Chapter 115 – End

The Event officially ended almost an hour later.

Emrys couldn’t find his space ring no matter how thoroughly he searched, making him clench his jaw in bitter frustration as he thought of everything he had stored inside it.

The truly special artifacts and potions weren’t there, but a Tier Two ACS was. That alone was a loss significant enough to make his heart tighten with indignation, already dreading the moment the Fifth Elder — who had generously given him the stone — learned of this.

Emrys sighed, bracing himself for a sermon that might never end. Then he shook his head, decided to return home, and went to check on his butler first.

His departure prompted Love de Bayard to leave as well, finding no further reason to stay.

Klaus watched her go, and for a brief moment he debated internally whether to approach her and address what had happened throughout the entire event.

He shook his head immediately after, his face hardening.

There was nothing to discuss.

And Klaus refused to humiliate himself further by being the one to seek her out, when she was clearly the one who owed him that step after what she had done.

At that moment, without informing his family, Klaus made a quiet decision: he would no longer pursue Love de Bayard. His honour mattered more to him than an interest that was plainly not returned.

He closed his heart.

And coincidentally, as he did, his eyes settled on Natalia taking her leave, no longer able to remain in the same room as both the man who had rejected her and the woman his family had chosen for him.

For the first time since they had known each other, Klaus understood a part of Natalia that had always been obvious, but that one can only truly grasp after living something similar.

He exhaled slowly. His Wind Spirit cheered from somewhere inside him.

During that same time, Cassius lost consciousness entirely. His body gave out against Isolde, falling weakly into her.

The poison, the blood loss, and the repeated self-detonations he had put himself through to amplify his power had taken an enormous toll on both his body and mind. He could no longer hold his eyes open no matter how much he wanted to.

Isolde said nothing at the sight of it. She gently took her husband’s body into her arms, and walked toward the exit of the Hall, ignoring everyone around her entirely.

Before she reached the door, Klaus ran up beside her and managed to press his number into her free hand for Cassius to call when he woke up.

Afterward, the Heir of Handoff could no longer stay. His maid had regained consciousness and his mother was already calling him home.

He was not alone in that.

The other remaining Heirs slowly began to prepare for their own departures, having participated in an event none of them would ever forget. An event that had left all of them with far more motivation concerning the Academy Entrance a month away than they had arrived with.

They all understood now how dangerously lacking they were.

And every one of them — even those who had never cared about becoming Palatine — resolved at minimum not to embarrass themselves on a day the entire Kingdom would be watching.

And so the Heirs walked out through the Hall’s gate with their maids and butlers, completely different people from the ones who had walked in.

With that, even though the Royal Event had unfolded nothing like anyone had planned — thanks to a terrorist attack — its purpose had been perfectly fulfilled:

To make each heir understand who they were going to be fighting and competing against for five years, inside an environment that did not know the meaning of mercy.

The Academy existed to forge the young into capable individuals able to protect the Kingdom from the harrowing world outside it.

No mercy could be extended in that process. For mercy on the young would only teach them to expect it as the norm.

It was not.

And so, one by one, they all disappeared.

Keisha had wanted to stay, for Cassius had promised her a talk. But it was her father himself who came to collect her, with a frost-like intensity that left no room for negotiation.

She was dejected and visibly annoyed the entire way back, ignoring her father’s attempts to ask if she was alright.

Anesthesia walked deeper into the palace alongside Raven and Esmeray, toward their rooms.

At the front of the Hall’s door stood Sarah waiting patiently for her prince, a dried, bloodied scar across her head.

Raven barely acknowledged her state. Sarah showed no reaction to his indifference.

She simply fell into step behind them, face neutral, intending to carry out her duties as a maid without fuss.

But inwardly, Sarah couldn’t stop thinking about her Lord and his current state.

She had caught a brief glimpse of him earlier — held in the arms of who she assumed was his wife — being carried inside the palace.

She had wanted to approach, to return the Master Key and the Cloak of Invisibility her Lord had entrusted to her. But his wife had clearly been in a hurry, her face tight with worry.

Sarah gave up on it for now, promising herself to seek him out later in the night, when she had a moment free.

And she would have that moment free.

Because no matter what...

She would not be a bed warmer anymore!

’I promise!’ She declared firmly inside her mind, trying to summon a confidence she didn’t quite feel yet.

But she knew she couldn’t afford to fall back into old habits. If she ever did...if she ever disappointed Lord Seraph...

Sarah of Secrecy shuddered at the thought, her mind conjuring Cassius’s face and those intense crimson eyes that seemed forged from the very first blood ever spilled in the world.

So red. So beautiful.

She exhaled quietly, looked at the back of her Prince, bit her lower lip, and muttered under her breath...

’...I might need to use my own fingers for a while.’

...

Deep into Saturday night — a night that showed every sign of being a long one — an Apothecary sent by Morenna arrived in Cassius’s room to tend to him.

She was a weathered old woman with a shaved head, wearing bracelets of bone and clothes stitched from monster hide.

