Amidst the deafening silence of the loud chaos, there was another group of people who remained surprisingly laid back.
"Ah, I knew he'd come back since you left him there, Princess!" Effie laughed, her voice booking over the panicked whispers of nearby socialites. She was still shoving the entire buffet into her mouth with impressive speed, elbowing Nephis in the ribs. "He was always quite persistent for as long as I knew him. Too bad for him that she's grown some serious claws."
"Perhaps." The blank stare of Changing Star was as stoic as ever, yet her grey eyes were fixed intently on the Princesses of Song at the far end of the ballroom. There was a flicker of something in her gaze — suprise? No... calculation, as if it was an expected outcome — as she watched Asteria stand among the wreckage of her own debut.
Kai, meanwhile, was oblivious to his friends' chilling calmness. He was pacing a small circle of marble, his face pale. "How are you all so casual? She was nearly killed! That was Caster! He's supposed to be–"
"Dead? Gone? Irrelevant?" Sunless cut in, his voice dripping with a familiar cynicism. He stood leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, watching the headless corpse with a look of profound boredom. He had been the only one to snort when Caster's strikes missed, though whether he was kicking Caster's incompetence or lamenting Asteria's survival was a secret he buried.
High above, unnoticed by all, another person — another being — perched on the ornate molding.
A singular fly.
Its multifaceted eyes took in every detail of the carnage, the blood on the onyx dress, and the subtle, shivering change in the Queen of Nightmare's presence.
***
Somewhere in the distance, within a chamber draped on shadow and silk....
"Vale... you've never been good at handling your people, especially not with that flaw of yours." A puppet sighed, its cold and dead lips curving into a wry, artificial smile. "I wonder how you'll deal with this mess."
***
The pressure in Asteria's chest finally stabilised. The searing heat of her evolution... growth — the formation of her Demon core — settled into her soul. She forced her lungs to expand, her breathing evening out even as her mind reeled from shock, horror and ecstasy of newfound strength.
"Asteria!" Seishan was there in a heartbeat. Her grey skin was flushed with a rare heat, her scarlet lips pressed into a thin and worried line. She gripped Asteria's shoulders, her touch firm, grounding and oddly comforting. "You went down hard. Poison? Did that bastard's blade do anything to you?"
"I'm fine, Seishan," Asteria rasped. She kept her eyes lowered, making sure the mild rampant essence she felt within her head wasn't noticed through her glass eyes. She wouldn't speak of gwr third core; to the world, humans were born and died with a single soul core — if you were an Awakened that is — even more so if you're like Asteria who possessed three.
'I don't feel like being a lab rat either... ' Asteria lampooned, her own lips tugging upwards to a small smile.
"Just... a bit delayed and delerious. Maybe I shouldn't have drank as much wine as I did? Tactical suicide if you ask me..."
"A tactical error?" Lonesome Howl let out a sharp, barking laugh as she strode over, her tan arms flexing as she looked down as Caster's remains. "Sister, you just executed a vassal of Valor in front of the government and their own representatives. If that's a bad day for you, I want to see you when you're actually motivated to do something."
"She's right," Eunbin added, the tantalising and regal Beastmaster's face softened with genuine amusement. She smoothed her carmine dress, her dark eyes scanning the room. "You handled it well... let's call it your own special kind of elegance. Mother will be quite pleased with the messaging even if the carpet is ruined."
"The messaging is the whole problem!" Moonveil whisperer, her hair shimmering like frost as she surveyed the weeping and frantic guests. "Look at them,. This is going to be a political nightmare."
"Nonsense." Seishan smiekred, helping Asteria brush dust off her shimmering gown. "It's the first party we've held in years that wasn't a total bore. Though, Asteria, next time you try to stage a public assassination, try not to do it so close to the wine — it's far too expensive to be seasoned with filth like him."
Asteria looked at her sisters, their lighthearted ribbing acting as a strange, necessary anchor. She was barely known to them, yet here she was, being teased by Saints. "I'll try to schedule my next assassination for the after-party," she joked weakly, leaning slightly into Seishan for support.
"Good," Revel said, her oppressive, dark aura finally retreating as she dismissed her curved tachi. Her black eyes remained dead serious, fixed on the doorway. "Because we might just change the after-party to be in Bastion instead. And I don't think the King of Swords is going to find the humour in his people being returned to him in pieces."
***
While the NQSC was still scrubbing blood from marble and carpets, the air in Bastion was far colder.
