ch 11: Clouds Before the Storm
In the Elite Dormitory, where silence and luxury reigned.
Inside a spacious room adorned with opulent royal furniture, sat a girl of breathtaking beauty. Long silver hair cascaded like a waterfall of moonlight down to the middle of her back, and clear blue eyes reflected a cloudless sky.
Princess Celine von Arcadia. The Second Princess of the Empire.
She sat behind her mahogany desk, buried in reviewing stacks of papers and reports.
She paused for a moment, shedding her royal composure to lean back in her chair, closing her eyes as she released a long, heavy sigh.
Time took her back... to that announcement that turned her life upside down five years ago.
The Emperor had gathered his three children, his wives, and the high nobles in the Throne Room. Everyone expected the traditional announcement: the appointment of the First Prince as Crown Prince.
But the Emperor, with a cold, indisputable gaze, shocked the entire Empire.
"The throne is not a birthright, but a right for the strongest. I will test you all... and whoever proves to be the worthiest shall rule after me."
When his voice echoed in the hall, Celine was just a twelve-year-old child.
She didn't covet a crown or a throne. She hated politics and its dark corridors. All she wished for was a quiet life like her late mother's; to grow up, marry a good man, and raise her children far from palace conflicts.
But fate—and "that person"—had other ideas.
Suddenly, she found herself thrust into the center of a bloody chessboard, stripped of her will, pursuing a throne she never wanted, executing orders she couldn't refuse.
And now, she had become a prominent candidate, and a symbol for one of the most powerful factions in the Empire.
Celine sighed as she contemplated the Empire's political situation.
In the Empire, conflict wasn't just sword and shield, but parties and factions:
The Imperial Party: Considered the strongest, but internally divided between the Emperor's faction, the First Prince's faction, and the Second Princess's faction.
The Anti-Imperial Party: Composed of nobles seeking to diminish the Throne's power.
The Neutral Party: Consisting of nobles who hadn't taken a side.
Celine was deep in analyzing these power balances when a light, disciplined knock on the door interrupted her train of thought.
She opened her eyes and regained her mask of royal coldness.
"Enter."
The door opened to reveal her personal maid, carrying a tray with a letter sealed with dark red wax.
"Your Highness, an urgent letter arrived via magical post from Marquis Bernadio's estate."
Celine furrowed her brows. "Marquis Bernadio?"
She took the letter and signaled for the maid to leave.
She broke the seal, and as soon as she read the first few lines, her eyes widened in rare astonishment.
A request for immediate financial and military support... in preparation for an all-out war against Marquis Lariska.
Celine's mind froze for a moment. War between two high noble families in the capital? This is madness!
She quickly regained her composure. She needed information, now.
She rang the small bell on her desk. The maid entered immediately.
"Call Miss Isabella. Immediately."
"At once, Your Highness."
A few minutes later, a strong, confident knock was heard on the door.
"Enter."
A young woman entered, radiating vitality and strength with an aura of nobility. Short golden hair, bright green eyes, wearing a light knight's uniform adorned with the Knights' crest, and a slender rapier hanging at her waist.
Isabella von Valerius. A talented knight and close friend.
Isabella bowed in a respectful military stance. "It is an honor to see you again, Your Highness."
Celine interrupted her in a serious tone, "Save the pleasantries, Isabella. I have urgent questions."
Isabella sensed the seriousness in the Princess's voice, so she straightened with a stern expression. "At your command, Your Highness."
"Have you heard about the declaration of war between Marquis Lariska and Marquis Bernadio?"
"Yes, Your Highness. The news spread like wildfire this morning."
"Tell me every detail. What in the hell happened?"
Isabella cleared her throat and began her report:
"As you command. According to confirmed information, Young Master 'Jakov', the son of Marquis Lariska, was assassinated last night."
"Where?"
"At Marquis Bernadio's palace, during a private evening party."
"And why did Lariska declare war so quickly? Assassinations require an investigation."
