Count de Morier arrived in Soner at the break of morning.
The capital was different from the last time he had seen it. Flags hung from every street, soldiers were everywhere, and people celebrated loudly—as if trying to forget something.
He stepped down from his carriage calmly. Elegant dark clothing, a golden cane in his hand, no excessive adornment.
He didn't look around for long. The celebration didn't concern him.
A royal invitation.
The coronation of Miron the Sixteenth.
Only a month ago, King Miron the Fifteenth had been assassinated.
The assassination was brutal, sudden, and occurred just weeks before the coronation. No culprit was announced. No details were revealed. The capital chose celebration over questions.
De Morier knew both brothers well.
Miron the Fifteenth had been strict, reckless, and cruel. He trusted no one and never hesitated to kill.
Miron the Sixteenth was his opposite—humorous, quick-tempered, laughed easily, but knew when to stop.
They had been friends since childhood.
They studied together at Sota High Academy, specializing in the Science of Kingdom Administration.
De Morier had been the smartest among them. He didn't argue much, but he saw what others didn't.
Miron liked that about him. He relied on him, even when he didn't fully understand him.
De Morier entered the palace amid the noise.
Plays were being performed, feasts prepared, nobles exchanged smiles.
Everything seemed more normal than it should have been.
The late king had not been normal.
Miron the Fifteenth had founded—or inherited—the most dangerous organization Sota had ever known.
The Black Birds.
No one knew its members.
They wore entirely black clothing, with hoods, black wings on their backs, and a black mask painted with a white owl face.
Their leader was known as "The Owl." He wore white to distinguish himself, but his mask was black like the rest.
It was said the organization's founder was Miron the Fourteenth.
A king who disappeared for years without explanation, known for strange authoritarian tendencies.
Some believed he was still alive. Others believed he was the Owl.
Miron the Fifteenth used the Black Birds for unjustified assassinations.
He killed on mere suspicion.
His most dangerous act was using them in the Fourth Lemor War.
Lemor was a complicated kingdom.
Three previous wars had been halted by intervention from the autonomous kingdoms within Sota.
The House of Miron claimed that Lemor once belonged to Sota long ago, before it split and joined Frentsha—the eternal enemy.
Frentsha was powerful.
Sota had never entered a direct war with it.
Miron the Fifteenth ignored everyone.
He sent the Black Birds without authorization.
The war ended quickly—shockingly so.
Lemor fell, but it was not fully annexed.
It came under Sota's rule with autonomous status, due to Frentsha's interests.
The conclusion was clear.
The king was dangerous… but he was killed.
De Morier entered the inner hall.
The ceremony was over. The celebration continued outside.
Miron the Sixteenth was waiting for him.
He laughed when he saw him.
"You're late."
De Morier replied,
"The capital is crowded."
The king approached and patted his shoulder.
"You haven't changed."
"Neither have you."
They sat alone.
A brief silence followed.
Miron spoke seriously for the first time.
"I'll get straight to the point."
De Morier listened.
"I want you by my side. My right hand."
De Morier showed no reaction.
The king continued,
"I'll eliminate the autonomous rulers. Arrogant fools who think themselves kings.
And I'll destroy the Black Birds. I don't want a shadow over my head."
De Morier said,
"That requires an internal war."
The king replied,
"It requires a mind. That's why you're here."
He paused, then said,
"I'll create a new system. Dual autonomous rule.
Babyn will rule half of Sota.
The other half will belong to the House of Miron."
De Morier looked at him.
"And loyalty?"
The king answered,
"To the system. And to us."
Then he lowered his voice.
"And this is only the first phase."
De Morier raised an eyebrow.
"The second phase: the continent of Lios.
We weaken it by funding internal wars. Make them depend on us. Then we take control."
"And the third phase?"
Miron smiled—a smile that held no humor.
"Frentsha.
A massive revolution. From within.
After that, Sota will rule the world."
Silence fell between them.
Miron said,
"I call this… the Bloody Midnight Council."
De Morier replied calmly,
"A fitting name."
The king looked at him expectantly.
"So?"
De Morier said,
"The plan is feasible.
But it will cost a great deal."
Miron laughed.
"I knew you'd say that."
De Morier stood.
"If we begin, there is no turning back."
The king answered,
"I stopped intending to turn back the moment my brother died."
De Morier left the hall.
Outside, the capital was still celebrating.