Night settled over the Imperial Palace.
Outside Her Imperial Majesty's chambers, Guards stood watch as the doors opened for the Chief Housekeeper and several chambermaids carrying trays.
"The congratulatory letters are to remain on Her Majesty's bedside table," the Chief Housekeeper instructed. "Place the flowers by the windows, and the personal gifts in the display cabinet."
"Yes, Madam."
The attendants dispersed in silence.
Fresh bouquets were arranged in crystal vases. Keepsakes found their places within the cabinet. One chambermaid carefully stacked the sealed letters upon the bedside table, aligning them into a neat pile.
Before long, the chamber was once again immaculate.
"That will be all," the Chief Housekeeper said. "We're leaving."
As the others gathered at the door, one chambermaid glanced toward the bed.
"Madam, there appears to be a little dust beneath the bed."
The Chief Housekeeper looked over. "Very well. See to it."
"Yes, Madam."
The others stepped into the corridor.
The chambermaid knelt beside the bed, brushing lightly at the floor. Hidden by the bedframe, her hand slipped into her sleeve and withdrew a single sealed letter.
With one practiced motion, she slid it beneath the pillow, leaving just enough of its edge exposed to catch the eye.
She rose, gave the bed one final, careful glance, and quietly slipped out to rejoin the others—as though she had done nothing more than brush away a speck of dust.
.
.
.
"She left?" Ray exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief.
Across the table, Rui froze mid-bite—or rather, mid-attempt at a bite. A piece of roast chicken dangled precariously between her lips, clutched only by her front teeth, as though she'd been caught stealing it from the platter.
"Something important must have come up," Grace said with calm certainty, folding her hands neatly on the table. "Otherwise, Aunt Sera would never have left so suddenly."
At that, both Ray and Rui's expressions drooped in perfect unison—two mourners at the funeral of dinner cheer. Rui still hadn't used her hands, letting the poor chicken leg sway slightly as she sighed through her nose.
She tried to speak, but the result was a series of muffled sounds that made Ray blink twice before saying flatly, "I have no idea what you just said."
Rui gave him an indignant stare, then finally tore off a piece of chicken, chewed with exaggerated dignity, and swallowed—all while Ray, Grace, Welfred, and Dasmon watched her as if attending some sacred rite.
Rui finally cleared her throat and spoke again. "Wow," he said, deadpan, still unable to tell what she was saying. "Still can't understand a thing."
Dasmon, who had been quietly observing the gloom gathering over the table, leaned back and spoke with mock injury. "You do realize I'm here too, yes? Six months away and not a single soul missed me—yet one evening without Queen Seraphine, and the world falls apart."
He punctuated his statement by stabbing a small tomato with unnecessary force, as though the fruit were personally responsible for his neglect.
Ray clenched his hands. "You know it's not like that, Uncle," he said earnestly. "We just… wanted to have supper with everyone. Aunt Sera included."
Dasmon's tone softened. "I know. Truly, I do. But she isn't here tonight, so let us not bury our joy in her absence. Eat, laugh, and make merry—for once, with the people who 'are' here."
Ray lowered his gaze, voice quiet. "All right."
His eyes drifted to the empty chair beside him—the one that seemed reserved for Seraphine—before he turned back to his plate, where Rui had resumed her silent battle with the chicken leg.
.
.
.
The grand hall remained filled with the quiet rhythm of the banquet. Nobles dined upon the lavish spread before them, their subdued conversations accompanied by the soft clink of silver against porcelain.
At the central table, Grace, Ray, Welfred, and Dasmon ate in silence, while Rui, with her usual enthusiasm, was already well into her meal.
Beneath the glow of golden chandeliers, more than a hundred banquet tables stretched across the hall, lending the gathering an air of solemn grandeur despite its sheer scale.
.
.
.
The four of them stood a short distance from the entrance to Ray and Rui's room.
"I'm sooo full... now I'm sleepy," Rui mumbled, swaying as she clung to Ray's arm like a drowsy koala..
Ray tightened his grip so she wouldn't topple over, though it looked more like he was trying to stop a toddler from face-planting.
"Just stay awake a little longer," Ray said. "We'll be going to bed soon."
"Hm?" Rui murmured, her eyes barely open. "Did you say something?"
"I know you heard me," Ray said, shooting her a look. "Stop pretending."
"I'm not pretending," Rui replied with a sleepy smile. "I'm just choosing to ignore you."
A muffled chuckle slipped from one of the guards before he quickly disguised it with a cough into his fist. The others lowered their heads, doing their best to keep their composure.
Meanwhile, Grace remained blissfully unaware of the miniature storm of sibling chaos unfolding behind her. Far too absorbed in her conversation with Welfred, she never noticed Ray desperately exercising the patience of a saint as his drowsy little sister seemed determined to melt straight into the floor.
.
.
.
Inside a servant's room, a man sat waiting on the bed. The chamber was small and neatly kept, with plastered walls, a vaulted ceiling, and simple wooden furnishings. A candle burned in a wall sconce, while another rested on the table beside him. His attire, however, marked him as someone of considerably higher rank than an ordinary servant.
The door opened slowly, and a woman slipped inside.
She closed it carefully behind her before approaching the man. Once she reached him, she stopped and gave a small bow.
"Proceed," he said in a low voice.
The woman began, "I was able to place the letter, though... I slipped it beneath a pillow."
"A pillow...?"
She nodded.
"I left one side of it visible, so it would catch the eye instantly."
"Hm," the man murmured after a moment.
"No one saw, right?"
"I made sure of it."
The man placed his hands on his thighs and pushed himself to his feet. "I'll pass on the word, then."
The woman bowed.
He left the room.
A short while later, she followed.
As she made her way down the corridor, a pair of eyes watched her from the side.
Alaric.
He had been spying on them from behind the edge of the wall.
Once she was gone, he turned and leaned against the wall. His eyes narrowed, his mind quietly piecing together what he had just witnessed.