Mystery of the unknown figure.

Sergei continued walking as he then went into another corner, while Catherine followed him from behind. “Are you in trouble, miss?.” Sergei asked politely. As he turn slowly to meet Catherine’s gaze.

Catherine met his eyes as she then think. “No, I just want a place to stay in and wait till the transportation portal is open again, so i can go home.”

“Do you know how to go there?.” Sergei reply curiously, doubtful.

“Yeah..” Catherine said unsure.

Sergei then slowly nodded without asking any more as he slowly looked back at the front while the two walked into the crowds of the street.

"That will be all, Your Majesty," Mina announced, her voice soft and heavy with sadness. With a final, mournful curtsy, she turned and slipped through the door.

Jasper was left with a bitter taste in his mouth, the echo of a harsh truth. He stood frozen, the news a shock that stole his breath, leaving him without a single outward reaction. Perhaps he maintained a semblance of composure in his mind, but the sheer unexpectedness of it had blindsided him.

A sudden, jarring memory.

"Where are you going?!" a young man had shouted, his voice strained against the cacophony. The square erupted in screams, crowds scattering like leaves before a storm as fire raged.

"I have to go there," the other man yelled back, determination etched on his face. "I saw something, heard something..."

"It's madness! Let's get back," the young man insisted, grabbing his arm, his grip rough, his expression deadly serious as he tried to pull him away.

Silence hung between them for a tense moment. Then, a quick glance away before the other man's eyes met his again, blazing with stubborn resolve. "I have to go." He wrenched his arm free, offering a final, dismissive look before abruptly turning and running headfirst into the chaos.

Back to the quiet present.

Jasper sank into his chair, the vividness of the memory leaving a deep furrow on his brow. He hunched forward, his head lowered, haunted by the recollection.

"Why..." he murmured to the empty room.

"Why... How could you..."

"No, this can't be right..."

The young man rode his powerful brown stallion through the heart of the deep woods, increasing their pace slightly as they followed the clear dirt path. The wind whispered through the trees, rustling leaves and branches as they swept past. Dressed in a neat, tailored traditional riding outfit, he remained focused, his gaze fixed and composed as the horse's hooves drummed rhythmically against the earth. After what felt like hours pounding across the trail, he tightened the reins, signaling the horse to halt. They both paused, looking out into the distance.

There, nestled among the trees, was a familiar sight – a small cottage cabin, painted in cream and brown. Small, yes, but big enough for three, perhaps. His attention narrowed, drawn entirely to the cabin. His senses sharpened, a wave of familiarity washing over him. Even from this distance, a deep, instinctual knowledge told him who was there.

Dismounting, he held the horse's gaze for a brief moment, sending a silent command to stay put. A quick, affectionate pat on the stallion's neck, and then he turned, beginning his walk towards the cabin. His eyes never left the structure ahead.

As he drew closer, the cabin door swung open, revealing figures emerging. First, a young man with striking features, dressed in a tailored brown blazer and dark trousers over a white ruffled blouse. Beside him stood a young Caucasian woman in a formal, peach-colored princess dress.

"Brother!" the approaching young man called out, his face lighting up with recognition as he spotted them.

"Brother," the man by the door replied easily, a casual note in his voice, "I'd like you to meet Sandra, an acquaintance of mine."

The approaching young man stopped, his gaze lingering on the woman beside his brother, a thoughtful sincerity in his eyes, before quickly returning his attention to his brother.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady," he said with a warm, friendly smile, stepping forward to take her hand and press a polite kiss to it before stepping back.

The young woman dipped her head in greeting, offering a shy smile, though her eyes quickly darted away, her posture revealing a hint of anxiety.

"What brings you out here?" his brother asked, a friendly curiosity in his tone. "I thought you usually only rode in the mornings?"

"Needed to check on something in the woods," he replied. "Happened to have some free time over lunch, so I thought I'd do it now."

"Ah. Well, Sandra and I are just heading out," his brother said. The young woman nodded in agreement beside him, placing her hand on his arm as they began to walk past.

"Wait," he called out, watching them.

His brother and Sandra turned back.

