The soft clinking of cutlery echoed through the lavish dining room, a delicate rhythm against the backdrop of golden-silver furniture gleaming in the afternoon sun.
Ariel and Raymond sat across from each other, quietly eating lunch. The sunlight poured in through the tall windows, casting warm reflections across the polished surfaces.
Ding.
Ariel's phone buzzed. She paused, picked it up, and glanced at the screen.
An article glowed beneath a bold headline:
"The Duchess Dowager of Florence: Adulteress or Victim?"
Ariel arched an eyebrow, intrigued. She tapped the screen and began to read.
'Two days ago, the gossip community was shaken by a scandalous revelation that sent shockwaves through noble circles, when an article supposedly exposing the Duchess Dowager of Florence of being engaged in illicit relationships caused a frenzy. The dowager was called all sorts of names, a whore, an adultress, a vixen, a gold digger, among many others. Her viability in the noble women's court was also questioned, people were so sure that her fall out from grace would result in her being demoted from her title and cast out from the court.
However, the narrative shifted dramatically when new evidence emerged, that she is not actually the shameless perpetrator but actually the victim. The picture was traced back to fifteen years ago—two years before her marriage to the late Duke Alexander Philip Sinclair, and three years after the death of her first husband, Viscount Douglas Morris. According to the report, the man in the picture actually drugged the Duchess Dowager with an aphrodisiac and engaged in the illicit acts with her in order to exploit her and blackmail her into giving him money of the inheritance, which her husband the late Viscount Douglas, left for her and their daughter.'
"I didn't know that's what he wanted…"
A video clip auto-played beneath the article.
Miranda appeared on screen—tearful, disheveled, her clothes slightly distorted, her voice trembling.
"He was my late husband's lawyer." she began, eyes red and swollen. "He invited me to his office, saying he wanted to discuss the inheritance. After a few minutes, he offered me a drink in honor of my husband. I didn't think he would… he would…" Her voice broke. "I passed out. I woke up the next morning in a horrible state. And the bastard had laid the photos on the bed—what he did to me. He threatened to expose them unless I gave him part of the inheritance. It was so horrid… I just can't believe… that after all these years…" She sobbed uncontrollably.
Leticia appeared beside her, wrapping an arm around her mother.
"It's okay, Mother. It's alright." She turned to the camera, her voice firm.
"As you've seen, the memory is too horrific for my mother to relive. That man was a monster. He drugged her, violated her, and tried to extort her. For us, it was a haunting memory—buried and forgotten. But now, because of the person who leaked this article, we're forced to relive it. I'm disgusted by how quickly people judged her, throwing ugly names without knowing the full story. My mother was a victim, not an adulteress. And now that the truth is out, I hope people think twice before hurling accusations. And to the person who shared those photos—prepare yourself. We're going to sue you."
The video ended.
'Further investigations have confirmed the story. The man was arrested fifteen years ago and sentenced to eighteen years in prison. He remains behind bars. Public sentiment has shifted—many now sympathize with the Duchess Dowager and condemn the individual who reignited the trauma. Support for the lawsuit is growing rapidly.'
Ariel tossed her phone aside in frustration and resumed eating, her scowl etched deep across her face.
Raymond noticed the shift in energy and leaned forward slightly.
"Is everything okay?"
Ariel sighed. "Just a minor setback. I expected it, so… it's nothing major."
Raymond nodded, wiping his hands and mouth with deliberate calm.
"I hope it won't interfere with our current plans. I need your full cooperation. If possible, I'd like you to set your revenge plans aside for now. You'll have plenty of time for that—after you become Queen."
Ariel raised an eyebrow.
"And what if I don't become Queen? Huh? What then?"
Raymond exhaled.
"You will become Queen."
Ariel's voice sharpened.
"And what makes you so sure? You've heard the rumors about the Crown Prince. What if he kills me before I'm crowned—or discards me like an unwanted wife? There's nothing more shameful than being an unwanted Queen. No one would respect me. My revenge would mean nothing. My enemies would still hold an upper hand against me."
"You will become Queen!" Raymond's voice rose slightly. " I'll make sure of it. Besides, you are a very beautiful woman, smart, intelligent, brave and strong. I am positive that the Crown Prince will like you and he will choose you at the selection."
He stood and walked toward the window, gazing out at the lush garden. The afternoon sun bathed the damp lawn and rain-kissed flowers in a golden shimmer.
"And if things get complicated," he continued, "win favor with the Queen Dowager. She's dignified, wise, and sharp. She was mentored into royalty by your grandmother, Felistus. She could be your greatest ally for your revenge —and a powerful pillar of support. So make sure to gain her support during the Royal Bride selection season. Starting with the Masquerade ball tomorrow night."
