Thunder rumbled, and lightning split the sky in jagged flashes, illuminating the heavens with their beautiful, electric threads. Rain poured in torrents. The monsoon still raged across the land, showing no signs of relenting.
In a dark alley, a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up—its presence ominous and unmistakably shady.
Whatever it was doing there, it reeked of dirty business.
Another car was already parked along the alley wall. The black vehicle rolled up beside it until their back windows aligned perfectly.
Moments later, both windows slid down. Two figures sat inside—one in each car.
Their presence radiated mischief and scheming.
"When I asked you to meet me, I didn't expect it to be in this filthy, pathetic alley in the middle of a raging storm," complained the figure in the newly arrived car.
"My outfit is very expensive, you know. I'd hate for it to get wet."
The figure in the other car snorted.
"So what? You wanted us to meet at a fancy restaurant? Where everyone would recognize us? What is it you needed to see me for? Is it really that urgent? If not, don't blame me for getting cruel and throwing you to the wolves. I don't like having my time wasted."
"Don't worry. I don't make empty requests," the first figure replied, quickly handing over a tablet.
The other figure took it, eyeing it with suspicion.
"What is this? A bomb?" they asked sarcastically.
"You'll see. It's much better than a bomb."
The figure tapped the screen. A video began to play.
Their eyes widened in disbelief.
"Oh... oh... yes... yes... oh..."
Moans echoed through the space as the video played, revealing none other than Lady Susan—Lord Alberto's wife and the King's brother's consort—entangled in an act of betrayal with an unknown man. His identity remained hidden, his back turned to the camera.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha."
The figure burst into hysterical laughter.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! This is just too perfect. How did you get your hands on this masterpiece? I have to know."
The figure in the other car simply smiled.
"I'm afraid that's my little secret. So... are you satisfied with my gift?"
The other figure powered off the tablet, eyes still gleaming.
"Mmm... that depends. What do you want in return? To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Nothing much. Just a special request," came the reply.
"A request, huh? Directed at whom?"
"The Queen Dowager. I want to get my hands on a little something. And since you have the privilege of being in her audience so often—and she trusts you—I thought it wise to make a wager with you. After all, blood ties can be quite useful... especially when they serve our interests."
The other figure chuckled darkly.
"Mmm... I've longed to shatter the perfect harmony of that family. Especially the Queen Dowager. She's treated me like a fool for years—always underestimating my influence. But now, with this in my hands, I can stir up a little chaos... just to see how it feels."
A pause.
"I must say, I'm glad to have such a cunning and scheming niece. Since we've agreed to this wager... I'll see what I can do. Just keep your reins tight on that husband of yours. That way, victory will be all the sweeter—for both of us."
"Don't worry. I've already shown him I'm not someone to be trifled with. Now, the only thing left is to get our hands on those Blue Diamond Roses—and then, we can finally conquer the world," the figure said.
"Mmm... indeed. But make sure that girl gets into the Bridal Selection. I'll be keeping an eye on her myself, ensuring she gains favor with the Queen Dowager and is chosen as Crown Princess. With her as Queen, our path to world dominance will be unstoppable," said the other figure.
"But what about that dead bitch—Anastasia's ghost? It's obvious the Queen Dowager wants her to be Queen. What are we going to do about that?"
"Don't worry about her. I'll handle it. You just focus on preparing the girl. She must meet our expectations. She has to become Queen, no matter what. So make sure she's ready—ready to tame the beast."
"Understood," the figure replied.
Just then, the other car's engine roared to life.
"Ah... I almost forgot," the figure in the running car mused.
"Did you take care of the bastard your mother was whoring with before she married Sinclair? That's one loose end we can't afford. He knows too much. He could ruin everything."
"Don't worry. He died as expected. The bomb went off in the middle of the ocean. His body's already in the bellies of fish. He won't be a problem."
"Good. Expect your request to be fulfilled soon. I'll be in touch," said the figure in the running car.
With those final words, the vehicle pulled away, disappearing into the storm—leaving the other figure alone in the shadows.
Inside the remaining car, the figure switched on the interior light, revealing a woman in a fiery red dress—equal parts provocative and commanding. Her makeup was bold, with striking red lipstick, and her wavy black hair was styled neatly beneath a red hat adorned with a delicate veil.
Leticia smiled, remembering the day she was humiliated at the palace—when the Queen mistook her and Aaron for the Queen Dowager's special guests.
Before being ushered into the receiving room by Prince Eric, she had asked to use the restroom.
On her way, she noticed a servant acting suspiciously.
He would walk a few steps, then stop and glance around nervously, as if checking whether he was being watched.
Leticia followed him at a distance and saw him pause near a room, then discreetly drop a black flash drive near the inner corner of the door before walking away.
She waited until he was out of sight, then approached the door, picked up the flash drive, examined it briefly, and slipped it into her pocket before walking away.
Little did she know, the contents were deeply disturbing—beautifully disturbing. And now, that flash drive had become her golden ticket. Her key to the treasure hidden within the royal archives.
Soon, she would lay her hands on the most sought-after prize in the kingdom—and become the most powerful person in the world.
Leticia smirked at the thought, then instructed the driver to move.
The engine roared to life. The car turned and exited the alley.
Thunder cracked. Lightning flashed, illuminating the narrow passage one last time before the vehicle disappeared into the stormy night.
