Stynx's hurried pace wasn't without purpose. His once-bleeding head was now healed, but the wound was replaced by shame and anger.
He clenched his jaw, furious at himself for letting his guard down, for underestimating her. For thinking, even for a moment, that he could have the best of both worlds.
As a result, Sophia had played him like a harp. And her cold threat still rang in his ears.
She would need to die.
And soon.
It was imperative that he convene with the others and devise a surefire way to eliminate her. If she had managed to defeat the Dungeon Boss alone, there was no telling what else she was capable of. She was a threat—not just to him, but to everything they had so carefully orchestrated. And if left unchecked, she could very well unravel it all.
Sophia was indeed beautiful and it was a shame to get rid of her.
But it was fine.
Lumielle would've been enough to keep him content. She was all he needed. All he ever truly wanted. And once Reneal was out of the way, nothing would stand between him and the throne.
The clinic faded behind him as he approached the base of the stone keep. Just as he ascended the stairs to the first landing, a flicker of movement high above caught his eye.
It was his mother—she was standing on the edge of the third-floor balcony, swaying like a broken weather vane in a storm.
Panic gripped him. "Audrey!" he barked, bolting up the steps two at a time. "What the hell are you doing?! Get down! You'll fall!"
By the time he burst into the room, the suffocating stench of rotting fruit, alcohol, and the sweet, acrid tang of pixie vapor hit him like a wall.
Audrey didn't turn at first.
Stynx stormed across the room, flinging open the balcony doors. "What the hell are you doing?! You'll kill yourself!"
Only then did she twist toward him—her hair a mess of tangles, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her breath reeking of spoiled wine. She smiled without joy.
"You always ruin everything," she slurred venomously.
Stynx froze.
"You disgusting, miserable little curse. What, come to watch your mother die too?"
"Get down," he urged. "You're going to fall."
She stood on the railing like she was balancing on a tightrope, wine sloshing in her goblet, her silk robe stained with bile and sweat.
She laughed—a sour, broken thing. "If I had just gotten rid of you, he would've stayed. He wouldn't have gone back to his pretty little family. To that uptight wench and her brats. If you weren't born, I'd still be loved!"
Stynx's throat tightened, but he pushed a smile through trembling lips and cautiously approached while holding out his hand. "I know. I know you're upset. But listen—I have news. Big news."
She squinted at him suspiciously.
"…Lumielle," he said softly, like a secret too dangerous to speak aloud. "She's alive. If I reveal her, they'll make me king. All I have to do is get rid of Reneal. Then everything falls into place. I'll be able to give you everything you deserve."
Her expression didn't change.
"I'll find Father," he added gently. "I'll use my title and influence. You'll be able to see him again. He'll come back and you both can be together."
For a moment, she didn't respond.
Then her face contorted into something feral. "You lying bastard," she hissed.
Stynx blinked. "What?"
"You don't care about me!" she shrieked, lurching forward. "You never did! All you care about is the crown—and that little princess between your sheets!"
He raised his hands. "That's not—!"
The goblet crashed into his face before he could finish, sending glass and blood spraying everywhere.
Another strike came. Then another.
"You ruined me!"
He staggered back, shielding himself. But something inside him snapped. Not like a twig, not sudden. It was slow—an unraveling. A rope fraying for years until it gave way.
His hands moved. They gripped her shoulders. Then slid to her throat. He didn't remember making the decision. But there they were—fingers tightening. Her gasps sputtered and choked beneath him. Her legs kicked weakly.
"Stop…" he muttered.
She screamed, thrashed, scratched at his face.
"Stop!"
His fingers dug deeper. Her nails scraped his skin, drawing blood, but he didn't let go. His rage was molten now—blinding, howling. Every insult, every bruise, every scream she'd ever shrieked at him roared in his skull.
His vision blurred.
Her body bucked. Twitched. Then stilled.
He stood frozen, chest heaving, hands still locked around her neck.
The silence was deafening. And in that silence… her face shifted. Not physically. Just… something in his mind.
It wasn't Audrey anymore.
It was Arabelle.
