The moment Cassian passed the gates of the Black Fortress, the sharp copper scent of both fresh and dried blood struck him. The fortress was perpetually steeped in a chaos of odors that assaulted the hyper-acute senses of a fire dragon such as himself, yet it had always been blood that prevailed as the dominant note.
It usually drifted from the training grounds, spilled by clumsy knights during drills, or from monster ichor left crusted on blades too carelessly cleaned. Today, however, there was a singular scent threading the air, one that had never lingered here before.
It carried the unmistakable trace of the House of Solari, the royal bloodline of Aurellanza. Only one soul within this accursed fortress could bleed such a fragrance. Apparently, his wife had proved foolish enough to injure herself during training.
The more Cassian thought of Herminia Solari, the more he felt the chill of the ice bath evaporating like mist against flame. By the time he reached the Archive Wing, his face had hardened into a simmering scowl.
Along the corridors, servants and guards scattered like dry leaves from his path. None were foolish enough to draw the King's attention when irritation burned so openly in his eyes.
BANG!
The doors to the Great Library were blasted open rather than simply pushed aside. The impact thundered through the Archive Wing.
From behind his desk, Nero shot Cassian a murderous glare. Not only had Cassian interrupted what had been Nero's peaceful reading session, he had also torn the library doors clean off their hinges.
Still, Nero proved himself a typical earth dragon. He managed to suppress the urge to snap, though his face twitched with the effort, and the sight lifted Cassian's mood slightly. Even so, when Nero spoke, his voice carried the same nagging tone Cassian genuinely despised.
"What is it now?" Nero asked. "I do not recall granting you any appointment. Why have you come to dismantle my peace?"
Throwing himself onto the couch, which was the only piece of furniture he actually tolerated in this room, Cassian began to state his grievance with uncharacteristic solemnity.
"The universe is playing another cruel, tasteless joke on me, and I find the punchline utterly offensive. Something is seriously wrong with my wife."
Nero barely blinked. His blue eyes remained annoyingly still as he stared at Cassian. The silence between them stretched for ten agonizing seconds until, at last, Nero managed a response.
"That... that's it?"
Cassian's brow shot up at the underwhelming reaction. He suddenly felt it was high time he considered erasing the Great Library from the Black Fortress blueprints. "What do you mean, 'that's it'?!" he snapped. "Is that not infuriating enough a matter?"
Nero's eyelids lowered by a fraction. Instead of answering at once, he pinched the bridge of his nose and began kneading his temples, as though restraining the urge to bury Cassian beneath a localized landslide.
Dryly, Nero replied, "You have one minute to state exactly what is wrong with your wife, before I kick you out of my lair and submit a formal request to the treasury for the replacement of my doors."
Relieved that Nero was finally paying attention to the gravity of his plight, Cassian leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. He smoothed the front of his silk doublet, his irritation sharpening into something almost indignant.
"I suspect my wife has suffered a total collapse of her psyche," Cassian began grimly. "After I ceased indulging her with the flawless display of husbandly devotion I once generously extended, she appears to have unraveled entirely. She is now demanding to join monster raids, of all things, as though risking her life might somehow reclaim my attention."
Nero stared at Cassian for another long moment. "I regret to dismantle your delusions of grandeur," he muttered, "but I am afraid the issue runs considerably deeper than your supposed withdrawal of affection."
Cassian's eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean? What other explanation could there possibly be?"
"Listen carefully," Nero replied, folding his hands atop his desk. "Roughly a week ago, your wife paid a visit to my lair."
Cassian went utterly still. For a heartbeat, he wondered if his ears had finally begun to fail him, though he was practically in his prime, being only two thousand four hundred and thirty years young. But Nero held his gaze and gave a single, confirming nod. For once, there was no mockery in Nero's expression, only the sober steadiness typical of the earth-typed.
"My wife? Here?" Cassian demanded, his voice thinning with disbelief. "For what possible purpose? Did she come to admire the masonry?"
"Only the gods know," Nero said with a faint shrug. "I was bored and had attuned myself to the earth surrounding my lair. The moment I sensed her presence, I returned at once. We spoke for some time. She was insufferable. So I told her of the truth, that Atmospheric Sickness is slowly killing her."
By then, Cassian's posture had become as brittle as glass. He looked as though he were physically wrestling with the air, his fingers twitching against an invisible hilt.
Only minutes later did he manage to spill out some words. "And how did she react?"
Nero's gaze drifted, as if replaying the moment. "She said she wasn't going to die. She said she would live, and that she would rule Ferramonte as its one and only Queen."
"No," Cassian muttered, the word escaping him before he could catch it.
Nero raised a brow, seemingly having a sense of déjà vu. "No, what?"
Cassian's voice was sharp with rejection. "There's no way in hell my wife would say something like that."
The Orchid of Aurellanza, the princess he had sworn himself to, had been timid and demure. From the moment Cassian first saw Herminia Solari, she had always kept her gaze lowered. Her voice had been soft and trembling, her body stiff and fragile whenever he touched her.
That princess was not someone who would utter words so audacious. Nor would she dare take up such a dangerous hobby as a monster hunt. Throughout their weeks-long journey to Ferramonte, Herminia Solari had only ever spoken sweet, polite, obedient, and mind-numbingly dull things.
Finding the disconnect strange, Nero asked, "Was your wife not always insufferable?"
"She was only boring," Cassian said, shaking his head as he stood to pace the room. "And her being boring was far more insufferable."
And yet, the more Cassian combed through his memories of their journey, the more he realized there had been one moment where Herminia had spoken entirely out of character.
It was when they had stopped at a small village near Aurellanza's border. She had buried her face against his chest and said, with chilling certainty, that a piece of Aurellanza territory, a name he couldn't even recall now, would one day belong to Ferramonte.
Nero watched Cassian, his unease growing as he saw the gears turning in Cassian's head. "No, Cassian. Don't tell me you find her interesting now."
"I do," Cassian admitted plainly. He didn't even bother to soothe Nero's mounting dread.
Nero eyed his friend with the look one might give a lit fuse on a keg of explosives. "Cassian. Listen to me. She isn't going to become the Black Mage. Don't go getting ideas."
"Perhaps not," Cassian agreed, his lips curving into a smirk that was as elegant as it was lethal. "But my wife is most certainly concealing something from me, and I intend to uncover exactly what it is."