The palace garden was in full bloom.
White roses stretched endlessly beneath the soft
afternoon sun, their petals untouched, their beauty pristine—carefully
cultivated, carefully controlled.
Just like everything else in the palace.
Lady Seraphine sat beneath a shaded pavilion, a
porcelain cup resting lightly between her fingers. The faint scent of tea mixed
with the sweetness of roses, creating an atmosphere so serene it almost felt
unreal.
Almost.
Footsteps approached.
Soft.
Measured.
"Speak."
She didn't look up.
The maid dropped to her knees instantly.
"My Lady… the Emperor has summoned the Second
Princess."
Seraphine's hand stilled.
Just slightly.
Then resumed.
"…I see."
Her voice remained calm.
But her eyes—
Darkened.
So.
It had reached him faster than expected.
The maid hesitated.
"There is more, my Lady."
Seraphine took a slow sip of tea.
"Then you had better not waste my time."
The maid swallowed.
"The assassin… failed."
Silence.
A long pause stretched beneath the pavilion,
broken only by the faint rustling of leaves.
Then—
Seraphine set her cup down.
Carefully.
"…And?"
Her voice was softer now.
Dangerously so.
"The assassin is dead," the maid continued
quickly. "Captured, but… silenced before speaking."
Seraphine exhaled quietly.
Not in frustration.
But in thought.
"…Good."
The maid blinked in surprise.
"My Lady?"
Seraphine finally lifted her gaze.
Cold.
Sharp.
"Did you expect anything else?" she asked.
The maid lowered her head immediately.
"N-No, my Lady."
Seraphine leaned back slightly, her posture
relaxed, her expression unreadable.
"A failed piece is still useful," she
murmured. "It reveals the board."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the
armrest.
Once.
Twice.
Thinking.
"The Emperor is watching now," she continued.
"Which means… we can no longer act openly."
A pause.
Her lips curved faintly.
"But that was never the plan."
The maid hesitated.
"…My Lady… what about the Third Prince?"
Silence.
Seraphine's gaze drifted toward the garden.
Toward the rows of white roses.
Beautiful.
Fragile.
Easily destroyed.
"…He's changing," she said softly.
The maid stiffened.
"…You've confirmed it?"
Seraphine didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
She reached out and plucked a single rose from
the bush beside her.
Its stem snapped cleanly.
Effortlessly.
"…A child who should have been weak," she
continued, examining the flower in her hand, "showing signs of power."
A pause.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the
stem.
"…And not just any power."
The maid's breath caught.
"My Lady… then we must—"
"No."
The word cut through her immediately.
Sharp.
Absolute.
The maid froze.
Seraphine's gaze lifted.
Cool.
Controlled.
"If we move too soon, we lose everything."
A slow breath.
Then—
"We wait."
The maid swallowed.
"But the Emperor—"
"Will observe," Seraphine interrupted calmly.
"He always does."
Her lips curved slightly.
"And that is exactly why we do nothing."
Confusion flickered across the maid's face.
"…Nothing?"
Seraphine tilted her head slightly.
"Tell me," she said, "what happens when
something unusual appears before the Emperor?"
The maid hesitated.
"…It is investigated."
Seraphine smiled faintly.
"And then?"
"…Controlled?"
Seraphine's smile deepened.
"…Exactly."
Her fingers tightened.
The rose stem snapped.
Petals fell.
One by one.
Soft.
Silent.
"Why would we remove the Third Prince," she
continued, her voice almost gentle, "when the Emperor might do it for us?"
The realization hit the maid instantly.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"My Lady… you mean—"
"We let him grow," Seraphine said.
A pause.
Her gaze turned cold.
"Just enough."
The air shifted.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
"And when his power becomes undeniable…"
A faint smile.
"…we ensure it becomes his downfall."
Silence filled the space.
The maid lowered her head completely now.
Understanding.
Fear.
"…You're using him."
Seraphine didn't deny it.
"Of course."
Her tone was almost amused.
"A weapon that destroys itself is the most
efficient kind."
The last petal fell from her hand.
Gone.
"…And the princess?" the maid asked carefully.
Seraphine's eyes flickered.
For the first time—
There was something sharper there.
Something personal.
"…She is the problem."
Not the prince.
Not the Emperor.
Her.
Elira.
"She interferes," Seraphine continued softly.
"Protects what should not be protected. Sees what she should not see."
A pause.
Her gaze darkened.
"…And children like that… grow into something
troublesome."
The maid remained silent.
Not daring to speak.
Seraphine leaned back once more, her
expression smoothing into something calm.
Composed.
Perfect.
But even troublesome things can be broken."
Her lips curved slightly.
"We simply need the right moment."
A breeze passed through the garden, carrying
the scent of roses through the air.
Soft.
Beautiful.
Deceptive.
Seraphine closed her eyes briefly.
"…Prepare the next step."
The maid bowed deeply.
"Yes, my Lady."
As she turned to leave—
Seraphine spoke one last time.
And keep watching."
A pause.
Her eyes opened slowly.
Cold.
Precise.
"Especially the princess."
Back in her chamber—
Elira sat beside the cradle, her fingers
gently wrapped around Kael's.
Her gaze distant.
Thinking.
Calculating.
"…They're waiting," she whispered.
She could feel it now.
The shift.
The pause before something worse.
Her grip tightened slightly.
"…That's fine."
Her eyes hardened.
"We'll be ready."