Tightens
"The predator who believes himself the hunter... rarely sees the trap closing."
Smoke coiled upward from distant wings of the palace, dark plumes staining the sky like bruises. The Regent's carefully planted agents were doing their work—proof that the chaos he'd orchestrated was unfolding precisely as planned.
"Look! They're hunting for you—they mean to capture you and end your life!"
The Regent's voice carried the weight of manufactured urgency. He watched his niece's face, searching for the fear he expected to find there.
"Me?"
Medea's voice was small, uncertain.
"You are the last Princess of this bloodline. Without you, they cannot legitimize their new dynasty. This entire rebellion—it's a war for succession, and you are the prize they seek."
His tone darkened, taking on an edge of carefully crafted menace.
"If they capture you, this royal house is finished. Those traitors will use you as a hostage to break your brother's will."
Silence hung between them.
The Regent studied those confused green eyes—so innocent, so easily manipulated—and placed his broad hands upon her slender shoulders, pressing down as if to anchor her in place.
"Medea, I know you harbor suspicions about me. But I swore an oath to my dead brother—your father—that I would protect you, no matter the cost."
Medea's lips trembled when she finally spoke.
"Then... what will you do, Uncle?"
"I..."
The Regent drew himself up, affecting the bearing of a man prepared to meet death with dignity.
"I must remain here and defend this ground. We need a kingdom to return to, don't we? Someone must keep their eyes fixed elsewhere while you escape."
His expression shifted to one of solemn resolve—the portrait of an uncle willing to sacrifice everything for his beloved niece.
"Medea, you must flee immediately. I've prepared an escape route that will carry you past the traitors and out of the palace safely."
He inclined his head toward the armored figure waiting in the shadows.
"My personal knight will guard you until you reach sanctuary."
A powerfully built knight stepped forward, the emblem of House Claudio gleaming on his breastplate. He dropped to one knee before the Princess.
"I pledge my life to deliver Your Highness to safety."
But the Princess stood frozen, as though his words had failed to reach her.
Her thin shoulders began to shake.
"You must be terrified."
The Regent's voice softened with false sympathy.
"You never imagined they would tear the palace apart like this."
Then his tone hardened, taking on the edge of command—pressing her before doubt could take root.
"Will you remain here and become their puppet? Will you surrender the kingdom your brother gave his life to protect?"
"...I understand, Uncle. I will do as you say."
Medea nodded slowly. Her luminous green eyes glistened with unshed tears, so full they seemed ready to spill at the slightest touch.
Yes. Yes!
The Regent barely contained his triumph. Behind the mask of paternal concern, his gaze met the knight's in silent communication.
'Lead Medea through the secret passage and deliver her to the rebels. And do not forget my final instruction.'
'Yes, Your Grace.'
As they approached the Princess's quarters, the knight felt a familiar chill settle in his chest. The Regent's words echoed in his mind:
"When you find a rebel, ensure you leave a permanent mark on the girl's face. The mouth, the cheek—it matters not where. Gouging out an eye would serve just as well."
The Regent had observed Jason's growing interest in Medea with mounting alarm.
"Eventually, the Grand Duke of Castullo will come to rescue her. I must sever that connection before it deepens any further."
The position of Grand Duchess was destined for his daughter Birna—and Birna alone.
The knight's lip curled with distaste. His lord's wickedness knew no bounds—plotting to steal his nephew's throne while destroying his niece's future. Yet the promised reward was substantial enough to quiet his conscience.
"Then, dear Dea—you must survive."
The Regent clasped Medea's hand one final time, his voice thick with theatrical grief, before turning away.
Medea remained motionless, watching until her uncle disappeared from view.
The knight shifted impatiently.
"Your Highness, we must move. Time is short."
"...I'm so worried about my uncle. I cannot bring myself to leave."
The knight suppressed a snort of contempt. Here she stood, ignorant that he was leading her to slaughter, and still she fretted over the very man who had condemned her. What a pitifully naive creature.
"What of the rest of my family? My aunt? Samon and Birna? I cannot flee while they remain in danger."
The knight's patience frayed. Precious seconds were slipping away.
"They departed earlier and are already safe. The Regent commanded us to prioritize Your Highness above all else. Now please—we must go."
"That isn't true."
The words fell from the Princess's lips like stones dropping into still water.
"Birna is here. Inside the palace."
"What?"
The knight's head snapped toward her, certain he had misheard.
Lady Claudio—his lord's precious daughter, who should be safely ensconced at the ducal estate—present in this chaos?
"I summoned her through Jason. Or rather, through the maid who serves him."
"What—?"
The question died on his lips as darkness swallowed his vision.
"Zeta."
Medea's voice was ice and silk.
She signaled to the figure materializing behind the fallen knight. Zeta moved with lethal efficiency—dragging the unconscious body beneath a dense thicket of ornamental shrubs, stripping away the armor, donning the steel plates bearing House Claudio's crest.
"Let us find Birna."
❧Valdina Palace — The Ambassador's Residence
"My Lord, what troubles you?"
"We must evacuate Valdina immediately. A rebellion has begun."
The Count of Kensington's expression transformed as he absorbed the contents of the dispatch in his hands. His knuckles whitened against the parchment.
"They march northward, crying for the royal family's destruction. The palace will be overrun within hours."
'Can we possibly extract the entire delegation in time?'
Kensington bit down on his lip, seized by a rare moment of helplessness. His failure to act sooner on the Red Fox's intelligence had been a costly error.
"My Lord, surely we should gather more information before—"
Kensington cut him off.
"This rebellion may well be her design!"
The Hunting Grounds Incident had ensnared the Regent, the Fourth Princess, and even Jason in a web of peril—yet Princess Medea had emerged with nothing to gain.
Or so it appeared.
She had wrapped them all in silk like a patient spider, simply because they had dared to threaten her. More astonishing still—not a single soul, not even the humiliated Grand Duke of Castullo, suspected her hand in any of it.
'I dispatch one small group, and suddenly there's an uprising. Where is the Princess now? And who has she marked as her next prey?'
A shiver traced down his spine.
Then understanding struck him like a blade between the ribs.
'If she wished, she could have concealed her movements entirely. So why reveal them to me?'
A Princess capable of blindsiding Valdina and Katzen's most powerful factions without leaving a trace would never be so careless as to leave evidence behind.
If Kensington could detect her influence, it was because Medea intended for him to see.
> " You deserve a better Master. "
"Ha..."
Kensington released a hollow laugh as the Princess's design crystallized before him.
She was courting him. Tempting him to abandon those faithless, ungrateful masters and pledge himself to her cause.
"Never in my life have I been pursued with such... sincerity."
Even Perdiccas II, his current lord, had never demonstrated this level of calculated consideration.
Whether to feel honored by her attention or wary of her as a Katzenian threat—he could not decide. He had never encountered anyone quite like her.
"...First, inform Her Highness the Fourth Princess and the rest of the delegation to prepare for immediate departure."
"And you, my Lord? Will you not accompany them?"
Umberto tilted his head, noting the hesitation in Kensington's bearing.
"For now..."
A measured calm settled over Kensington's voice.
"I believe I shall linger and observe. Extracting myself alone presents little difficulty."
He folded his arms, a keen light kindling in his eyes.
"I'll have my answer soon enough."
This time, he intended to watch every puppet dance upon the board the Princess had so meticulously arranged.
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