Sleep did not come easily.

  Even though the palace had settled into silence, my thoughts refused to follow.

  The throne hall confrontation replayed itself in my mind. Father’s probing questions. The subtle pressure behind every word. The way Empress Isolde Ravelle had watched me — not openly hostile, but measuring..

  They had taken the bait.

  The story of a “mysterious master” would buy me time. It explained my survival without revealing my true strength. More importantly, it planted uncertainty.

  If Father believed a hidden powerhouse stood behind me, he would hesitate. And hesitation, in imperial politics, was often the difference between action and restraint.

  A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

  “Brother…?”

  Sylvia’s voice was quiet.

  “Come in.”

  She entered hesitantly, dressed in a simple night robe, her long blue hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She looked younger without the academy uniform and noble composure — just a girl worried about her brother.

  “I heard Father summoned you,” she said softly. “Are you in trouble?”

  I smiled faintly.

  “I’m fine.”

  She stepped closer, studying my expression carefully.

  “You always say that.”

  There was no accusation in her voice — only concern.

  I exhaled.

  “The situation is complicated,” I admitted. “But it’s under control.”

  Sylvia relaxed slightly at that.

  She moved to sit across from me, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

  “When I heard about the attack,” she said quietly, “I was scared.”

  Her honesty caught me off guard.

  “I know you’re strong,” she continued, looking down at her fingers. “Stronger than people think. But even strong people can be surrounded.”

  A faint warmth stirred in my chest.

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  In past lives, I had stood alone more times than I could count. Armies rose and fell around me. Kingdoms burned.

  But this life—

  It was different.

  “I won’t let anything happen to me so easily,” I said, more gently than before.

  She nodded, though her brows still held a trace of worry.

  “Just… don’t carry everything by yourself.”

  Her words lingered after she left.

  Elsewhere in the palace, candles still burned in the Emperor’s private chamber.

  Gareth Valemont sat behind a wide desk, fingers steepled.

  “Nothing?” he asked quietly.

  The kneeling intelligence officer lowered his head further.

  “No record of such a master, Your Majesty. No rumors. No sightings. No known hermit matching that description.”

  Gareth’s eyes darkened.

  “A hidden expert who can dispatch an eighth-layer assassin without leaving traces…” he murmured. “Either my son is far more fortunate than expected… or far more dangerous.”

  Beside him, Empress Isolde Ravelle spoke calmly.

  “Children often exaggerate their achievements, Your Majesty.”

  “Perhaps.”

  But Gareth did not sound convinced.

  “Continue investigating,” he ordered. “Quietly.”

  The officer bowed and vanished into the shadows.

  Isolde’s fingers tightened slightly around the armrest of her chair.

  If a true hidden powerhouse existed behind Edric Valemont…

  That complicated everything.

  The following morning, I visited Marielle again.

  This time, she was fully dressed in formal attire, her earlier hesitation replaced with something sharper..

  “You weren’t joking yesterday,” she said as soon as the door closed. “About the throne.”

  “No.”

  She walked toward the window, looking out at the inner courtyard.

  “If I move, I must move carefully. Lucan already has the support of three major houses.”

  “And Rowan?” I asked.

  “He follows whoever Father favors.”

  As expected.

  Marielle turned back toward me.

  “If I do this, there’s no turning back.”

  “There never was,” I replied calmly.

  For a moment, silence hung between us.

  Then she nodded.

  “Then we begin subtly.”

  A small smile curved my lips.

  “First, strengthen your reputation at the Aurelian Imperial Academy. Win over the young nobles. They will influence their families.”

  “And you?” she asked.

  “I will handle the unseen parts.”

  She studied me carefully.

  “You’re changing, Edric.”

  “Am I?”

  “You’re colder.”

  I didn’t answer.

  Instead, I stepped closer and adjusted the clasp on her shoulder armor.

  “Someone has to be.”

  She did not pull away.

  Later that day, I sought out Daphne Kael in the garden.

  She bowed lightly when she saw me, but her eyes were bright.

  “I kept my promise,” she said proudly. “I told them everything exactly as you instructed.”

  “Well done.”

  She hesitated before asking, “About what we discussed… becoming stronger.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” I replied.

  Strengthening her recklessly would draw attention. But if I structured it properly — disguised as ordinary academy guidance — no one would suspect.

  “I’ll start teaching you tonight,” I said. “But it will be difficult.”

  “I’m not afraid of difficult.”

  Her answer came without hesitation.

  Good.

  Because the storm gathering around the Valemont Family would not be gentle.

  That evening, Sylvia returned again — this time with a stack of academy notes.

  “I thought you might need these,” she said awkwardly. “If you’re planning something.”

  I accepted them with a faint smile.

  “Thank you.”

  She lingered by the doorway.

  “Brother?”

  “Yes?”

  “Whatever happens… I’ll stand on your side.”

  There was no dramatic oath. No fiery declaration.

  Just quiet sincerity.

  For the first time since returning from the throne hall, I felt something ease inside me.

  Perhaps I did not need to carry everything alone after all.

  As night fell over the Eldoria Imperium, three separate forces began to move:

  The Emperor’s suspicion.

  The Ravelle Family’s vigilance.

  And Marielle Valemont’s quiet ascent.

  The board was set.

  And this time—

  I would not be the piece.

  I would be the one moving them.