Seeing Queen Lucy and Mystica step into the training hall, their presence carrying a natural gravity that made the air feel tighter, both Mabel and Liam straightened as they dipped their heads in a respectful bow. Their voices overlapping as they greeted.
"Your Majesty. Lady Moonstone."
"Your Majesty. Mystica."
Lucy stopped a few paces from them, the faint curl of a smirk tugging subtly at her lips. "At ease, you two," she said, her voice soft but commanding enough to sweep away formality.
When Mabel and Liam lifted their heads, Mabel’s eyes t Mystica’s playful, knowingly mischievous stare. The Primordial woman didn’t bother to hide the amusent shimring in her purple eyes, and despite the mask covering the lower half of her face, Mabel felt the heat creeping into her cheeks. It was the kind of look Mystica gave when she already had an entire teasing scenario written in her mind.
"Lady Moonstone, it’s not what you think..." Mabel began, trying to salvage whatever dignity she could, but Mystica raised a hand delicately, stopping her without even touching her.
"Oh, don’t worry about , sweetheart," Mystica said, her voice velvety and teasing, dripping with mischief. "I just enjoy having my fun when the opportunity presents itself. And really, I see nothing wrong with the two of you wanting to... indulge yourselves here. Just make sure to lock the doors first." She finished with a slow, exaggerated wink that made Mabel’s stomach twist in mortified knots.
Lucy’s smirk deepened, subtle but unmistakably entertained, watching one of her most composed and lethal operatives crumble into flustered silence over a teasing remark involving a sixteen-year-old boy. "Alright, enough, Mystica," Lucy interjected calmly, though her tone carried a razor-thin undercurrent of amusent. "We didn’t co here to tornt the children. Let’s focus."
"Of course, Your Majesty. My apologies," Mystica replied, though the sly lilt in her voice made it abundantly clear she wasn’t sorry at all.
’How shaless can they be?’ Liam and Mabel thought at the sa ti, though neither dared voice it.
Lucy shifted her attention to Liam, her expression settling into a more analytical calm as her eyes traced over him. "It seems you’ve been keeping yourself busy since our last conversation," she observed. "Your progress shows. It’s impressive."
Her gaze lingered on his face for a mont longer, studying him with that perceptive sharpness she always carried. "And the haircut suits you. Looks like your barber did a fine job. You look... more like yourself again."
Liam shrugged lightly, eyes steady. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good," Lucy murmured, almost to herself, before exhaling through her nose. "Anyway, I’m here with good news regarding your... restriction protest."
"Protest? I wouldn’t call it a protest," Liam said with his usual even calm.
"Well, I would. And I did," Lucy replied, unfazed and mildly amused. "Regardless, I managed to get Valemir to agree to an audience with you. You’ll have the chance to speak your mind directly. Naturally, there are terms and conditions attached."
"I expected as much," Liam said. "What are they?"
Lucy shifted her weight slightly, the soft rustle of her attire the only sound in the hall as her expression grew more formal. "One of the conditions," she began, her tone steady but edged with sothing firr, "is that once you enter Crescent, you will be placed under a restriction spell. Valemir and his council still don’t trust your existence... or what you represent. So before anything else happens, your affinities will be sealed the mont you step inside."
Mabel stiffened slightly at that, a hint of tension pulling at her shoulders, but Liam’s expression didn’t shift in the slightest. His face remained as calm as it always was, detached and unreadable, almost as if Lucy had simply told him the weather. In truth, the news didn’t strike him as anything surprising. He had already considered the possibility long before this conversation. He was a dark mage entering the so called the ’Holy’ land, a precaution like that was predictable.
Lucy studied him for a brief mont, perhaps expecting a reaction, and when she found none, she continued with a more reassuring tone. "You don’t need to worry," she said. "Mystica and I will both be present as witnesses. You won’t be walking into this alone."
Mystica smiled at that, a slow, amused curl of her lips that gave the impression she already found entertainnt in how things would unfold. Lucy ignored her and pressed on.
"There was another condition," she added. "One I insisted on, and Valemir eventually agreed. Sheila will attend the event as well. You’ll need her for whatever it is you’re planning, and her presence is sothing you’re entitled to request."
Liam gave a small bow of appreciation, his voice level and respectful. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
Lucy waved a hand lightly as though brushing off formality. "There’s no need for that. Those were the two most important matters you needed to know. The rest are just protocols—standard codes of conduct when addressing a king and a royal family. Mabel will help you prepare for those."
Mabel nodded sharply, though her face still held a faint flush, her earlier embarrassnt not quite gone.
Lucy let out a quiet breath, the weight of her authority settling over her once again. "The event takes place in three days," she said. "Make sure you’re ready. If you walk into that throne room unprepared, you’ll only give Valemir more reason to push for your execution. When you speak to him, you must look him in the eyes. Do not stutter, do not waver. He will try to crush your composure with his dominance, and he’s exceptionally good at it."
Her gaze sharpened, as if trying to pierce through Liam’s stoic shell. "You’re not soone who shakes easily, no matter who stands in front of you, but do not underestimate Valemir. He despises you more than anyone else in the realm, and he will not hide it. Expect him to release killing intent without hesitation. Do not let it get to you."
Liam nodded once, slow and controlled. "Understood," he said. "I’ll make good use of your advice."
Sothing in Lucy softened at that—not in a sentintal way, but in the way a ruler relaxes slightly when they sense competence and resolve. She allowed a small, genuine smile to touch her lips. "Good. Then Mystica and I will take our leave."
She turned smoothly, Mystica following at her side with that sa elegant, unbothered stride she always carried. But before she fully turned her back, Mystica paused just long enough to glance over her shoulder, her eyes glimring with unrestrained mischief.
"You two can get back to whatever you were about to do," she said, her voice dripping with suggestive amusent. "Don’t let us stop you."
The comnt earned her a flat, blunt glare from Liam—sharp enough to cut through stone, yet it slid right off Mystica like water. Mabel, on the other hand, felt her composure tremble. Her face heated beneath the mask, and she swallowed hard, fighting the urge to snap back or deny anything. Every fiber of her discipline was working overti to keep her from reacting in a way that would land her in trouble. In her mind, she could only grit her teeth silently.
’I’m really beginning to dislike her...’ she thought, mortification simring beneath her calm exterior.
Mystica simply smiled wider, thoroughly entertained, before she finally turned away and followed Lucy out of the training hall, leaving Liam and Mabel in the heavy quiet of their wake.
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