CHAPTER 73: CHAPTER 74: THE TRAP IN VELVET (PART 2)

The throne room was carved from shadows and light—gilded pillars rising like the ribs of some ancient beast, chandeliers swaying under the weight of crystal teardrops. The great banners of the realm hung like silent sentinels above, their embroidered gold catching in the flicker of torchlight. The floor itself was a mirror-polished mosaic, depicting the crown’s conquest over centuries—a history written not in ink, but in blood.

Every noble in attendance stood in perfect stillness, the air thick with unsaid words. Their silence wasn’t reverence; it was the taut stillness of predators sizing up prey. The rustle of silk sleeves, the faint creak of gilded armor, the clink of a distant goblet—each sound struck like a needle against the brittle quiet.

And there, in the middle of it all, stood Kai.

They watched him as if they were the wolves and he the lone stag brought into their territory, too far from the tree line to run, too exposed to hide. He felt their eyes the way one feels the press of steel at the back—cool, inevitable, waiting for the push.

From her throne of obsidian and ivory, the Queen studied him with an expression like the slow curling of smoke. Her eyes were jewels in shadow—hard, gleaming, and cold enough to cut. Her lips curved in a smile that held no warmth, only the careful geometry of a blade being turned in a craftsman’s hand.

"Lord Ashura," she said, her voice pitched just soft enough that the stillness around her became an amplifier. "The crown owes you its gratitude for your... recent services. It is only fitting that we honor you in return."

Murmurs rippled through the court like a shiver through tall grass. A few gasps of disbelief broke the composure of lesser courtiers. Others whispered with thinly veiled envy, their voices knives sliding across whetstones. The nobles’ eyes gleamed—not with celebration for him, but with the morbid curiosity one has for a man stepping onto thin ice.

"A banquet," the Queen continued, her tone almost playful. "To be held this very night. In your name. The entire court will attend."

Her words tasted of perfume and poison. She didn’t need to explain the rest. Kai knew the stories; so did everyone here. Every banquet in the last decade had ended with fewer guests than it began with.

He bowed just enough to be polite—measured, deliberate, betraying no more deference than the law demanded. "I am... honored, Your Majesty."

The bow concealed the slight tightening of his jaw, the faint narrowing of his gaze. Inside, he felt the weight at the back of his neck—the quiet certainty of a snare already biting into flesh.

The Queen, in her languid grace, dismissed him with a lazy flick of her jeweled fingers. "Enjoy the evening, Lord Ashura. It may be one to remember."

He turned, boots whispering against the mosaic floor, and walked the length of the hall between columns of nobility. Their eyes followed him in synchronized hunger—like hunting hounds tracking the slow approach of their meal.

That was when she appeared.

Lyra.

She stood at the Queen’s right hand as if she had been carved into the dais itself, her gown a waterfall of crimson silk that clung and then drifted like a living flame. Her golden hair had been drawn back into a braid woven with gold-thread ribbon, forming a coronet of its own. She did not shift her weight, did not even glance at the nobles whispering in her periphery—her focus was entirely on him.

She waited until he was close enough for the subtle scent of her perfume—warm spice laced with the faintest breath of smoke—to curl around him. Her lips parted just enough for the words to slip through, low enough to be drowned by the drone of the court.

"One wrong step, Ashura... and I’ll be the one to end you."

It wasn’t the words that chilled him. It was the tone—gentle, almost tender, like a lover tracing the line of a throat before the kiss... or the cut. Her eyes did not blink. In them was the truth: they were no longer two shadows playing their private game. Here, she wore the Queen’s colors, and that meant she held the shield of royal favor.

A game on her terms.

He didn’t stop. He didn’t slow. He passed her as if her voice were nothing but the echo of a memory, though the words etched themselves into the back of his mind with ink that would never fade.

Across the hall, Velis caught his eye. The captain’s jaw was a hard, silent warning, the faintest tilt of her chin urging caution. On the far side, Astra lounged against a marble pillar, one leg crossed over the other, her expression a study in mockery. Yet she tilted her head—just slightly—toward the far servants’ corridor.

And that was when he saw them.

Three masked figures, black as cut obsidian, slipping through the service entrance with the silent grace of creatures that did not belong to the light. No insignia. No court colors.

The Queen was still watching him.

Her fingers rested on the carved armrest of her throne, drumming in a rhythm so faint it might have been mistaken for idleness. But Kai knew better. It wasn’t random. It was a beat.

A countdown.

He drew a slow breath through his nose. The trap wasn’t closing.

It was already closed.

The walls of the throne room might as well have been the ribs of a cage. Nobles standing shoulder to shoulder formed the bars, their polite masks hiding the sharpened edges of ambition and survival. The Queen sat at the heart of it, smiling like a spider who had woven the threads years before her prey even stepped into the web.

Kai didn’t let his gaze flick toward the servants’ corridor again. He knew better than to betray awareness. He moved toward the edge of the gathering with the same controlled ease he had always used when walking the thin line between court and gallows.

His mind worked through the possibilities—poison in the wine, steel in the shadows, a public accusation dressed in royal silk. Every option ended the same way: with his name cut out of the annals of the court like a rotted page.

But he wasn’t here to survive. Not only that.

No, he was here to win.

Bonus Scene – The Hallway Between Shadows

Kai didn’t head for the banquet hall immediately. The air in the throne room had been suffocating—thick with unspoken threats—and he needed a few breaths somewhere without all those eyes drilling into him.

But the shadows in the west corridor weren’t much kinder.

Velis was waiting there, her arms folded, her dark leather armor catching glints of torchlight. She didn’t waste time on greetings.

"They’re already inside," she said in a low voice.

Kai’s steps slowed. "The masked figures?"

Velis nodded once. "Not just assassins. They’re wearing the Raven Veil. Old guild work—meaning someone paid for professionals. Not amateurs."

That explained the precision in their movements. "And you’re sure they’re here for me?"

Velis’s eyes narrowed. "In this court? Every blade points somewhere. Tonight, more than one’s aimed at you." She leaned closer. "The Queen’s little smile... Astra was right. This is a setup, Kai. The only thing we don’t know is whether you’re the bait, or the target."

Footsteps approached from the far end of the hall. Astra herself emerged from the dim, her sapphire eyes glinting. She tossed a sugared date into her mouth, as if they weren’t discussing murder in progress.

"Both," she said around the bite. "He’s bait to draw out whoever’s bold enough to make a move—and the target if no one does. Either way, someone bleeds before dessert."

Velis shot Astra a look. "And you’re... calm about that?"

Astra’s smirk was faint but sharp. "Because I’m not planning to let dessert get cold."

Kai exhaled, scanning the shadows at the edges of the corridor. Somewhere, out there in the tangle of nobles and assassins, was the first hand that would move.

All he had to do was be faster.

And make sure it wasn’t his blood they spilled first.

Next Chapter Preview – "The Banquet of Knives"

The Queen’s banquet begins under glittering chandeliers, the scent of roasted pheasant and spiced wine filling the hall. Nobles smile with gilded malice, their jeweled hands concealing sharper intentions.

Kai takes his seat at the Queen’s left—an honor or a death sentence, depending on the night. Velis scans the shadows, Astra chats with dangerous charm, and Lyra’s gaze never leaves him.

Halfway through the Queen’s toast, a wine glass shatters at the far end of the table. Someone’s already moved. The first play of the night has begun... and every guest here is either predator or prey.

Call to Action (CTA) – Chapter 74

The trap is set, the court is watching, and the Queen has stacked the pieces against Kai. But in a room full of assassins, the first mistake could also be the last.

🔥 Continue now to see who strikes first—and who doesn’t live to regret it!