Out of sight.
...
Meanwhile
"Mmm... no... no..."
Ariel murmured, tossing from side to side on the bed.
Her beautiful face glistened with sweat, twisted into a grimace as she writhed beneath the sheets—clearly trapped in a nightmare.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha."
Laughter echoed inside her mind.
In her dream, she stood in the center of a grand room—the Sinclair mansion's ballroom. The very place where she had once been crowned Duchess of Florence.
She was chained to the floor.
Wearing her succession gown, now soaked in blood. Gory wounds marred her flesh, and crimson rivers gushed from her body, saturating the fabric and pooling beneath her.
Surrounding her in a cruel circle stood Aaron, Marinda, Duke Andrew Dinkley, Duchess Catherine, her aunt Gabriella, and Count Vincent. They laughed at her—hysterically, darkly, mercilessly.
"No... no... stop... stop... stop!" she screamed, her voice cracking with anguish.
Then, beyond the circle, she saw it.
Her blood flowed across the marble floor, snaking toward a mountainous pile of Blue Diamond Roses. Atop the pile sat Leticia, lounging lazily on a throne. Her head was adorned with the sacred Crown of the Duchess of Florence. The scepter rested in her hand.
But what made Ariel's blood run cold was the object nestled in Leticia's lap: a blue-and-gold velvet chest, inscribed with the words The Sinclair Records.
Beside Leticia stood Ariel's half-brother, Nathan. In his hands were photographs—of her grandmother Felistus, her mother, and her father. A furnace burned beside him.
He looked at Ariel and smiled wickedly.
Then, without hesitation, he tossed the photographs into the flames.
Ariel's fury ignited.
Her body trembled. Her blood boiled.
"How dare you!" she roared.
"How dare you!!"
Suddenly, her hair turned a brilliant, unnatural blue. Her eyes glowed with a dark, searing light.
The Blue Diamond Roses began to ignite—each one bursting into blue flames like spectral fireballs.
"Aaaah!" Ariel screamed as the roses exploded violently, engulfing the ballroom in a storm of blue fire.
RUMBLE!!
"Hugh!!!"
Ariel gasped, jolting upright from her nightmare.
She clutched her chest, her heart pounding like a war drum.
Turning toward the window, she saw lightning flash across the sky, thunder roaring with fury as rain poured in relentless torrents.
She inhaled deeply, trying to steady her breath.
But the dream lingered.
Her enemies—laughing, mocking, circling her like those vicious, malicious, crows.
And then... the chest. Nestled in Leticia's lap.
That was what unsettled her most.
Leticia had somehow gotten her hands on the chest from the royal archives. And with it, the key to the Blue Diamond Roses.
Her.
Her blood was the key to the vault.
Only hers.
No one else's.
According to her great-grandfather's letter—discovered in the Royal Archives—only the true successor could inherit the ability to locate the Blue Diamond Roses. And there was more. A deeper secret. A sacred one. A power granted only if the heir was deemed worthy by the Heavens themselves.
The letter claimed this secret was recorded in a journal—likely hidden within that very chest.
But it came with a warning: if the secret were ever discovered, it could destabilize the Sinclair family... and the entire fief. In the wrong hands, it could be twisted, weaponized, and used to further wicked schemes.
It had to be protected. At all costs.
Ariel exhaled and sank back onto her pillow, staring up at the ceiling of her room in Lisboa.
They had arrived just hours before the storm broke over the island.
'I have to get my hands on that chest before the Selection. No way in hell am I letting those bastards uncover whatever secret lies inside. Not while I'm still breathing. I'll find it. I'll guard it with my life if I must. And I'll make sure every single one of them pays—for what they did to me. For what they did to my family. I'll make them pay. No matter what.'
She clenched her fists as she stared at the storm raging outside.
But had she turned her head toward the vanity mirror, she would have seen it:
Strands of her hair glowing a brilliant blue—just for a moment—before fading back to their usual fiery red.
....
Meanwhile...
Daniel sat in his bedroom chair, a red robe lazily draped around his body.
His torso glistened in the dim light, his honeydew eyes glowing as they remained fixed on the blue flames dancing before him.
He had been jolted awake by a sudden flash of blue light that lit up the room—only to find the necklace of his mystery woman burning with an ethereal blue fire.
He'd tried to extinguish it with water, but to his shock, the water froze into solid ice the moment it touched the flame.
He stared, bewildered, as he touched the frozen popsicle.
Then he reached toward the flame—but unlike the water, his hand was nearly scorched by the heat.
So he leaned back in his chair, watching the flames burn until they slowly faded away.
When they were gone, he reached out again, expecting the necklace to be searing hot.
But to his surprise, it was cool to the touch—as if it had never burned at all.
He picked it up, letting it dance between his fingers, examining it closely.
"You're no ordinary thing, are you..." he whispered.
Suddenly, an image flashed in his mind.
A vision.
A person in a male servant's uniform, a name tag reading Bailey, the necklace resting around their neck. The face was hidden—shrouded in shadow.
Daniel slowly opened his eyes and smiled.
"So now you're showing me your owner. Tsk... I guess it's time I finally got my hands on her. And don't worry..."
His voice dropped to a murmur.
"I'll make your reunion... very... special."
His smile widened.
And for a moment, his eyes flashed a deep, unnatural crimson—before returning to their usual glow.
He couldn't wait.