The Empress' Descent

Chapter 24 - Encounters in the Hallway

My plans were coming along smoothly. The Wraiths met every now and then. And Kazriel was overjoyed with how his implementations bore desirable results.

A message had arrived in my bedroom this morning. It bore no name. Only a six-word message scribbled with inky black scraggly lines, immensely stark upon the spacious sheet of parchment.

"Meet me at my study. Now."

Such gods-awful and horrible penmanship could only belong to Derek.

I waited two hours before going to him. It was either to spite him for his choice of tone or just because I was not fond of being ordered around like that. Perhaps both.

I passed by two ladies in the hallway. Both offered me meaningful glances and crafty smiles. The way their eyes glinted as we greeted each other could only be seen upon those who share a secret. Those who were part of a grand scheme. Fellow dancers upon a stage laid with spikes and snares and booby traps.

It was the kind of look you'd give to your co-conspirators.

"Blessed be Solaria," I murmured as I began to continue on my way.

"Blessed be the maidens who work in the shadows," they whispered back underneath their breaths.

I almost laughed to myself. Looking back, I had never dared to rely on anyone other than Derek. Though I hardly opened up to him in the past.

As Empress, I was taught not to involve myself with others too much. Attachments had to be severed, for any lingering bond or affection would cause one-sided judgements.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, it seemed.

But it was not my connection—or rather, my disconnection to my people that led me to my downfall. It was because I was generous enough to let that scum of a Grand General have his own freedom. I failed to see how he coaxed the court executives into bringing me down.

However, I was not going to make the same mistake again. I would maintain my newly-found connections with the Wraiths, nurture it until we become immovable protectors of Solaria's throne.

We would not let Ethan's dogs proceed with their ulterior motives through their ranks and positions.

It would have been easier to just kill them outright. Perhaps I could train the Wraiths and turn them into assassins.

A ridiculous idea, given their fragile physiques. They're smart girls, yes. But delicate and soft as the flowers in Cynthia's garden. That was why they'd best fit doing their jobs within the palace. Besides, I would not want them to stain their hands with blood. The Wraiths were too precious for that.

Perhaps when I acquire some free time, I could set up Ethan's inevitable end, speed it up a tad bit.

He could die "accidentally". Possibly from an unidentifiable poison, choking on his food, a fall that may dislocate his spine, a jade vase from the third floor crashing onto his head—the mere thought of these abundant variations sparked my enthusiasm.

Oh, I could not wait to see—

"You appear as though you are plotting someone's death."

I halted on my tracks, stiff as a massive tree.

It was an effort to flick my head in his direction. Even more to place my mask of calm indifference.

The timing couldn't have been worse. He looked like he had only stepped out of his study, his hand completely shutting the door behind him.

Rass' silver hair shimmered as it caught the sunlight flowing into the windows down to the marble floors of the hallway. He stared at me the same way that of a child eyeing his favorite toy.