Bastion was a city of iron, stone and the relentless sound of hammering. It was the heart of the Sword Domain, a fortress and Great Clan built upon the principle of strength lead by the heirs of War. In the centre of the citadel — the real Bastion — within a hall so vast that the ceiling was lost in shadows, sat a man who felt like the weight of a mountain.
Anvil of Valor did not look like a man who was easily surprised. His crimson cape brushing against his broad back and large figure while he was sat behind an anvil crafted from some sort of unfathomable nightmare creature, his presence was like the anvil he sat in front of — metallic, heavy and like cold steel.
A messenger knelt before him, trembling so violently that his armour rattled against the stone floor.
"Your Majesty, we've received a report..." The messenger whispered, his voice cracking. "The Song debut ball was interrupted. Caster, the rising star and scion of the Han Li Clan — a vassal of Valor — staged an assassination attempt on their newest Princess: The Queen of Nightmare."
Anvil did not move, but his presence filled the messenger with fear — a slight expression of the Supreme's Will. His hands were calloused despite his overwhelming strength and physique, scarred from the forge and fights against beings who could be considered gods to the mundane. "Caster was who we sent to kill Changing Star, wasn't he? He was reported dead, missing after failing in his mission. "
"He was very much alive, your Majesty. Until he wasn't." The messenger swallowed hard before continuing. "He attacked her on the terrace. The reports say the Princess handled it alone. She... she executed him in front of the representatives of every clan and the government."
Anvil's wee, grey and hard as flint, narrowed slightly. "And what of her words?"
The man hesitated, his face turning ashen. "She called him 'trash.' and... she told the witnesses to inform you, 'Anvil of Valor'... to keep your clan in order, lest she be forced to clean up after you again."
A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the hall. The shadow Anvil cast against the back wall seemed to sharpen, growing more imposing than it previously was. The air in the room became so thin it felt like standing on the mountain peak he could be compared to.
Anvil put one hand against his face, sighing at the implications and problems that will arise. "A vassal of my clan, previously sent to kill the last ember of the Immortal Flame, returned alive after failing and changed his target as an act of revenge." He exhaled, gathering his thoughts. "And that target had to be one of Song's daughters at the moment of her political debut. The timing couldn't be worse for a madman's whim."
He left the rest unsaid; the humiliation, the repercussions and how angered he was at this foolish act that happened under his nose.
He stood up, the movement slow and deliberate. The sheer gravity of his Supreme Will made the massive anvil groan under the pressure.
"Ki Song has found a daughter with very sharp fangs, it seems." Anvil said, his voice dropping to a whisper that echoed like a threat. "And she has used a problem of my own making to mock my authority. Does she want to play at blood and theatre? Very well, she always loved blooded games with Broken Sword."
He looked at the tall, slender woman standing in the shadows — his own forgotten and undesired daughter: Morgan of Valor. "Send word to our artisans and forgers. It seems the peace we've ensured is getting far too noisy."
***
Bask at the Song estate, the PTVs were already lined up. The party was over — fortunately for Asteria — the guests were being ushered out by tight-lipped security and the newest Princess was being dragged into a gilded cage on wheels.
Asteria sat in the back of the lead vehicle, flanked by Seishan and Revel. She looked out the window at the receding lights of the gala, the silver cuffs on her wrists feeling heavier than they had an hour ago.
"You're quiet," Seishan noted, her grey eyes reflecting the passing neon lights of the city.
"That's what happens when you nearly die," Asteria replied, leaning her head back against the leather. "Just thinking about the mess, really. I'm disgusted mostly... he dared to step foot into my palace and use it to try take my life. Was he obsessed?"
"I wonder when I'll get to see this palace you talk about so much." Revel said, her voice cool and clinical. "Obsession is a powerful fuel, though. It burns our quickly too. You did what was necessary, and that's what keeps us alive and the only way to survive."
Asteria closed her eyes. She thought of the look on Sunless's face — the scorn, the judgment. He saw her as a sellout, a girl who had traded her freedom for a title and a fancy dress.
'He's not wrong though.' She thought, her fingers trading the silver pendent at her throat. 'But this sellout is still alive and kicking, so I guess I win?'
As the PTV sped toward the building that houses the secret rift — a Dream Gate, now that Asteria leaned the name of it — that would take them back to the frozen spires of Ravenheart.
"Welcome to politics, dearest Sister." Seishan whispered, patting Asteria's hand. "Or should I say welcome to the war? It only gets bloodier from here."
Asteria didn't reply. She just watched the darkness of the city swallow the last of the sunlight.
'War, huh? Is this what I got myself into?'