The next morning, sunlight barely filtered through the thick curtains when Levi sat up, already awake. Her eyes were sharp, focused—last night's thoughts had crystallized into strategy.
She slipped out of bed, tightened her robe, and stepped into the hallway where Isa was already waiting, having anticipated her mistress's early rise.
Without preamble, she said.
Levi: "Isa. Arrange a meeting. I want Evie, Alexander, and Winter. Somewhere quiet, private—but close to the Information Guild. One of those backroom restaurants we use."
Isa gave a short nod, already taking mental notes.
Isa: "Understood, my lady. Shall I prepare your documents as well?"
Levi nodded once.
Levi: "Yes. Bring the surveillance files too. If we're going to expose the Consort, I want all the strings in my hand."
As Isa moved off to begin preparations, Levi returned to her room. She tied her hair up, gaze catching her reflection in the mirror—a flicker of ice in her eyes.
She reached for her gloves.
Levi (murmured):"Let's end this game, This time, on my terms."
Isa moved like a whisper—measured, silent, sharp.
She reached for the glowing communication orb tucked into the side drawer, brushing her fingers over its surface until it flickered to life. Evie's image buzzed into view, hair tousled, expression unimpressed.
Evie: "Ugh. What now?" Evie groaned, rubbing her eyes.
Isa smiled politely.
Isa: "Lady Adler requests your presence. A private meeting—restaurant near the Guild. You'll want to be there."
Evie blinked. Now fully awake.
Evie: "The Guild... Got it. When?"
Isa: "Two hours. Don't be late." Isa's tone left no room for negotiation before the connection cut.
Next, she penned a letter for Alexander. A crimson wax seal—Adler crest pressed firm—secured the message before a trusted runner sped toward the palace.
Her last stop was the Verlice estate.
Crane met her at the gate, pristine in his uniform, posture precise.
Crane:"Lady Adler's maid,"
he greeted with a formal bow.
"What brings you to the Verlice estate?"
Isa returned the gesture, composed as always.
Isa: "Lady Adler requests Lord Winter Swann Verlice's presence for a private meeting. Ms. Ford and His Highness the Second Prince are also invited. She wishes to discuss a matter of great importance."
Crane nodded, curt and respectful.
Crane: "I'll deliver the message at once."
Moments later, he found Winter near the training yard. The air was cool. Winter stood still, arms crossed, golden eyes fixed ahead.
Crane cleared his throat.
Crane: "My lord. Lady Adler's maid has come with a message. She says, and I quote: 'My lady is inviting you for a talk. Ms. Ford and His Highness the Second Prince are also invited. Please, do come. It is important.'"
Winter was quiet for a beat.
Levi.
He looked toward the estate, thoughtful.
Winter (murmured):"I see, Then we won't keep her waiting."
Isa returned to the Adler estate as quietly as she'd left. She found Levi exactly where she expected her—seated in the corner of her private sitting room, back straight, a teacup balanced delicately between two fingers. The scent of roses and cinnamon drifted faintly through the air.
Levi (without looking up):"Did you send word?"
Isa nodded, removing her gloves.
Isa: "All done. The messages have been delivered. I assume we don't want to keep them waiting?"
Levi set her cup down with precision.
Levi: "Then help me dress. Something dark—semi-formal. Enough to leave an impression… but discreet enough to disappear in a crowd if needed."
Isa's lips curved faintly in understanding.
Isa: "Ah. One of those outfits."
Minutes later, Levi stood before the mirror in sharp, polished readiness.
A high-collared coat in charcoal black hugged her frame—its velvet lapels and silver-stitched cuffs subtle but impossible to ignore. Beneath it, a fitted midnight-blue blouse and tapered trousers, tucked into heeled leather boots that shone like obsidian. Her belt carried a slender dagger—elegant, but deadly. A lightweight hooded cloak rested at her shoulders.
Isa stepped back, appraising.
Isa: "Dark. Fashionable. Clean lines. You look like the kind of woman who commands the room without saying a word."
Levi adjusted her cuffs. Their eyes met in the mirror.
Levi (quietly):"Good, That's exactly the kind of woman I need to be today."
Levi adjusted her gloves near the main hall when Isa hurried up behind her, concern tightening her voice.
Isa: "You're really going alone?"
Levi didn't pause as she reached for her cloak.
Levi: "Yes. I need you to stay here. Keep the estate steady in case anything happens."
Isa (frowned): "Levi… you could be walking into danger."
Levi glanced over her shoulder, expression unreadable.
Levi: "I can handle myself."
And with that, she turned and strode out.
Just as she crossed the entrance corridor, a voice—measured, firm—cut through the silence.
Grand Duke: "Where are you going?"
