Deep beneath the Spring Palace, in a secret chamber below the Library, Princess Gloria and Isabelle, the Marquise of the Western Border Region of Middenland sat across from one another at the table in the middle of the room.
They were waiting for someone.
"Why is it taking so long?" Gloria complained, her elegant fingers drumming against the table while her foot tapped rapidly beneath it, anxiety did not suit her face, but it was there all the same.
Isabelle slumped forward, chin resting on folded arms. "Who knows? Maybe that dog's spine broke on the way here. You should have sent me instead." she said.
"You would die in sunlight if I did, Grandma." Gloria said, shot her a sideways glance, eyes briefly reflecting the light like polished glass.
Isabelle's blood-red eyes gleamed with amusement. "That is the price of immortality, child. At least I do not suffer from back pain." she replied.
Before Gloria could retort, a violent clang shook the chamber.
The reinforced metallic door reverberated as though struck by a battering ram.
"You damned bat! Open the door!" Wulfgang's voice roared from the other side, thick with fury.
The Princess and the Marquise exchanged a long, tired look.
Isabelle rose, she moved so quickly her figure blurred, crossing the chamber in less than a heartbeat.
Mechanisms within the door ground and clicked as she unsealed it.
Duke Wulfgang of Nordenland stood there, cloak clinging to his shoulders, gray hair plastered against his temples, as his eyes burned with frustration.
"That damned baron! Coward!" he spat.
"The Princess is here," Isabelle replied coldly, leaning one shoulder against the doorway.
"How rude." she continued.
Wulfgang's gaze shifted past her, then froze.
Princess Gloria sat perfectly upright at the table, hands folded neatly before her, expression blank and distant.
The duke's face drained of color, immediately.
"My apologies for my rudeness, Your Highness," he said quickly, bowing his head.
"Just sit down!" Gloria snapped, her voice sharp as shattered glass.
He hurried inside and dropped into his chair, as Isabelle closed the door with deliberate slowness and returned to her seat, a faint smile curving her lips.
Gloria leaned forward slightly.
Her eyes locked onto his.
"Speak." she said coldly.
The single word carried enough authority to make him flinch.
Wulfgang swallowed and began recounting his visit to Vindia.
He described Victor's refusal to march, the argument, the demand, and also his own reaction toward them.
As he spoke, Gloria's face changed.
Her delicate features began to tighten, as her brows drew together.
When he finished, silence filled the chamber.
Isabelle let out a soft, amused laugh.
Gloria said nothing.
The silence stretched.
Wulfgang's breathing grew uneven.
Then—
"Damn you, stupid mutt!!!"
Gloria surged to her feet.
Her hand, wreathed in shimmering mana, struck his face with explosive force.
The impact sent him flying sideways from his chair, crashing hard against the stone floor.
"What are you?!" she demanded, her voice ringing through the chamber.
Wulfgang scrambled onto one knee, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"W.. werewolf… Your Highness…" he sniffled, humiliation thick in his voice.
A tear slid down his weathered cheek.
Her mana-clad hand struck him again, snapping his head sideways.
"What are you?" she repeated, her tone now quiet and freezing.
He trembled.
"S–stupid mutt… Your Highness…"
She looked at him with open disgust.
She stepped forward, raising her hand once more—
Isabelle's fingers closed around her wrist.
"Gloria," the marquise said firmly, her playful tone gone. "Don't be childish like your brother."
The princess exhaled sharply through her nose.
"Tch!"
She lowered her hand and straightened her posture, composure sliding back over her like silk.
"If you do not want your son and daughter to become my fuel," she said coldly, "bring me a child to fuel my magic Now!"
Wulfgang's eyes widened.
He bowed deeply, forehead nearly touching the floor.
"I will find one as quickly as possible, Your Highness."
He hurried out of the chamber, the metallic door sealing behind him with a heavy finality.
Silence returned for a long while, neither woman spoke.
Then Gloria rubbed her temple and sighed.
"Lady Isabelle," she said more calmly, "may I borrow your strength tonight? He have just chased away one of my important pawn like an idiot."
Isabelle smiled faintly. "Gladly, but who will feed me blood then?" she asked.
"Figure it out yourself," Gloria replied flatly. "You are a hundreds years old Vampyr, not an eighty years old werewolf pup like him!"
Isabelle chuckled.
"And how much compromise shall I allow for your pawn?" she asked.
"Give him four weeks and all the funds," Gloria answered. "I will find an excuse to persuade my brother. A couple of children for him might suffice."
Isabelle rose from her seat.
"Very well! Tonight, I shall visit." she said as her body blurred again, dissolving into motion too swift for mortal sight, In an instant, she was gone.
Gloria remained alone in the chamber.
She inhaled slowly.
Then she closed her eyes as mana began to gather around her eyes like an invisible mist.
"Farsight."
She could see anywhere she was before in the past, as long as she paid the price, which was mana supplemented with souls of younglings and maidens alike.
A blurred image slowly formed in her mind.
Her brother, seated in a grand hall, surrounded by nobles who holds conversation him with an eager expressions as plans were being made.
Gloria's lips curled into a slow grin.
"Let us see what you are planning today, dear brother," she whispered.