CHAPTER 547: THE DEVIOUS STRATAGEMS

The man’s dark eyes watched the great house from a hidden path, contempt etched across his face.

Days had passed since they first arrived, yet the mansion’s sudden lockdown showed no sign of easing—the main gate and service exits stayed bolted, and patrols of guards and knights marched the perimeter in regular, methodical sweeps.

From time to time, a sentinel would pause and peer into the trees, as if scenting intrusion on the wind.

"Cr*p," Brone spat. "Did they know we were coming? Why else would they tighten security like this?"

His question came out more like a complaint than a query.

Derek studied the mansion’s high walls. Through the iron grating, he could make out two groups of royal guards gathered near the gate, preparing to change watch.

Compared to the last time the pair had slipped in disguised as labourers, the place looked more fortified now.

"Must be because of our last breach," the mage said. "That princess is still alive. They’re guarding her closely."

Brone snorted.

"If you’d seen the bloodstained clothes and armour left in that cottage, you’d swear she was dead. She sure is a stubborn survivor."

"Be glad she is," Derek replied. "We need her blood to sustain our work. The small amount we took before won’t last. Whether by trickery or force, we must take her alive."

"I know that," Brone snapped. "You’ve told me a hundred times. I’m nearly deaf to it. We’re here. What are we waiting for? Do you expect us to camp and wait them out?"

Derek folded his hands, unruffled.

"Patience. If you rush in now, bleeding with fury, you’ll ruin everything. I know your new power is intoxicating, but dark magic is costly. It doesn’t replenish itself. There are well over a hundred royal guards inside the walls. Once our power depletes from our attack, they’ll overwhelm us before we can act."

Brone’s scowl deepened, but the logic sank in. He fell silent, the fire of impatience damped for the moment by the cold arithmetic of risk and reward.

"So what’s the plan?" the Bargesian leader asked.

Derek grinned. "You know me well enough by now."

Brains and brawn, the pair made an odd but effective team; Derek the schemer, Brone the executioner. They bickered often, but when it came to getting results, they fell into step.

"I’ve scouted the place using my camouflage skills these days," the mage continued. "The concealed door leading into the private library that you told last time isn’t well guarded."

Brone’s eyes lit.

"Aha! I remember that door! The hidden passage will easily get us inside."

"From the look of the undergrowth, nobody’s checked it in ages," Derek said. "The guards don’t patrol that stretch. We can slip through, provided we handle one problem."

Brone arched a brow. "Which problem?"

"Everything near the passage is monitored," Derek explained. "Approaching directly will get us noticed. Even with disguises, it won’t be easy to get through. We need a diversion... something to draw their attention long enough for us to get in."

The Bargesian leader paused, chin in hand, eyes narrowing as if weighing half a dozen schemes at once. Then a slow smile unfurled across his face.

"I know just what’s needed!"

Right as he finished speaking, a carriage rattled past along the road, pulling towards the mansion’s main gate.

Both men snapped their heads to watch; the carriage bore the emblem of the royal infirmary.

The gatekeepers flung the heavy iron gates open, and the royal guards escorted the vehicle inside.

"Someone’s come," Derek observed, curiosity flickering across his face.

Brone snorted, lips curling. "Good. Let them waltz in. I’ll make sure they regret it."

***

[Meanwhile, inside the mansion...]

Athillia propped her chin in her palm, gazing at the chessboard with a look of weary boredom.

The days had dragged on endlessly since the lockdown began. No one inside the mansion was allowed beyond its towering walls.

Every window was shut tight, and every entrance was guarded around the clock. Only the knights and royal guards on duty were permitted to move freely.

Curfews were strict—once the sun went down, everyone was to remain in their chambers until morning.

"Ugh!" Athillia groaned, shoving the chessboard forward before slumping down, her forehead resting on the table.

Several chess pieces toppled over with soft clatters.

"Wait! I wasn’t finished!" Sylvia protested, clutching a bishop in her hand.

"It’s checkmate! I told you already, but you wouldn’t believe me," Athillia mumbled, her face still pressed against the table, cheek tilted sideways.

Sylvia huffed, crossing her arms in mock offence after putting down the bishop onto the table.

"That is so unprincess-like of you, slamming your head and scattering the board like that! You should at least let your opponent admit defeat first!"

Athillia raised her head slightly, resting her chin back on the table.

"I stopped being a princess the day I left Barges for good," she said, her tone flat. "And besides, you were taking forever to admit you’d lost, Sylvie."

"Hey! You don’t get to call me that!" Sylvia shot back, cheeks puffed. "Only Drystan can!"

Athillia lifted her head entirely this time, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I thought your newlywed phase was over," she teased. "Yet not a day goes by without you saying his name."

Sylvia’s eyes widened.

"Hah! And what about you? ’Eli this, Eli that’... You talk about him even more than I mention my husband! You even call him by his first name nowadays!"