The Grand Duke stood at the base of the stairs, arms crossed, posture rigid. His gaze, sharp as ever, didn't waver.
Levi halted. Slowly, she turned her head.
Levi (simply): "To an important meeting,"
Before he could press further, she lifted her chin.
"I'll be back before evening."
And she walked away, leaving the Grand Duke standing in the great hall—question unspoken, expression unreadable.
At the restaurant
A tucked-away, upscale spot on the edge of the capital's information district
Levi entered with her hood still up.
Dark and graceful, her presence drew a few curious glances, but none dared approach. She pulled down her hood and scanned the room.
Evie Blaise Ford was already there.
And in full fashion disaster.
Seated like she owned the place, Evie wore a crimson ball gown with off-shoulder sleeves, a sparkling choker, and her signature wild confidence. Her hair was pinned with tiny jeweled blades—because of course it was. She sipped juice like it was the finest wine.
Evie (called, waving over): "Took you long enough, Where's the mask and daggers, Lady Shadow?"
Levi (raised a brow as she approached): "You do know this wasn't a costume party."
Evie (shrugged with a grin): "I know. But if we're planning to ruin the Consort's day… might as well look drop-dead while doing it."
They sat. The air between them was easy, built on trust and history.
Levi: "Winter and Alexander?"
Evie (leaned back, eyes glinting): "On their way. I hope whatever this meeting's about... it's big."She grinned."Because I dressed to destroy."
The soft chime of the door signaled their arrival.
Alexander Romerro strolled in first, hands tucked lazily behind his head, wearing his usual air of nonchalance. Behind him, Winter Verlice followed, composed and silent, golden eyes scanning the room with calm precision.
Alexander's gaze landed on the two girls. His brows lifted. He dropped his arms and straightened as they approached.
Levi and Evie (stood): "Your Highness. Young Duke."
Their voices were perfectly in sync, formal and crisp.
Alexander (offered a grin and a small nod): "Ladies."
Winter gave a polite bow, hand over chest.
Winter: "Lady Adler. Lady Ford."
Levi responded with a faint nod. Evie curtsied—graceful, but casual.
They all settled at the table. A beat of silence lingered before Alexander leaned forward, fingers laced.
Alexander: "So… what's this about? You called us here in a rush."
His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp. Winter remained silent, gaze fixed on Levi—watching, measuring.
Levi (looked at each of them): "Because something is about to happen. And we need to be ready."
Alexander arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back.
Alexander: "This about tomorrow's ball?"
Levi's gaze met his—cold, direct.
Levi: "Yes."
She lifted her teacup, though she didn't drink.
"The Emperor has made a statement."
Evie (tiltes her head, brow furrowed): "I wasn't there. I can't attend council meetings—only my parents can. What kind of statement?"
Alexander (hummed, stretching his arms): "You didn't miss much. Just the air getting heavier."
Levi placed her cup down with a soft clink.
Levi: "As far as I understand, the Emperor wants us to expose Consort Ivory. Her family. Her allies. Her intentions. He can't do it himself—not without consequences. So he's turning to us."
Winter said nothing, eyes flicking between faces like a strategist reading the field.
Alexander (let out a quiet chuckle): "You want us to take down a consort. At a royal ball."
He leaned in, eyes gleaming.
"And how do you know this isn't just another test?"
Levi's jaw tightened, but she didn't flinch.
Levi: "You were there, Your Highness. You know how the Emperor works. Better than any of us."
Silence settled again. Evie shifted in her seat.
Evie: "So… what's the plan?"
Levi (leaned back): "We've planted rumors. A maid from the Consort's estate—her own—will confess. She'll take responsibility for the forged plague documents and the poisoning in Dorvin."
Alexander (blinked): "That's the play? It's enough to stir the court. Enough to trigger whispers. The Consort will panic."
Evie (cut in, voice low): "And if she throws the maid under the carriage and walks away clean?"
Levi (fingers twitched—barely): "Then she proves our point. Her cruelty. Her reach. Her desperation to hold power. That will be her mistake."
Winter finally spoke, his voice quiet but sharp.
Winter: "She's survived worse. If she slips away again… we may lose the upper hand."
Levi (nodded): "This attempt might fail. But we won't."
Evie (leaned in): "And if it does?"
Alexander smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
Alexander: "Then we stop dancing."
Levi (her eyes flashed): "No. Then we change the music."
Evie (folded her arms): "This'll put targets on our backs. The Consort's not stupid. If the maid cracks—or dies—we're next. Not you, Alexander. You'll be the Emperor's little shadow. But us?"
She gestured to herself, Levi, and Winter.
"We'll be out in the open."
Alexander (cleared his throat, sitting straighter): "M'lady, I do believe I outrank you. And for the record—just because we're allies doesn't mean we're friends."
