CHAPTER TWELVE: THE WHISPER IN THE DARK
The castle was unusually quiet that morning. Esterphania stood in the training yard, panting slightly as her blade melted back into shadow. She had been sparring with her clone—something she'd finally mastered, thanks to a certain irritating prince who had now vanished for weeks.
Everything felt off since Alexander's departure. Melody had resumed her public duties with grace, but privately, she was still bitter. The king too was growing restless. And Esterphania? She had begun noticing patterns. Movements that didn't make sense. Guards being swapped at strange hours. Doors unlocked that should have been sealed.
And then it happened.
One night, as the moon hung like a silver blade in the sky, Esterphania couldn't sleep. She left her chambers, wrapped in her black cloak, only to catch the tail-end of a flicker—someone vanishing down the eastern wing. A wing rarely used.
Her eyes narrowed.
Without hesitation, she followed. Her bare feet made no sound against the cold marble. She melted into the shadows like fog, tracking the figure through narrow passageways. When they paused, she paused. When they turned, she turned.
Finally, the figure ducked into the old war council room—a place locked for decades.
But it was open now.
Esterphania summoned her shadow and slipped through the cracks, scaling the wall and resting in the rafters above. She watched.
Below stood a royal guard—Sir Thelen, one of the captains of the night patrol. He was pacing, nervously pulling a scroll from his belt. Moments later, a crackle of magic shimmered and a figure appeared through a projection—an older vampire with pale eyes and a mouth that barely moved when he spoke.
"You're late."
"There were more eyes this week. I had to be careful," Thelen whispered.
"The hybrid girl—how much does she know?"
"Too much. She's smarter than we thought."
The projection hissed. "You failed to poison the prince. And now he's gone."
"He left on his own—he suspects something."
"Then we must move fast. The king must fall before his return."
Esterphania's blood went cold.
She vanished from the rafters in a whisper of shadows and appeared behind Thelen, a blade at his throat before he could scream. The projection blinked out instantly.
"Well well," she said coolly, pressing the edge closer. "Plotting treason in daddy's house? Bold."
Thelen swung at her, but she ducked. They clashed, but he was no match for her. Within seconds, he was on the floor, gasping, her blade at his chest.
"Who is he?" she demanded. "The vampire."
"I—I don't know his name. I only take orders."
"Then start praying, because you're going to meet your gods tonight."
She knocked him out cold and bound him in cursed chains—infused with her own blood to seal his magic. Dragging him by the collar like garbage, she stormed into the throne room where her father was in council.
The guards immediately raised their weapons.
"At ease," Lucien said, rising with alarm. "Esterphania?"
She tossed Thelen to the floor. "We have a traitor in our midst, Father. And a vampire lord connected to his actions."
Gasps echoed. Melody entered just in time to hear it and paled.
Lucien came down from his throne and looked at his unconscious soldier. Then he turned to his daughter.
"Explain everything."
And she did.
From the flickering figure to the conspiracy to assassinate him, to the failed attempt on Alexander, to Thelen's confession. The room grew darker as she spoke, not because of the torches—but because of the weight of what had almost happened.
Lucien placed a hand on her shoulder. "You've done more than protect this castle—you've protected this kingdom."
Esterphania looked away. "Don't thank me yet. This is only the beginning."
That night, as she walked to her chambers, Melody caught up to her.
"Thank you… for stepping in," she said quietly.
Esterphania raised an eyebrow. "Thank me again and I'll think you like me."
Melody gave a soft chuckle. "I don't. But… I respect you."
"I can live with that," Esterphania said.
As the door closed behind her, she looked out the window. Somewhere out there, Alexander was carving his own war path. But here, within these walls, the real war had just begun.
And she would be ready.