last night's "illness," offer a trembling hand or lingering gaze to reignite old flames,
She can't probe indirectly through questions about Payal's absence or William's abrupt exit. The dining hall's grandeur—crystal chandeliers, mahogany expanse—would mask her calculations, while Yuri's gossamer gown and artfully tousled hair amplified her allure, a siren's call amid the tension.Descending the sweeping staircase, heart pounding with predatory focus, Yuri steeled herself. Servants bowed silently, their whispers hinting at nothing about dramas she expected: Julian holding Payal hand on breakfast table Asra's flour-dusted dawn intrusion, Where is the William he is not here with them.
She would start small— a soft inquiry over tea, eyes wide with faux innocence—then escalate to Julian alone, whispering temptations of their past to extract truths. Break the bond, claim the obsession, watch the empire crumble as she wants. Payal was no match; Yuri's stress morphed into cold resolve, breakfast her first gambit in the deadly game.
The breakfast table buzzed with a deceptive liveliness, silverware chiming against porcelain plates and laughter punctuating the aroma of fresh pastries, spiced omelets, and steaming chai. Sunlight streamed through tall arched windows, gilding the mahogany expanse and casting playful patterns on the crisp linens. Payal sat at the heart of it, deliberately ignoring Yuri as if the woman were a mere shadow on the periphery—her soft-spoken presence at the far end dismissed like an unwelcome ghost. At this fragile juncture, Payal refused to let jealousy or the novel's ominous plot intrude; she savored the rare harmony instead, letting the warmth of the moment wash over her like a balm against yesterday's wounds
.Asra flanked her left, his cool blue hair catching the light as he passed her a plate of golden parathas with a gentle smile, flour still faintly dusting his fingers from his dawn kitchen labors. Julian lounged to her right, closer than propriety demanded, his red eyes softened by morning's mercy as he teased her with a stolen glans , his husky voice murmuring apologies laced with flirtation whispering near her ear. Their knees brushed under the table—a subtle triangle of reconnection, mending the rifts with shared glances and light touches that spoke of last night's tender truce in Julian's room . Servants hovered discreetly, pouring juices and refilling cups, their averted eyes hinting at displain
: William's mysterious vanishing, Julian's midnight carry of Payal, the faint lingering in the air.Yet one absence gnawed at the edges of her joy—William's chair sat conspicuously empty, his absence a void amid the chatter. Payal's brown eyes flicked to Julian, her fork pausing mid-air as concern creased her brow. "Where is William?" she asked softly, her voice cutting through the levity without shattering it, laced with genuine worry. Had his greenish-blue powers summoned him away again, chasing the threats he'd sensed while she slept on his lap? Or was it the fallout from his confrontation with Julian, the accusations of sadistic shadows still simmering unspoken?Julian's amusement faltered briefly, his hand tightening around his teacup as memories flashed—he looked at Yuri the arrival as Father's pawn, William's venomous words to take Payal away if his rage persisted. "He's... handling something," Julian replied evasively, forcing a grin while exchanging a loaded glance with Asra, whose precognitive instincts twitched with unease. Asra nodded subtly, adding, "Probably patrolling the wards. He'll join us soon." Yuri shifted at her end, feigning interest in her fruit while her sharp ears caught every nuance, plotting her next subtle probe into Julian's vulnerabilities. Payal nodded, masking her anxiety with a sip of chai, but the question lingered like a shadow: William's intuitive vanishing threatened to pull him into dangers she couldn't yet fathom.The lively facade held, laughter resuming as Julian regaled them with a light anecdote from his "wilder days," but undercurrents swirled—Payal hoarding the beauty of Asra's steady presence and Julian's reclaimed warmth, even as William's watchfulness hinted at fractures widening. She leaned into the moment defiantly, collecting these jewels of connection before the plot's inexorable hand could snatch them away.