"Where are the two of you headed?" he asked, keeping his tone light.

"To the palace," his brother answered formally. "We have something we need to discuss there. With Father, specifically."

The young man nodded, a moment of quiet contemplation on his face. He looked back at them.

"You can take my horse if you like," he offered, a friendly smile returning. "You know him; he's waiting patiently back there." He glanced towards Sandra as he spoke.

"Alright, thanks," his brother replied, giving a brief nod. They turned back and continued on their way, leaving the young man to watch them walk into the distance.

The young man strolled through the forest, the late afternoon sun dappling through the leaves, when he found Sandra. A lost princess, she'd appeared as if by magic in the woods. Now, they walked together towards the path where his brother had left his horse.

"Your brother looks so much like you," Sandra commented, breaking the comfortable silence.

The young man chuckled inwardly, a quiet thought he didn't voice.

"No, I mean it," she insisted, glancing at him. "Your eyes, the shape of your face – it's really striking."

He shrugged lightly. "I don't even know how to respond to that. I can't exactly say I'm flattered."

Silence settled between them for a moment, punctuated only by the rustling leaves and their footsteps.

"My lord," Sandra said finally, her voice soft, "I'm a little... anxious."

He stopped, turning to look at her. "Anxious? About what?"

"Just... afraid I won't be accepted here," she confessed, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. "Knowing my kingdom isn't even in this realm..."

He considered her words, then offered a reassuring smile. "You won't have any trouble. Besides, Father knows everyone and everything. He'll help you."

Sandra met his gaze, a flicker of hope in her eyes. He smiled and nodded, and she returned her attention to their path, a little of the tension easing from her shoulders.

Soon after, they reached the spot where a sturdy brown stallion waited. The young man swung himself easily into the saddle, then offered a hand to Sandra. She mounted behind him, her arms wrapping instinctively around his waist as he took the reins. The horse set off at a steady trot, following the familiar track north towards the castle. Wind rushed past, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Trees blurred at the edges, leaves danced, and the occasional small animal darted out of their way as the stallion carried them homeward.

Before long, the imposing silhouette of the palace rose into view. They rode up to the stables at the side, where the young man dismounted. He turned and offered his hand again, assisting Sandra as she carefully stepped down.

Her eyes swept over the stable, then fixed on the grand exterior of the palace itself, taking in its scale and beauty.

"My home," the young man murmured softly, watching her reaction.

Sandra turned back to him, a look of genuine admiration on her face. "I've seen many palaces in my time, and they truly never cease to impress me."

"Well," he said with a grin, "feel free to judge again. Let's go inside." He gestured towards the main entrance and began to walk, Sandra falling in step beside him.

Entering the palace was like stepping into another world. Staff and workers moved through the halls, many pausing in their tasks. They bowed respectfully to the young man, but their eyes lingered with open curiosity on the unfamiliar young woman at his side.

Just inside the main hall, the young man stopped and looked at Sandra. "Wait for me here," he said. "I'll go find Father and let him know you're here." His gaze then shifted past her, landing on a figure some distance away.

"Eddie!" he called out.

A man in the palace livery, neat and composed, approached quickly. "Yes, Your Royal Highness?"

"Please escort Lady Sandra to the palace's conference room," the young man instructed. "I'll join you both there shortly with my father."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Eddie replied, giving a respectful nod. "This way, my lady." He gestured towards a corridor, and Sandra followed him, casting one last glance back before disappearing down the hall with her escort.

Princess Delphine sat stiffly at the head of the long dining table, every inch of her posture broadcasting her unease. Across from her sat the familiar figure from yesterday, casually enjoying his meal. She was still reeling from whatever strange power he held over her – a power that had left her utterly speechless, unable to call for her guards or even alert a passing servant. Her voice, her authority, simply wouldn't work.

The figure, meanwhile, ate with an almost joyful, utterly unreadable smile, spearing a piece of meat and lifting it with surprising grace. He seemed entirely oblivious to the thick tension hanging between them, or perhaps he was simply choosing to ignore it. Delphine watched him, a frown of deep concern etched on her face.

