Meanwhile, almost at the same time Maria's breath finally slipped away, something stirred far from Ashford, in the freezing castle of Snowland.
Night still clung to the walls of Bianca Woodland's chamber. The curtains barely moved. The air felt thick, unmoving, as though the world itself had paused to listen to something unseen.
She slept on her side, one hand resting loosely over her stomach. Eight months heavy. The child within her had been restless all night, turning, pressing, reminding her of its presence.
Then the window creaked, not loud, not forced, but enough to give ways.
A white dove slipped through the narrow opening, its wings barely making a sound as it glided into the room. It did not flutter aimlessly. It did not hesitate. It landed softly on the edge of her bed. Its claws pressed into the fabric, still, and watching.
Its eyes glowed blue immediately. Not the soft blue of the sky or water. Something deeper. Something that did not belong to the realm of men.
The bird tilted its head slowly. Then it stepped forward, and rested on Bianca's stomach.
Bianca's body did not react at first. Sleep still held her. But the moment the dove lowered its beak and touched her skin, everything changed.
The child inside her twisted violently. Not a gentle shift. Not the slow roll of an unborn child finding comfort. This was sudden, sharp, and alive.
Bianca's body jerked. Her eyes flew open as a gasp tore out of her throat. Her hands shot to her stomach instantly, fingers pressing down as if to steady whatever was happening inside her.
"What…" Her voice broke.
The dove remained still for a heartbeat longer, its glowing eyes locked onto her face.
Then it lifted its wings, and flew.
It did not rush. It did not panic. It simply left, slipping back through the window like it had never been there.
Bianca pushed herself up, breathing hard. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Sweat gathered along her skin despite the coolness of the room.
Her stomach moved again, not violently this time.
But stronger than before. Alive in a way that unsettled her.
She pressed both hands against it, her brows pulling together. The sensation did not fade. It lingered. A strange surge, like something had been poured into her veins.
Power, it was raw, and unfamiliar. Her fingers tightened slightly. "What is the meaning of this?" she whispered.
No answer came. Only the quiet. Only the echo of something she could not name.
Meanwhile, at Ashford, the silence did not return. Not after what had been done.
The great hall that had once been filled with laughter now reeked of blood and spilled wine. Bodies lay scattered across the stone floor, twisted in unnatural positions. Blood stretched across the ground, pooling beneath tables, soaking into cloth and wood.
The last screams had already faded. What remained was quieter. But no less heavy.
The Kenwool soldiers moved through the hall with purpose. No hesitation. No mercy. Those who still breathed were quickly silenced. A blade here. A final gasp there.
Servants tried to flee. They did not make it far. One by one, they fell. Every guard who had stood under Drexo's banner. Every man who had laughed hours ago. Every loyal voice was all gone.
All except the few Felix had hidden away. He stood at the edge of the hall, unmoving. His gaze passed over the bodies slowly. He did not rush it. He could not.
He knew these men. Not by name alone. By memory, by shared moments. Training under the same sun. Drinking from the same cups. Laughing over things that now felt distant, and irrelevant.
His jaw tightened. His chest felt heavier with each face he recognized.
A man he had sparred with. Another who had once saved him in battle. All of them was gone. He did not speak, he only watched in pain. He understood that his house must do what it has to do. But see these people dead broke his heart in a way.
Across the hall, Friya stood still. Her eyes were fixed on Drexo's body. He lay where he had fallen. Blood had already begun to darken against his skin. His face, once filled with life, now carried nothing.
She stared at him for a long time. Then her legs gave way. She sank slowly to the ground, as though her body could no longer carry the weight of what she was seeing. Her hands rested weakly on her lap. The tears came quietly at first, then steadily.
Frida noticed. She stepped toward her, her steps measured, her face unreadable. When she stopped beside her, she looked down at her sister. "I thought this is what you wanted."
Friya did not look up immediately. Her shoulders trembled slightly. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress. "It is what I wanted," she said finally. Her voice was low, and uneven. "But i loved him. it hurt to see him gone."
The words lingered.