That same hollow gaze. That same stillness.
Stynx staggered back, heart pounding against his ribs, blood hot in his ears. His breath came in ragged bursts, and he couldn't stop shaking.
What had he done?
Again?
***
"…Silvie," Fay muttered quietly from a distance, not quite sure how to break the ice.
The girl didn't respond right away. She stood on the balcony, her arms limp at her sides, her gaze fixed in the distance. Then she shifted her grief-stricken eyes on the shattered eggshell at her feet. A thin smile tugged at her lips—bitter, tired.
"…It seems like everyone's left us behind."
Fay hesitated near the doorway. She let her gaze drift from the blackened stones that once encircled their campfire to the bundle of straw and cloth where they'd attempted to incubate the strange egg.
Had it hatched?
Or had it been eaten?
"…What happened… to Lugene and Rue?" Silvestia's question came flat and low, as if she already knew.
"…They both died," Fay answered after a moment.
Silvestia didn't flinch. She didn't cry. She just stared forward, the soft light in her eyes slowly fading. It wasn't closure. It was the final nail sealing away a vengeance she'd longed to exact herself. Her shoulders sank with the weight of something she couldn't even name.
Fay's chest tightened as she watched the girl's fingers twitch uselessly at her sides.
"They were supposed to pay for what they did…" Silvestia murmured. "But they died easy. Just like that. And I'm still here."
"You're not alone," Fay said empathetically.
The girl turned her head slightly. "I stopped by the apothecary on the way here. What's left of it…" Her voice trembled. "Even if I wanted to lie to myself that this isn't real… it's gone. My home. My parents. The window where I used to sit and watch the rain. All of it is now rubble."
Fay cautiously took a step forward. "Silvie…"
"It's my fault." The words came suddenly, like bile. "They're dead because of me."
"That's not true—"
"I found out about the Kaelmonts. About their ties to the Mhaledictus and the Zepharion Church." Silvestia's hands balled into fists. "I was never supposed to know. But I was curious and got caught."
Fay listened silently, inching closer.
"That night… when they came to silence me, I immediately understood the situation. Without an ounce of hesitation, I was poisoned and left for dead. I thought… I thought if I just died… if I took the truth to my grave, maybe they wouldn't come after my parents. Maybe it would stop with me."
Fay's eyes widened. So that's why she was bound in the basement when I found her. Her parents were trying to prevent her from taking her own life.
Silvestia's voice was barely audible now. "But I was wrong. My death wouldn't have stopped anything. They wanted my parents gone too—to erase the competition. They probably couldn't stand that they were the ones who created the elixir that alleviated the effects of pixie crystals.
When… Lugene drugged me, they were probably hoping that the grief and medical bills would have driven the apothecary into bankruptcy, or at least driven my parents to leave the city."
Fay's throat felt tight. "I can't believe they would do something so horrific. I can't believe Lugene poisoned you. But… your parents were the best. If anyone could cure you, it was them."
"They tried," Silvestia whispered with a wan smile. "They synthesized the antidote. But the poison did something. It awakened the dormant virus in me—the same one that nearly killed Papa."
Fay's lips parted. "Mr. Zurrel… how did he survive?"
"Mama and I… we made the elixir that saved him. She always said I had the gentlest hands in the city." Silvestia blinked rapidly, her lashes wet. "They thought I could be cured too. But the poison wrecked my body. My immune system was badly damaged. There was no hope."
"Silvie—"
"If I didn't spy on the Kaelmonts… maybe none of this would've happened."
Fay shook her head, her voice shaking. "It's not your fault—"
"I should've died when they poisoned me," she said, bracing against the railing. "If I had… they'd still be alive."
Fay reached out instinctively. "Silvie, no—don't say that. Please. I'm still here. You're still here. We can—"
The heartbroken fairy turned to her with a soft smile. The same smile she wore when they played together. The same one from when she'd brushed Fay's hair behind her ear and called her sister.
"I'm really sorry, Fay. It's just too much."
"No…"
Before she could move, before she could scream or leap forward or do anything that mattered—
Silvestia allowed herself to fall off the ledge.