"How... and why are you even here?" Delphine finally managed, forcing the words out, though her earlier attempts to speak had been silenced.

He kept eating, a slight tilt to his head that Delphine found infuriating, as if he hadn't heard her at all. He was practically mocking her.

"Does His Majesty know about this?" she demanded, her voice rising with annoyance.

The figure stopped chewing. Slowly, deliberately, he looked up, meeting her eyes before placing his fork and knife down with a soft clink.

"So, the two of you aren't married yet," he said, completely sidestepping her question.

"You're not answering me!" Delphine retorted, her voice sharper now.

"Guess not," he murmured to himself, almost inaudibly.

"I'm going to tell him—"

"Tell him?" He cut her off smoothly, standing up from his chair. "You don't need to. I was actually planning on dropping by his chambers myself."

Delphine glared at him, frustration boiling.

He ignored her expression, beginning to wander around the grand dining hall. His eyes scanned the portraits lining the walls, a strange mix of admiration and something less definable playing on his face.

"Has he perhaps been... giving you a hard time?" he mused aloud, turning to look at her again, an amused curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Is that why you haven't tied the knot yet?"

Delphine remained silent, pointedly looking away. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Or..." he began again, starting to walk slowly towards her. "Or could it be there's someone else? I'd hazard a guess?" His voice held a playful, knowing quality.

Delphine's mind raced, but she kept her gaze fixed stubbornly away from him.

"Answering me with silence, huh?" he chuckled softly. "That usually only means one thing."

He stopped near her chair. "Well, thank you for your... kind patronage. I truly appreciate it."

Delphine finally looked back at him, pushing her chair back as she stood.

"Where are you going? We're not finished!" she demanded.

"I think we are," he replied, that maddening, teasing glint in his eye. "The silence was quite informative." He turned then, heading purposefully towards the large double doors.

"Hold on! Don't you dare just leave, you idiot!" Delphine called out, a mix of panic and exasperation in her tone. She started after him but stopped just short of following him through the doors, watching him go with a look of dawning concern and anxiety, her mind racing with possibilities she desperately didn't want to face.

Sergei's place wasn't much – just a simple, cozy apartment that felt like it was meant for maybe two, tops. He led Catherine inside, shutting the door behind them. As she stepped in, Catherine's eyes did a quick sweep. The living area and kitchen were definitely lived-in. Simple decorations, sure, but also a bit messy, with leftover plates piled by the sink and pillows scattered haphazardly on the small sofa.

"I'll show you where you can crash," Sergei said, pulling her attention away from the domestic chaos.

He walked towards another door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let Catherine follow. Inside was a small bedroom. Just a single bed, a little table with a lamp, and a small cabinet for clothes opposite the bed. There was a tiny vanity mirror on the wall. The colours were plain, neutral, but surprisingly, the room was spotless and neatly organized – a total contrast to the rest of the apartment.

"Honestly, I barely ever use this room," Sergei commented, almost to himself. "I don't even remember the last time someone actually stayed here." He offered a small smile. "Usually, my girlfriend just tidies it up when she's bored. It's kinda her hobby."

Catherine walked in, taking it all in. "Wow, she did a great job," she remarked.

"Yeah, she's definitely got a knack for it," Sergei replied easily.

Catherine nodded, turning back to face him.

"Uh..." Sergei started, his casual tone suddenly shifting, his voice dropping to something unexpectedly serious. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Catherine said, a ripple of curiosity going through her.

"Look, I know I'm helping you out and, honestly, I'm not even entirely sure why," he fumbled a bit, trying to find the right words. "But... okay, here's the thing." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "My girlfriend's coming over tomorrow, and..."

He trailed off for a moment.

"Oh, um, I'll explain myself, don't worry about that—" Catherine began, but Sergei cut her off.

"Yeah, I know, but..." He looked right at her. "She might know who you really are."

Catherine froze for a beat. Her curiosity spiked, a sudden, sharp realization dawning as his words sank in.

"Barb, my girlfriend," Sergei explained, his voice low. "She just knows things. It's like a weird habit, or what she calls 'the joy of silently knowing.' If she sees you, she would..." He stopped again, the implication hanging in the air.