She worked efficiently, restoring Cassius to a stable condition with both a Tier Four Healing Potion and a Tier Four Blood Replenishment Potion.

The old woman also wanted to treat the Tier Five poison left behind by the Child of the Red Moon. It was a completely new category that required a specific antidote to counter properly.

But Isolde, who had been present throughout, informed her of Cassius’s wishes.

He had told her while they were dancing that he didn’t want to completely heal the poison. Isolde had been surprised by the request, but after making certain it was a deliberate choice and not the rambling of someone half-delirious, she had accepted it without making a thing of it.

She knew Cassius kept many secrets to himself. She also knew that, when he was ready, he would share them with her.

Isolde didn’t mind waiting. Patience was one thing she had never lacked.

The Apothecary left the poison where it was — knowing it would no longer spread with a Tier Four Healing Potion already in his system — and departed shortly after.

Isolde remained, sitting at the edge of the crimson bed, looking at the sleeping face of Cassius with a quiet smile.

The memory of their dance was still turning inside her mind, giving her a strange warmth she didn’t quite know what to do with.

Watching him, an idea struck her without warning. Without hesitation, and with an excitement she couldn’t entirely explain, Isolde took out her phone and began taking pictures of his sleeping face.

’He is really cute!’

She thought that with a wide smile, filling her phone with pictures taken from every possible angle. Once satisfied, she sat back, face wearing a smile that had no business being this large.

She began scrolling through them, trying to decide which one should become her new wallpaper.

’Hm. I actually like my current one though.’ She mused, seeing Cassius’s familiar annoyed expression with her legs propped across him covering the screen. ’But I need a proper one. Maybe we could actually celebrate our wedding properly. Nobles don’t usually bother, only commoners spend money and time on such things. But... why not? I want an official wedding with him.’

That longing settled over her steadily, slowly taking over her mind.

’And then maybe... just maybe after the official wedding we could also... I mean, yes, we could... well, he is my husband, right? We... that would be normal. I mean... yes, if he wished to. Not that I particularly want to. But him... yes... if he wanted... yes...’

The further her thoughts went in that direction, the redder her face became, as though every drop of blood in her body had decided to congregate there at once.

She really couldn’t stop herself from flustering whenever this particular subject came up. And yet, embarrassed as she was, Isolde found herself unable to stop thinking about it...anticipating and dreading it in equal measure.

’I wonder... would it feel—!’

TOK! TOK!

Isolde nearly jumped, heart lurching hard against her chest, her train of thought cut brutally short by two quiet knocks at the door.

She steadied herself, exhaled, turned toward the door with her brows furrowed.

"Yes?" She called out.

The door yawned open immediately. Meadow Wealth stepped inside in her beautiful robe, closed the door behind her, and let her pink eyes settle first on the sleeping Cassius, then on Isolde, whom she recognized at once.

Even so...

"I believe this is our first time meeting." Meadow said, pushing her glasses correctly up her nose. "I am Meadow Wealth. Cassius has told me a great deal about you."

"Isolde Amaris." Isolde replied, nodding. "Pleased to finally meet you. I have wanted to speak with you since Cassius told me you accepted our proposal."

Meadow nodded, walked a few paces closer, then stopped at a respectful distance. "I indeed accepted. And I have already started. All the documents needed to officially register Devil’s Advocate as a Company are prepared. I simply need to pass them to my second brother for his signature. However, before that, we need a certain amount of money in the Company’s bank account."

She smiled pleasantly. "I don’t mind providing it."

Isolde tilted her head. "Oh really?"

"Aye."

"How much are we talking about?"

"Hm." Meadow considered it with a slight shrug, entirely unbothered. "Around fifteen million SN, I would guess. It hardly matters."

Isolde’s lips twitched, and she needed to exercise a considerable degree of inner restraint not to curse aloud or roll her eyes at that response.

"Then we owe you our thanks." She said at last. "We certainly don’t have that kind of liquidity at the moment."

"It’s fine." Meadow nodded. "That is exactly why I offered."

"Is there anything particular you want in return?" Isolde asked, still unused to receiving something so casually, even if, given Meadow’s position within their new Sect, it was entirely reasonable.

"Something?" Meadow echoed, then shook her head. "Not really. Just remind Cassius that tomorrow is Sunday. And that he needs to honour his promises as a Great Editor."

Isolde paused at that, then laughed with genuine amusement. "I will."

Meadow’s phone vibrated suddenly. She glanced at it and her lips twitched.

"It’s late. I must go." She said, then, without ceremony, plunged her hand between her own breasts.

Isolde raised an eyebrow.

Meadow ignored the look, lips trembling slightly with embarrassment, and retrieved something from between them.

A blue ring with golden stripes. Faint crackling lightning coiled around it like a whirlwind.

"Here." She said, extending it toward Isolde with barely disguised discomfort.

"And this is...?" Isolde began, confused, though something about it struck her as oddly familiar as she reached out and took it.

"What else?" Meadow shrugged, nodding toward the ring with the faintest trace of amusement.

"It is Emrys Stormblessed’s ring."

—End of Chapter 115—