Evie (scoffes): "Right. How could I ever mistake that?"
She leaned in with a grin.
"But come on—ladies' favorite prince? Let's not pretend."
Levi hid her smirk behind her teacup. Winter's lip twitched, just slightly.
Evie: "Arms behind your head, like you own the capital. Honestly, I'm not saying this to Lady Adler or Lord Verlice. But you? We might need to drop the formalities."
Alexander looked half-offended, half-wounded.
Alexander: "I am not a playboy,
He declared, finger raised like a noble protest.
"I'm… well-liked. That's different."
Evie (leaned back, smug): "Mhm. Keep telling yourself that."
Levi (finally setting her cup down): "Alright. Save it for after the ball. We need the court confused—not the team."
Winter (deadpan): "I'm just glad I didn't walk in with my hands behind my head."
Alexander (groaned): "I'm surrounded by traitors."
Evie (grinned): "No, you're surrounded by people with taste."
In the midst of the banter, Isa entered quietly, weaving through the tables until she reached Levi's side. She leaned in and whispered something low, urgent.
Levi didn't move at first.
The teacup in her hand frosted over—ice lacing its surface in a sharp, silent sheen. No one noticed… except Winter, whose gaze locked onto the shimmer.
Levi placed the cup down, her expression unreadable.
Levi: "Your Highness,"
She said to Alexander, voice steady,
"Can we continue this tonight? Or tomorrow morning?"
Evie (straightened): "What's going on?"
Levi stood, brushing invisible dust from her coat.
Levi: "It's… urgent. I have to go."
Alexander frowned, fingers drumming lightly.
Alexander: "You sure you don't want backup?"
Levi glanced at him, then at Winter—who still hadn't stopped watching her.
Levi: "No. I'll handle it."
Winter's arms crossed. He watched her turn to leave, gaze following her and Isa as they vanished through the door and into the streets.
The frost on the cup remained—delicate, chilling, and quiet. A sign.
Winter leaned back.
Winter (murmured): "…That wasn't just urgency."
Levi steps through the front doors, boots clicking sharply against the polished floor. Her coat still trails from the wind outside, but the moment her eyes land on the silent gathering in the common hall—she knows.
Something's wrong.
She slows. Eyes flick across the room, reading every detail.
The Grand Duke sits at the center. Elbows on the armrest. A sealed letter in hand, tapping it against the table with a rhythm far too calm to mean anything good.
Everyone else is quiet. Too quiet.
Levi (straightens): "Can someone tell me what's going on?"
Uncle Jake, ever the bridge, clears his throat.
Jake: "There's a letter. From Consort Ivory."
But before he can say more, the Grand Duke cuts in—voice low, iron-heavy.
Henry: "She's invited you for evening tea."
His gaze lifts. Steady. Expectant.
"You're going."
Levi doesn't flinch.
Levi: "I'm not."
The tapping stops. The air shifts.
"She's a consort, not the Empress,"
Levi says, voice cool, eyes burning.
"I can reject it. I don't owe her anything. She has no right to summon any of us like we're one of her servants."
The Grand Duke exhales through his nose. Not a sigh—something colder.
Henry: "This isn't about rights. It's about appearances. You're going."
Levi (lifts her chin, jaw tight): "No. I'll meet with the Emperor. Not his woman."
Silence spreads, thick and cold.
No one dares move.
No one breathes.
And then—
Henry: "Levi Rose Adler!"
The Grand Duke's voice crashes like thunder.
Levi flinches—just barely—but her spine stays straight.
You could hear a pin drop.
Her uncles freeze. Even Isa, quiet by the door, lowers her head.
Then her mother steps in—soft, composed, hands folded.
Nola: "Levi, honey... you have to go."
She moves forward, voice gentle but urgent.
"This isn't just about the Consort. It's about what she's planning. If she's reaching out now, it means she's nervous. Or baiting you. Either way... we need to know. Better to be ahead of her, not behind."
But Levi doesn't move. Doesn't yield.
Her eyes lift, sharp with quiet defiance. Her voice comes low. Strained.
Levi; "Mother, please. It is my right to choose whether I go or not. I had an urgent meeting today. You called me back—dragged me back—over a letter. A letter from a woman who wants me dead."
The Grand Duke's chair scrapes across the floor. He stands.
The letter crumples in his fist.
Henry: "You have no other choice."
His words hit like stone. Final. Icy.
He steps forward.
Henry: "You will go. And this is the end of this discussion. If you refuse…"
His voice lowers.
"…then don't expect the Adler family to shield you the next time she strikes."
Silence.
The weight of it crashes over the room like a storm.
Levi's eyes lock on him.
Her breath stutters—not from fear. But from rage. And hurt.
He's never said that before. Not out loud.
And it burns.