"Then I'll explain myself," Catherine stated, recovering quickly. "I don't need her to accept me. I'm just here temporarily until the portal opens, then I'm gone. If she sees me as a threat? If I can't talk her down? Then I'll leave. Simple as that." Her voice was calm, serious.

Sergei went quiet for a long moment, just looking at her. Catherine waited, matching his silence.

Finally, he spoke. "Okay. If that's the case... then you can have the place to yourself."

"What?" Catherine blurted out, genuinely taken aback.

"I've got another place, back at my parents'," he explained firmly. "This one's mine, obviously. Look, I can't risk this blowing up on me, or worse, on Barb." He added, "And honestly? My people have been through enough lately. I don't need to add this kind of drama to the mix."

Catherine just listened, processing, finding herself without a response.

"So... speaking of trouble," Sergei ventured carefully, changing the subject slightly. "Mind telling me why you were running from the palace? From the King?"

Catherine hesitated. "I just... I won't be staying long," she reasoned, her voice steady but perhaps a little guarded. "I don't want to get too comfortable, or cause any more trouble than I already have."

Sergei considered her words, filing them away mentally.

"Look, if you get hungry, just shout," he said. "I'll head out tomorrow morning, but I'll swing by with some food later."

Catherine started to protest, "Isn't that too much—"

Sergei cut her off with a slightly awkward grin. "Nah, don't worry about it. Honestly, it helps me save a few bucks anyway."

Catherine just nodded, not pushing it.

"I'll be out here in the living room if you need anything," he said, gesturing vaguely. "Just yell. Name's Sergei, by the way." And before Catherine could reply, he closed the door, leaving her alone in the quiet room.

Catherine didn't reply, just stood there for a moment. A long, weary sigh escaped her lips. She glanced around the small, neat room again, the whirlwind of the day catching up to her. Finally, she sank onto the edge of the single bed, the quiet settling around her as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened.

Lucas practically burst back into the palace, radiating impatience. His first instinct pulled him towards his brother. Taking the stairs two at a time, his gaze fixed ahead, he followed the faint but distinct scent of Jasper. Up he went, reaching the second floor, then swinging into the right-hand hall, guided by the scent trail.

Zeroing in on the specific door where it was strongest, he yanked it open and strode inside.

"Is the fox woman here?" Lucas demanded, his voice tight with urgency.

Jasper was already there, but he wasn't looking up. Still clearly on edge from earlier events, he didn't immediately respond, though Lucas knew he'd been heard. Jasper sat slumped in a chair, head bowed, face grim. His whole energy was closed off, clearly deep in thought or dealing with something heavy – a silent warning not to disturb him.

Lucas waited a beat, his own impatience growing. "Is she here?" he repeated, quieter this time, but with a definite edge.

"No, Wilbert are still looking," Jasper replied, his voice flat, devoid of his usual energy, still not looking up. "Why?"

"Something wrong?" Lucas asked, noticing the heavy mood blanketing his brother, the stark change in his demeanor.

Slowly, Jasper pushed himself up from the chair. Slowly, he met Lucas's gaze.

"I... got a message," Jasper began, his voice low, carrying a tremor of anxiety beneath the carefully composed surface. "From Mina. Your advisor."

"Yeah? About what?" Lucas asked, still a little impatient.

Jasper was silent for a long moment. His face remained carefully composed, but there was something unreadable there, a flicker of distress beneath the surface as he hesitated to speak.

"Don't play games with mer," Lucas said, a flicker of annoyance returning. "If it's dangerous, stop leaving me hanging and just say it."

"He's back, Lucas." Jasper's voice was suddenly firm, though a shiver of unease touched it. "I don't know how. Or why."

Lucas just stared for a moment, the words not quite clicking. "Who?" he asked, a flicker of annoyance returning at the vagueness. But even as he spoke, understanding began to dawn. Slowly, his eyes widened, meeting Jasper's steady gaze. The look they exchanged said everything. There was no need to name the person. They both knew exactly who it was.