The Bargesian princess’s face flushed a deep pink.

"He’s my chaperone! Of course I can call him by his first name. Anna said it’s fine!"

"Mm-hm, truly a chaperone," Sylvia said, waving a dismissive hand with a sly grin. "We all know how diligent he is. I saw him going to your chamber last night. Sir Henderson certainly takes his new duties very seriously."

"Don’t accuse him of misconduct! He only stood at the threshold of the chamber door!" Athillia protested, cheeks puffing slightly as she turned away. "I only asked for a glass of milk! I couldn’t sleep last night, so I requested him to bring me some. You know we’re not allowed to leave our chambers after curfew."

She peeked back at Sylvia, who was already giggling behind her hand.

"What about you, then?" Athillia shot back, narrowing her eyes. "If you saw us, that means you weren’t in your chamber either. Shouldn’t you have been there at that hour?"

"Drystan was having a headache while on duty last night," the noble lady replied. "So, I went to deliver some remedies to him."

Athillia smirked.

"How very devoted of you. Let’s hope he recognises your tender, loving care and rewards your sincerity by giving you the child your family so dearly wishes for," she remarked.

"Don’t wait up," the Bargesian Princess added with a mischievous glint.

Sylvia’s face turned crimson as Athillia burst into laughter, unable to resist teasing her friend further.

After all, the noble lady was the only one from their original trio—she, Meredith and Anna—who wasn’t yet with child.

"Stop teasing me!" Sylvia cried, swatting at the Bargesian Princess’s arm in embarrassment.

Her laughter had barely faded when Callis appeared at the doorway of the drawing room.

"Callis, you’re back!" Sylvia exclaimed eagerly, jumping to her feet the moment she saw the Mederian Princess.

"Hey, everyone!" Callis greeted warmly, waving a hand as she stepped in, her smile bright despite the fatigue in her eyes.

Athillia rose as well, her brows lifting in concern.

"What happened to you? You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, and your cheeks are all puffy! Haven’t you been getting any sleep?"

Instinctively, Callis touched her face, brushing her fingers over her cheek and temple. She realised she must’ve smudged her powder during the carriage ride back.

One of the assistant healers had helped her apply it to hide her tiredness from Rafe—but clearly, it hadn’t done much good.

"I guess I’m a bit tired, but not sleepy enough," she admitted with a faint smile. "I thought about heading to my chamber, but I already had a nap on the way home. I met Jessy at the portico, and she told me you ladies were here, so I came by to chat."

She took a seat near them, folding her hands neatly on her lap.

"Madam Collins is there?" Sylvia asked in surprise. She turned to Athillia with a worried look. "Aren’t we not supposed to go outside?"

The Bargesian Princess looked equally puzzled, but Callis quickly replied, "She took Rhen out. That poor puppy’s been restless these past few days, barking nonstop and scratching at the door. Jessy said it wouldn’t calm down, so she and Sir McQuinn took him for a walk."

Then, glancing between her friends, she added, "By the way, is it true we’re under lockdown? The royal guards at the gate mentioned it when I arrived," asked Callis.

"Yes. After Anna found out what happened, she immediately ordered a full lockdown. We’re not even allowed to set foot in the garden," Sylvia explained.

"Wait, what do you mean by ’Anna found out’?" Callis’s eyes widened.

"The injured tribesmen," Sylvia said. "You went with His Highness the Grand Duke and your husband to treat them, didn’t you? I was about to ask for an update. Has His Highness returned too?"

"Haa... I suppose the news has spread already," Callis sighed. "I’m not surprised since Anna is sharp. She must’ve realised something was going on. But no, His Highness and Rafe haven’t returned yet. It’s just me."

Her answer made both ladies sink back into their seats in disappointment.

"Then how are the tribesmen faring?" Sylvia asked.

"The burns have all healed, but they were still unconscious when I left," the Mederian Princess replied. "Rafe told me to come back first since they no longer needed healing magic and should wake soon."

"Thank goodness! You did wonderfully, Callis! Dame Verns will be thrilled when she hears this!" Sylvia exclaimed.

"Oh, don’t thank me," Callis said with a modest smile. "It was all His Highness’s mana. I only channelled it to the tribesmen. His Highness is resting now. The spell drained him badly, so he needs time to recover. Once the tribesmen wake, he’ll question them about what happened and who led the attack. That might take a while. So, I doubt he and Rafe will return soon."

"Hmm... I guess we’ll remain under lockdown then," Athillia muttered, her shoulders slumping. "Anna said it’ll only be lifted once His Highness returns."

Now that the Bargesian Princess served as Anna’s lady-in-waiting, she no longer addressed the Grand Duke as ’Lord Kyren’. She had learned that using a man’s first name implied a closeness reserved for family and lovers.

