The Capital of the Ourem Empire knew no dark nights. At every street corner, golden lanterns powered by sound resonance hummed incessantly, emitting a light so dazzling it made the head of anyone who heard it throb with pain.
Inside the highest chamber of the East Wing Tower, Rainnes Juoi sat before a massive floor-length mirror. The palace handmaidens had just finished dressing her in a bone-white silk gown woven with mercury thread. The dress felt heavy and cold, as if thousands of silver ants were crawling across her skin.
"Perfect," a voice whispered from the doorway.
William de Croul stood there, clad in formal Royal attire. In his golden eyes, Rainnes did not see admiration for a woman, but the satisfaction of a collector who had just acquired a rare artifact.
"Prince," Rainnes stood stiffly. "This dress... the sound is so loud. I can hear the fabric singing."
William approached, his cold fingers touching Rainnes' chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. "That isn't noise, Rainnes. It is harmony. The mercury thread captures the holy vibrations within you. You are no longer just a village girl; you are God's instrument."
William produced a black velvet box. Inside lay a crown shaped like a ring of sharp, intertwining thorns, yet crafted from the most brilliant pure gold.
"Wear this for your coronation ceremony tonight," William said.
As the crown was placed upon Rainnes' head, she flinched. The golden thorns did not pierce her skin, but she felt a sharp vibration travel deep into her skull. Suddenly, her vision shifted. The beautiful room transformed into a complex web of frequencies.
She saw a dark silhouette lurking behind William's shadow—something shaped like black smoke with thousands of whispering eyes.
"Prince... there is something behind you..." Rainnes whispered, her voice trembling.
William only offered a calm smile, a smile that now looked like a cracked porcelain mask to Rainnes. "That is merely your nerves, my dear. Focus on your song. Remember, every note you utter is a life of the people you have saved."
William kissed her forehead, but to Rainnes' ears, the sound of the kiss echoed like the tearing of flesh.
Meanwhile, to the West, in the bustling Port of Vaine-Castell, Lady Anne Marie Vain stood on the balcony of her office overlooking the open sea. In her hand, she held an official letter that had just arrived from the North via Julian.
The letter bore a fresh blood-seal.
"He signed it," Anne murmured.
Julian, standing behind her with clothes still covered in dust, nodded. "General Harold accepted the contract, My lady. But he issued a warning. He will strike down the head of anyone who betrays him."
Anne let out a small, dry, emotionless laugh. She snapped her pocket watch shut with a firm click. "Harold is a logical man. He knows that in this mad world, betrayal is a luxury we cannot afford. Julian, activate the 'Black Supplies' immediately. Send the grain to the Northern outposts this very night."
Anne gazed toward the distant Capital, where the red sky seemed to burn more fiercely than usual.
"Let William celebrate his Saintess," Anne said, her eyes glinting behind her spectacles. "He gives the people a song, but I will give them a reason to stop worshipping a hungry God."
Anne picked up a brush and red ink, then wrote a single word across the map of the Capital's defenses: SILENCE.