Lucas broke the gaze first, turning away. His head dropped, and he stayed like that, back to Jasper, lost in thought.

"I've already told Eddie and the others – the guards, high and low," Jasper said, his voice regaining its firm, controlled tone. "He's expected to come here. Whatever happens, we have to be ready."

"Ready? For what?" Lucas muttered, finally turning back to look at him, genuinely confused.

"He's been gone a long, long time, Lucas..." Jasper stated firmly.

"So?" Lucas scoffed. "You think he's got the guts to do something that needs preparations?"

Jasper just looked at him, a thoughtful silence hanging between them as he considered Lucas's point.

"Then don't leave the palace," Jasper decided, his voice settling into a determined tone. "We'll wait for him here."

Lucas looked at him for a moment, then turned away again. He walked over to the empty sofa, collapsing onto it in a messy heap, saying nothing for a moment.

"For once," Lucas finally muttered, the words laced with a harsh, salty bitterness, "I actually thought the idiot was dead."

"We all did," Jasper corrected quietly.

"Now I just feel sick knowing I have to see his face again," Lucas said, his voice hard and serious. "Everything I felt... It feels like it was all for nothing. Just dust."

"Your Majesties!" A voice boomed, and the door practically slammed open as Eddie barged in, clearly rattled. Both Lucas and Jasper snapped their heads around, a flicker of concern crossing their faces at Eddie's panicked arrival.

"For fuck sake, Eddie, can you please enter like a gentleman?" Lucas groaned from the sofa.

"What is it?" Jasper asked, stepping towards the flustered guard.

"Princess Delphine is here!" Eddie announced, trying to regain some formality, though his voice was still strained. "She just... she just burst in, looking absolutely frantic. She's asking for both of you, sirs."

Lucas and Jasper went quiet again, exchanging another look. This time, it was a mix of shared confusion and fresh curiosity. They both turned back to Eddie, waiting for more.

Mina and Barbara were tucked away in a quiet corner of a nearby cafe. Barbara had decided to tag along when Mina mentioned taking a week off work, figuring it was a good chance to catch up after a long day herself. They sat across from each other at a small table, which held a cheerful spread of sliced fruit, some crusty bread, and two glasses of iced lemonade.

"So, why the sudden week off?" Barbara asked, taking a sip of her drink, a curious look in her eyes. "Is this... about the prince?"

"Nah," Mina dismissed it with a small shake of her head. "Nothing personal, really. I just needed some space. Time to just... be myself, alone."

"Alright, fine," Barbara sighed, giving in easily. "Won't push."

Mina went quiet after that, just pushing a piece of fruit around her plate with her fork, not really eating. She seemed lost in thought, her face unusually blank.

"Anyway," Barbara continued, trying to lighten the mood, taking a bite of bread. "I'm heading over to Sergei's tomorrow. He said he wants to take me somewhere." She chewed thoughtfully. "Didn't say where, though. Hope it's not, you know... totally boring."

Mina just nodded, still fiddling with her food, not saying a word.

Barbara noticed the silence stretching, the unusual stillness from her friend. It sparked a little concern.

"Hey, you okay?" Barbara asked, leaning forward slightly, watching her.

Mina looked up slowly, offering a strained, dismissive smile. "Yeah, fine, really," she assured dryly, her gaze returning to her plate. She picked up a piece of bread and took a small bite, forcing herself.

"You sure?" Barbara pressed gently. "You seem... off. Like you've been punched."

Mina chuckled softly, shaking her head. "It's nothing... just... I learned something earlier."

"Oh?" Barbara's interest was immediately piqued. She put her bread down, leaning in. "Do tell. What is it?"

Mina hesitated, gathering herself. She looked at Barbara, her expression serious despite the warning that came next. "Promise you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. And I mean anyone. I'm serious."

"Okay, wow," Barbara chuckled lightly, her eyes widening a little. "That serious, huh? Alright, lay it on me. Shoot." She took another bite of bread, ready to listen.

Mina sighed for a moment, then leaned forward conspiratorially, ready to share her heavy secret.

Meanwhile, across the palace...