Frida's jaw tightened slightly. Her eyes shifted briefly toward Drexo's body, then back to Friya. There was no softness in her gaze, only resolve. "Brace yourself," she said. Her tone did not rise. It did not comfort either. "Drexo is gone."
She paused.
"You should be thinking about your union with Robert Rendell."
Her eyes hardened further. "He is your man now."
Friya's tears did not stop. But she said nothing.
On the other side of the hall, Felix finally moved. He stepped carefully between the bodies, his boots brushing against blood-stained stone. His eyes continued to scan the fallen.
Each step felt heavier than the last. His mind refused to stay quiet. It replayed everything.
The laughter, the music. The moment it all broke. He exhaled slowly. But it did nothing.
Then he heard it, Fabio's voice. Calm, and commanding. It cut through the air, drawing his attention instantly.
Felix turned.
Fabio stood near the far end of the hall, speaking to Felicia Kenwool. His posture remained steady, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "Go over to Cliffland," he said.
Felix stilled.
"Sack the city."
The words landed hard. "Kill Cedric Ferran." Felix's fingers twitched slightly. "And anybody that is loyal to Drexo, and Maria."
He paused.
"Take it over till I arrive."
Felicia bowed her head without hesitation. "Yes, my lord."
She turned immediately, already moving. No doubt, no question, just action.
Felix's heart clenched. Tight, and painful. His thoughts shifted instantly to Helen, his secret lover.
Her face appeared in his mind without effort. Her voice. The way she looked at him. "They don't know," he whispered under his breath.
His body moved before he could think further. He turned sharply and left the hall.
The corridors felt longer than before. Every step he took echoed. He reached his chamber quickly, pushing the door open with more force than he intended. It struck the wall with a dull sound.
He didn't stop. He moved straight to the table, grabbing a piece of parchment. His hands were not steady, but he forced them to move.
Quick, and direct. No wasted words. The ink scratched against the surface as he wrote.
No greetings, and no explanations. Just the warning. Urgent, and final.
He folded the note immediately. No second reading. Then he turned and hurried out again.
The ravens stirred as he approached. Some shifted along their perches. Others remained still, watching with dark, knowing eyes.
He moved straight to one. one of the birds marked for Cliffland. His fingers worked quickly, tying the note securely to its leg. He paused for a brief moment, his hand lingering against its feathers. "I hope you are fast enough," he murmured.
Then he released it. The raven spread its wings and took off instantly, disappearing into the sky beyond.
Felix stood there, watching until it was gone. "I hope she will listen," he said quietly. "And vacate the city before Felicia arrives."
The bird flew through the night. No rest, no pause. The sky shifted from darkness to the pale light of morning as it approached Cliffland.
It did not circle. It did not hesitate. It flew straight to its destination.
Helen's window. The raven landed there, claws gripping the edge firmly. It let out a low sound, just enough to break the stillness of the room.
Inside, Helen stirred. Her eyes opened slowly. For a brief moment, she did not understand what she was seeing.
Then she sat up. The bird remained still, and waiting.
She moved toward it, her expression softening slightly. A faint smile touched her lips.
"Felix," she murmured. Her fingers reached for the note, carefully untying it from the bird's leg. "He must be trying to gist me how the party was going."
There was a lightness in her voice. Something unguarded.
She opened the note. Her eyes moved across the words.
Once, then again. The smile vanished. Color drained from her face. Her fingers trembled slightly. "No…" she whispered.
Her breath caught. "No. No. No!" Her voice rose suddenly, breaking the quiet of the room as she rushed to her feet.
She moved quickly. From one room to another. Doors opened, voices stirred. The girls woke, confusion clear in their expressions. "What is going on?" one asked.
Another stepped forward. "What happened?" Helen did not answer immediately. She handed them the note. One by one, they read it. And one by one, their expressions changed.
Shock, then fear. Then something heavier. Their eyes reddened. "The king…" one of them whispered. Another covered her mouth. "The commander…"
Helen stepped back slightly, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Her voice came out sharp, and final. "The king is dead."
Silence fell.
"The commander is dead." No one moved. Then she drew a breath. And forced the words out. "We must leave the city immediately."