Ariel rose slowly, her gaze following his.
"I'll do what you said. But I just hope… it'll be worth it. For both our sakes."
Raymond turned to her, smiling.
"Thank you. I hope so too."
Ariel returned the smile, then added,
"Alright. Let me go over the plan for the Masquerade Ball—and deal with this mess. It's good to keep your enemies on edge. That way, they never gain leverage."
Raymond nodded.
"I'll see you later," Ariel said, turning and walking away.
....
"Some people are looking for you because of the article. I managed to derail their leads, but I don't think they'll stay away for long. These people are profesh… and I don't think they're from your usual gouls."
The voice crackled through the phone as Ariel stood on the balcony of her room, overlooking the garden below.
"Who do you think they are?" she asked, her tone calm but alert.
"I don't know yet. But I'll find out. What do you want me to do about our dear friends?"
Ariel sighed. "I need you to find the man who was with Miranda in that photo—the real man, not the one they pinned it on. Did you ask Cody to do what we discussed?"
"Yes. He's waiting for your go-ahead. Are we still on for the Palace mission tomorrow?"
"We are. Be on standby in case things go south. Thanks, Ricky. I'll see you when you see me."
She ended the call and exhaled, letting her gaze drift across the garden.
The flowers shimmered like scattered gemstones, catching the sunlight in a magical glimmer. It was breathtaking—yet her mind was far from peace.
Speaking of things that glimmer…
She quickly dialed another number.
The call was picked up after three rings.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sylvia. It's me."
"Good afternoon, Lady Ariel. How's the Kingdom Capital?"
"It's fine. I hope everything's okay back home."
"Yes, all is well, my Lady. No need to worry. I can't wait to see you on television tomorrow at the Masquerade Ball. I'm sure you'll be the most breathtaking person in the room."
Ariel chuckled softly. "Really, Sylvia? Attention is the last thing I need there. But thank you—the dress is beautiful. I can't wait to wear it."
"It was my pleasure, my Lady. I wish you all the best tomorrow."
"Thank you, Sylvia. Actually, I called to ask—did you find it? My necklace?"
Sylvia hesitated.
"Mmm… no. I couldn't find it anywhere. I'm sorry. Maybe you dropped it outside the mansion?"
Ariel's heart sank.
"No… I don't think so. I never take that necklace off—except when I bathe at home. It has to be somewhere in the house… unless…"
Her mind reeled back to that night in the car.
The red-eyed figure.
The mask being ripped off as she tried to escape.
Could he have taken the necklace too?
Her breath caught. That necklace was a gift from her parents on her eighth birthday—precious, unique, hers. Losing it felt like losing a piece of herself.
This is bad. Very bad.
"Miss? My Lady? Are you alright?" Sylvia's voice broke through the silence.
"Yes. Yes, Sylvia. I'm fine. Don't worry. I… I think I know where it might be. But please check one more time. And ask Sammy if he saw me wearing it when he picked me up from the waste pile four nights ago."
"Of course, my Lady. I'll do that and let you know if I find anything."
"Thank you, Sylvia. I truly appreciate it."
"My pleasure, Miss." Sylvia ended the call.
Ariel paced the balcony, her thoughts racing.
If that man has it… I'm doomed.
She could still see those monstrous eyes. That hulking figure. He was not someone who tolerated nonsense. One wrong move, and she could lose everything—including her life.
"Urrgh… what am I going to do?"
She stepped back inside and collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"Oh… my dear, precious necklace. Wherever you are… please come back to me. I beg you." she whispered.
....
As if answering her desperate plea, the necklace shimmered—glowing faintly with an eerie blue light.
But not in Ariel's room.
Elsewhere…
"Interesting."
A voice echoed through a lavish chamber adorned in gold and black. The furniture gleamed under the soft lamplight, casting long shadows across the walls.
At a desk, seated in a high-backed chair, Daniel held the necklace in his palm—its glow pulsing like a heartbeat.
He swirled it slowly, watching the light dance across its surface, his thoughts consumed by the mystery woman who once wore it.
A smirk curled across his lips.
"Looks like your owner isn't an ordinary person … and she must be looking for you."
He lifted the necklace closer to his face, eyes narrowing with intrigue.
"And I…" he whispered, voice low and deliberate, "can't wait for her to find you. We're both anticipating her arrival. And I have a feeling… it won't be long."
He brushed the necklace against his lips, his eyes gleaming with mischief and something darker.
The fire crackled softly in the background.
The search had begun.