The study was dimly lit despite the afternoon hour, heavy curtains drawn against daylight. Shadows pooled in the corners, making the spacious room feel smaller, more confining.
Selene sat rigidly upright at her desk, her posture perfect despite obvious exhaustion.
She wore a formal gown, deep erald that complented her coloring but hung slightly loose on a fra that had lost weight over recent weeks.
Her black hair was pulled back in severe style that emphasized features grown gaunt. Dark circles shadowed her green eyes, evidence of too many sleepless nights, too many hours spent searching, planning, hoping against evidence that hope was futile.
Before her on the desk were docunts. Reports. Intelligence gathered from dozens of sources, all saying the sa thing in different words:
Nothing. No leads. No trace. No answers.
Her green eyes scanned the latest report without really seeing it. The words blurred together. She’d read similar accounts so many tis they’d lost individual aning, becoming just... noise.
Where are you? Please, just give sothing...
Then the shadows in the corner shifted.
A hooded figure materialized from the darkness, dropping smoothly to one knee beside the desk with practiced ease.
"How are things proceeding, Sari?" Selene’s voice was controlled. Flat.
Sari pulled back her hood slightly.
"Not good, my lady." Her voice was quiet, apologetic. "It’s just... chaos."
Selene’s jaw tightened fractionally. "What about my daughter?"
Sari’s expression beca even more apologetic. "Lady Elina has locked herself in."
Selene’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, knuckles going white from pressure, wood creaking faintly in protest.
She forced herself to breathe. To focus on what could be controlled rather than what couldn’t.
"What about him?" Her voice dropped lower. More desperate. "Any leads? Anything at all?"
Sari’s head bowed. "I’m sorry, my lady. We’ve searched everywhere within a hundred miles of the Academy. Questioned hundreds of witnesses. Followed every rumor, every possible sighting." She paused, the words clearly difficult. "We couldn’t find Master Alaric. It’s like he just... vanished."
Sothing twisted in Selene’s chest.
Few weeks.
Few weeks since the attack on Phoenix Academy. Few weeks since Alaric had disappeared, dragged into shadow along with his attendant Nyra, gone without trace.
Few weeks of searching. Investigating. Calling in every favor, spending resources she could barely afford, pushing herself and her network to exhaustion.
And nothing. No leads. No evidence. No trail to follow.
Just... absence.
Selene nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Sari. Continue the search. Expand the radius. Question anyone who might have seen anything." Her voice was chanical. "I don’t care about the cost. Find him."
"Yes, my lady." Sari stood smoothly, pulled her hood back up, and lted into the shadows.
The study fell silent.
Selene sat at her desk, surrounded by useless reports, staring at nothing.
Then slowly, she let her head fall backward.
Co back to please, Alaric.
******
The chamber was a study in controlled opulence.
Tall windows draped with curtains of midnight blue silk embroidered with silver thread.
The walls were paneled in pale wood inlaid with darker patterns that suggested leaves and vines.
A fireplace of white marble dominated one wall, cold now in the afternoon warmth but flanked by chairs.
Paintings adorned the walls.
A desk of carved mahogany sat near the windows. Bookshelves lined another wall, filled with volus both decorative and functional.
Everything spoke of power worn comfortably. Of resources so abundant they needn’t be flaunted. Of a queen who understood that true authority required no excessive display.
On a couch of deep blue velvet, positioned to catch the window light while maintaining view of the entire room, was Queen Vesperine Grey.
She sat perfectly upright despite the comfortable furniture.
Her gown was erald green accented with gold. The fabric was expensive without being gaudy, cut to emphasize her figure while maintaining dignity appropriate to her station.
Her auburn hair was swept up and pinned with gold combs in a style that revealed her long, elegant neck. A few artful strands had been allowed to escape the arrangent, softening what might otherwise be severe into sothing approachable.
Green eyes that tracked every movent of the man pacing before her with the focused attention of soone watching a situation spiral beyond control.
King Zardric Grey moved across the chamber in agitated strides, back and forth, back and forth, his boots making sharp sounds against the polished floor.
His grey hair, usually ticulously grood, was disheveled from repeated gestures of running hands through it. His formal jacket hung open, his shirt partially untucked.
He muttered under his breath as he paced. Fragnts of argunts. Half-ford rebuttals to accusations no one present had made. Working himself into deeper fury with each circuit.
"Your Majesty," Vesperine’s voice cut through his muttering. "I think we should—"
"We should what, Vesperine?" Zardric spun to face her, his pale blue eyes blazing. "Kneel? Surrender? Is that what you’re suggesting?"
His voice rose to near-bellow, filling the chamber with raw fury.
"Apologize to those sanctimonious bastards from Lioren for things beyond our control? Grovel before the Beastkin Confederation because their precious heirs got caught in demon attack? Kiss the Elven Courts’ feet because they lost a few students?"
He laughed, bitter, harsh sound devoid of humor.
"There is no way I am doing that. No way I’m showing weakness to kingdoms that have been waiting years for excuse to undermine us!"
Vesperine stood smoothly, her movents graceful despite the tension radiating through her fra. She faced her husband across the chamber, her green eyes eting his pale blue ones without flinching.
"Then what about seeking assistance from our allies?" Her voice remained asured.
"Oh yes!" Zardric’s laugh beca more unhinged. "Let’s invite more wolves into the fold! Let’s owe favors to those bastards who’ll spend the next decade collecting with interest! And when the ti cos, when we’re vulnerable, when they decide our usefulness has expired, the snakes will bite back!"
His hands gestured wildly, encompassing invisible threats.
"Is that what you want? To trade one crisis for another? To survive this only to find ourselves beholden to ’allies’ who’ll strangle us slowly instead of quickly?"
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