Isabella hesitated slightly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "That... is because of the position of the body, Your Highness."
Celine tilted her head. "Why did you stop? Continue."
Isabella cleared her throat and said quickly, "Master Jakov was assassinated in the bedroom, while he was... fornicating with Marquis Bernadio's youngest daughter."
Celine gasped in genuine shock. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely certain. There were witnesses. The bigger problem is that the Lariska family knights arrived at the scene suspiciously fast after the incident, claiming they came to escort their master. And when they found him murdered..."
Isabella paused to swallow.
"They stormed the room, and in a fit of rage, killed Marquis Bernadio's daughter in her bed, accusing the Bernadio family of luring their son and killing him treacherously."
Celine rested her head in her hand. "What a disaster... a moral scandal and a double murder."
Isabella continued, "For this reason, there is no longer room for negotiation. Blood has been spilled on both sides."
Celine sighed. The situation was worse than she imagined.
Isabella asked cautiously, "Your Highness... what will you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"Marquis Bernadio is one of your main supporters. While Marquis Lariska is the right hand of the First Prince. If war breaks out..."
She didn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear. This was a proxy war between Celine and her older brother.
Thoughts raced through Celine's mind at lightning speed.
Is this my brother's doing? The timing and the speed of his knights' arrival arouse suspicion. Did he sacrifice his ally's son to entrap me?
Or is the Anti-Imperial Party trying to ignite strife?
Tsk... the evidence is vague and the perpetrator unknown.
But one thing was certain: she couldn't abandon Bernadio. Losing him meant losing massive funding and influence in the capital.
Isabella interrupted her thoughts, "Your Highness, isn't it best to send support? Losing Bernadio now would be a fatal blow to our faction."
Celine raised her head, regaining her look of determination. "You are right. I have no choice."
Isabella stood up. "Then, I will go now to complete my training, if you permit me."
"You may go."
Isabella bowed and left.
Once the door closed, Celine pulled out official paper and a quill.
She began writing a quick, decisive reply to Marquis Bernadio: Support is coming. Hold your ground.
She sealed the letter and rang the bell.
The maid entered. Celine handed her the letter: "Send this immediately. Through secret channels."
"As you command."
Celine was left alone once again in the spacious room.
She felt a tremendous weight on her chest. She sighed for the thousandth time that day.
She rose and walked toward the large window overlooking the Academy gardens.
The sky was clouded with heavy gray clouds blocking the sunlight.
Celine looked at the distant horizon and muttered in a faint voice:
"The weather is cloudy... the storm must be coming."
On the other side of the capital, inside the Ruby Palace belonging to the First Prince, Nero von Arcadia.
The sound of shattering glass filled the place.
The First Prince, a massive man with short blond hair and sharp violet eyes, stood screaming in his messenger's face while kicking the heavy table with his foot.
"That fool Lariska! How dare he declare war without my permission? And how could his son be killed in the enemy's home so easily?"
Nero was panting with rage, his mind spinning trying to understand the game.
"Bernadio doesn't have the audacity to kill Lariska's son... unless he is supported."
The Prince narrowed his eyes and looked through the window toward the Second Princess's palace.
"Celine... was this your plan? Sacrificing a small piece to drag me into a swamp of attrition warfare? It seems my little sister has finally grown fangs."
Nero gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.
"You want war? Fine... I will give you hell."
At that same moment, In the Elite building.
Elias was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking through his window at the same gray clouds Celine was watching.
But unlike the Princess's anxious features, Elias's face was as calm as the surface of a stagnant lake.
In his hand, he held a black chess piece—the "Pawn."
He placed the piece on the table beside him with a light touch, then coughed some blood into his handkerchief and hid it.
A pale, cold smile appeared on his lips as he whispered to the gathering clouds:
"The Prince must be in a fit of rage right now... the storm has already arrived."
Elias closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of distant thunder beginning to rumble in the sky.