"Come on, don’t be so downhearted," Sylvia coaxed. "It’s only for our safety until His Highness comes back."

"I know..." Athillia sighed. "It’s just... I haven’t left the mansion since I arrived, except for my introduction day. I was hoping to see a bit of the city before we departed for the duchy."

"Aha... so you wanted to go out with your chaperone, didn’t you?" Sylvia teased.

Athillia’s cheeks flushed scarlet. No matter how she tried to deny it, the ladies already saw through her heart. They knew how she felt about Eli.

Still, she didn’t take it to heart. Her new companions had accepted her completely, supporting her in every way.

She was grateful. After all, it was Meredith who had persuaded Anna to let her stay in the mansion.

Without the ’punishment’, she would never have had the chance to be near the young knight who had captured her heart.

"Where are Anna, Mer, and Emily?" Callis asked.

Their little circle felt incomplete without them.

"Anna hardly comes down these days," Sylvia replied. "She’s been resting in her chamber most of the time. Same with Mer and Emily. They are both at their quarters. The pregnancy fatigue, you know how it is."

"Ah, right," Callis nodded in understanding.

"Well... since we’ve got some updates, I’d better bring the news to Dame Verns," Sylvia said, rising from her seat. "She’s been anxious and barely keeping herself together, worrying about her people’s condition."

Just as she stood, the noble lady faltered slightly, feeling a little vibration under her shoes.

"What was that?" she asked, glancing around in alarm.

"What’s what?" Athillia frowned, her brows knitting in confusion, while Callis frowned, sensing something out of the ordinary.

Then the ground trembled again, this time more distinctly. The chess pieces rattled against the board, and the bishop teetered before rolling off the edge and clinking onto the marble floor.

Sylvia’s eyes widened.

"Did you feel that?"

"I did," Callis said, already pushing to her feet, alert.

Athillia nodded too. Her sharp gaze swept the ceiling, the walls, every corner of the drawing chamber.

And then it came.

’Boom!’

The entire mansion quaked violently, as though struck by a massive cannonball. The chandelier above them swayed wildly, crystal droplets clattering against one another.

Tapestries billowed from the shockwave; a porcelain vase tipped off its pedestal and shattered into pieces.

Athillia grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself.

"What the h*ll was that?!" she cried.

"I swear, that wasn’t me!" Callis shouted over the echoing rumble. "I haven’t touched a barbecue pit since last time!"

Despite the panic, Sylvia blinked at her in disbelief.

"You think now’s the time to bring that up?!"

For a moment, all three were shocked and puzzled, standing still.

Was this an attack?

That seemed impossible. The mansion was heavily fortified and under strict lockdown.

Who could have possibly broken through its defences?

Moreover, they were in Gantz, the city of Cassian. Any threats would have been quickly dealt with by the city’s patrol units.

Then another explosion split the air.

’Boom!’

And another...

’Badaboom!’

The blast hurled the curtains against the windowpanes and sent books tumbling from the shelves.

The deafening explosion left their ears ringing as dust sifted down from the rafters. From the corridors beyond came screams, pounding footsteps, and the rising chorus of panic.

"Everyone, get to safety!" Callis commanded. "Don’t come out until it’s over!"

Without waiting for protest, she bolted towards the door to find out what was happening.

The hallway beyond was a storm of confusion. Servants and guards running in every direction, shouting and calling for help.

A tray of tea crashed to the floor, spilling scalding liquid across the carpet. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke.

Callis seized a passing royal guard by the arm.

"What’s happening?" she demanded.

"Several explosions... at the east tower!" he shouted back, breathless. "It’s burning!"

"What?!"

The warning bell began to toll—a resounding, resonant clang that echoed through every hall. Without hesitation, Callis sprinted towards the east wing.

As she emerged into the courtyard, the sight before her stole her breath.

Flames roared skyward from the eastern tower, their glow staining the winter sky a furious red-orange.

The snow around the base hissed and melted into steaming puddles, unable to quench the fire. Guards shouted orders, forming lines to pass buckets of snow and water, while others dragged wounded men away from the inferno; some half-burned, their armour blackened and smoking.

The air was choked with ash. Sparks danced like fireflies, carried on the icy wind.

It was illogical. The mansion was encased in frost, and their breath fogged in the freezing air, yet the fire blazed more fiercely and intensely than a typical one, extending towards the buildings in the east wings.

A sickening chill crawled down Callis’s spine.

’Such a flame... in the heart of winter?’

Something was terribly and unnaturally wrong. The blaze clawing at the eastern tower wasn’t ordinary fire; it moved too fast, too hungrily, as if it were alive.

Then it struck her.

That part of the mansion housed the knights’ quarters, both the bachelors’ and the married couples’.

Her breath caught, panic slicing through her chest.

"Mer! Emily!" Callis gasped, the names escaping her lips before she even realised she’d spoken.