"He's here," Princess Delphine repeated, still looking slightly stunned as she sat opposite the brothers in a private conference room.

"Yeah, seems that way," Lucas confirmed dryly.

The three of them sat in the room, the air thick with unspoken tension. This wasn't a casual chat; it was a firm discussion about the sudden, unnerving situation they now faced – the unexpected return of a certain someone.

Delphine looked over at Jasper, who was standing near the window, his gaze distant, clearly thinking. "What are we going to do, Jasper?"

Jasper considered it for a moment before acknowledging her question, though he didn't answer it directly. "What did he say to you?" he asked, changing the subject slightly, wanting details from her encounter.

Delphine turned to look at Jasper, the memory of meeting the man still leaving her in surprised disbelief. "He's changed," she commented, a frown creasing her brow as she recalled their conversation.

"Changed?" Lucas scoffed from his seat. "Define change, Delphine."

"Well, I don't exactly know him well personally... we've only met a dozen or so times at official events over the years," she admitted. "But he's different. The cheerful, warm person I remember... that's gone. His eyes were... cold."

"Oh yeah, the goody two-shoes," Lucas snorted, a smirk playing on his lips. "Totally unlike me and Jasper." He seemed almost entertained despite the tension.

Delphine continued, a note of residual shock in her voice. "He just... barged in. Like a maniac. The pathetic fool..."

"Anything else?" Jasper asked, his voice sharp. "Did he say anything important?"

Delphine's expression shifted. She remembered something else the man had said, something that touched on the past possibility involving her and Jasper – a potential marriage that hadn't happened. A flicker of discomfort crossed her face; the sting of that rejection, or perhaps just the memory of the failed plan, still carried a faint ache. She quickly steered the conversation back to the main point, not wanting to dwell on that particular uncomfortable memory.

"He seems like... a completely different person now," Delphine said, deliberately changing the subject. "Someone we don't actually know at all."

Lucas remained not interested while Jasper remained concern and composed as he heard it as the three of them remained silent after that.

The hours stretched long and silent in the palace, heavy with the aftermath of tragedy. Blood stained the walls, grim evidence of the massacre. The air itself felt thick, weighted down by the scent of death and the silence of loss. Amara lay slumped against a cold wall, a picture of utter devastation. Hopeless, numb, the horrific scene she'd witnessed played on repeat in her mind. Grief had leeched away every scrap of motivation, leaving her a hollow shell. Tears had etched paths down her face, but the crying had stopped hours ago, leaving her eyes empty, her gaze fixed blankly ahead.

She hadn't moved. Couldn't move. For what felt like an eternity, she remained like that, dry-eyed now but bearing the raw, evident marks of her hours of mourning.

As she lay there, lost in the void, a strange scent pricked through the heavy air. Her eyes, dull moments before, slowly flickered towards the side, towards a darker, shadowy edge of the palace hall. An unfamiliar smell... something living, but utterly foreign.

A tiny spark of curiosity, perhaps the first feeling not laced with agony, flickered to life. Weak from grief, she still managed to push herself up. Slowly, shakily, she began to walk towards the scent.

Midway, she stopped, staring into the deep shadows of the corner. She didn't dare get closer, a sudden wave of anxiety holding her rooted.

Then, from the blackness, something moved. It crawled.

Amara let out a sharp, startled hiss, scrambling backwards. She dropped into a low, defensive crouch, her face contorted – fear warring with a sudden, fierce fury at this intrusion, this potential new threat in a world already shattered.

It crawled slowly out of the shadows, revealing a creature that was undeniably a newborn baby, yet unlike any Amara had ever seen. Humanoid in shape – two arms, two legs – but its skin was a vivid green, and it was completely hairless. It was making noise, small, uncertain cries that seemed to blend the sound of a human baby and a tiny, distressed cat.

The baby slowly tilted its head up, its sparkling grey eyes locking onto Amara's.

Amara stared in shocked disbelief. Disgust and a potent anxiety washed over her. She recoiled further, instinctively treating it as a dangerous, unfamiliar species.

"What... what are you?" Amara whispered to herself, her gaze fixed on the strange being with a mixture of revulsion and fear.