Nine Years Later

  I love you, Isaac…

  And I always will.

  Isaac’s eyes snapped open.

  For a second, he didn’t know where he was—only the soft sway under his body, the faint rattle of wheels, the smell of polished wood and expensive perfume.

  A royal carriage.

  Velvet seats. Gold trim. The world outside muffled by curtains.

  Mia leaned closer, her expression warm. “My love… are you okay?” She studied him like she could see the distance in his eyes. “You look… far away.”

  Across from them, Yu watched in silence, her gaze sharp but controlled—like she was pretending not to care.

  Isaac blinked and forced his breath steady. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just… thinking.”

  Mia smiled and slid her hand over his. Her touch was gentle. Familiar.

  “You know you can tell me anything, right?” she said softly. “Anything.”

  Yu’s eyes flicked to Mia’s hand.

  Mia noticed. Of course she noticed.

  She didn’t pull away.

  Instead, she leaned a little more into Isaac, resting her shoulder against him like she belonged there.

  Yu’s lips curved faintly. “Anything?” she repeated, voice sweet and dangerous. “That’s brave.”

  Mia’s smile didn’t change. “I’m not scared of you.”

  Yu’s purple eyes narrowed. “You should be.”

  Mia let out a small laugh, teasing. “Oh yeah? Last time you got jealous, you nearly ripped a door off its hinges.”

  Yu’s gaze sharpened. “Because you were sitting too close.”

  Mia tilted her head innocently. “I’m sitting close right now.”

  Yu’s jaw tightened.

  Isaac sighed through his nose, trying not to smile.

  Yu leaned forward slightly, looking Isaac dead in the eyes. “Tell her to move.”

  Mia squeezed his hand. “Tell her to stop acting like she owns you.”

  Yu’s voice dropped. “I do.”

  Mia’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Wow. He didn’t even propose.”

  Yu’s nostrils flared. “Mia…”

  Mia leaned closer to Isaac, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “Careful. She’s going to bite me.”

  Yu’s smile showed teeth. “If you keep talking, I might.”

  Isaac finally gave them the smallest warning look. “Both of you.”

  Mia pouted. Yu smirked.

  The carriage suddenly slowed.

  Then stopped.

  The silence outside shifted—like a crowd holding its breath.

  Isaac straightened, shoulders rolling once. “Ready?”

  Mia’s face lit up instantly. “Ready.”

  Yu’s eyes glowed faint. “Always.”

  Isaac stood first, then offered both hands—one to Mia, one to Yu—elegant, practiced. They took them like it was tradition now.

  The carriage doors opened.

  Sound rushed in.

  A roar of voices.

  “LONG LIVE THE KING!”

  Hands waved. Flowers flew. Hundreds—maybe thousands—packed the streets leading to the palace, cheering like they’d been waiting all day just to see him breathe.

  He smiled and raised a hand, calm and royal, giving the crowd exactly what they wanted.

  Mia waved brightly, soaking in the love.

  Yu smiled too—but hers was different.

  Proud. Possessive.

  Like a tyrant watching subjects bow.

  Isaac glanced across the sea of faces, feeling that strange distance again for half a second…

  Then he started walking.

  Mia and Yu at his sides, hands linked, as the cheers followed them all the way to the palace gates.

  Grimoria — Iron Palace

  Isaac sat on the royal throne.

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  Mia stood to his left, calm and smiling like she belonged there. Yu stood to his right, hands behind her back, eyes watching the room like a predator guarding what was hers.

  The hall was packed—nobles, soldiers, citizens—rows of elves filling every space under the black iron banners. Their whispers died the moment the announcer stepped forward.

  He raised both arms.

  “People of Grimoria!” his voice rang, proud and loud. “Today—with joy, with fire in our hearts—we witness a great step… a great transformation for our land!”

  Applause surged through the hall.

  The announcer continued, louder. “The King of Olympia… Isaac… will also rule and protect Grimoria!”

  The crowd erupted again, chants rising like a wave.

  “LONG LIVE THE KING!”

  The announcer bowed low toward the throne. “Today is the day. Great King—your people salute you. My King… thank you for standing with us.”

  Isaac smiled.

  He rose from the throne and walked down the steps toward the crowd, every footstep echoing through iron and stone. Mia and Yu stayed behind him, watching.

  Isaac stopped close enough that the front row could see his eyes clearly.

  “Today,” he said, voice steady, “Grimoria becomes a true power.” His gaze swept the hall. “I promise all of you… I will protect every one of you. With everything I have.”

  A beat.

  “And this new era…” Isaac lifted his hand. “Begins with glory.”

  The hall exploded with cheers.

  Isaac’s hand rose higher.

  “Let the celebration begin!”

  Music burst to life instantly—drums and strings filling the palace, servants rushing, banners lifting, cups raised. The room turned into motion and sound.

  Isaac returned to the throne.

  And as the hall celebrated, a familiar presence appeared at the edge of the crowd.

  Gwyn.

  He stepped forward and dropped to one knee.

  Isaac’s expression softened. “Good to see you, Master.”

  Gwyn lowered his head respectfully. “It’s good to see you too, my king.”

  Isaac stood again, stepping closer. “Come. I need to tell you something important.”

  Gwyn rose at once.

  Isaac turned, and with a subtle gesture, Mia and Yu followed. The four of them walked away from the noise, down the iron corridors, into the King’s private chamber—where the music became distant, and the real conversation could finally begin.

  

  Iron Palace — King’s Chamber

  Isaac sat down, quiet for a moment, like he was choosing the cleanest way to drop a knife.

  “I’ll be gone for a few days,” he said.

  Mia blinked. Gwyn’s posture tightened.

  “What?” Gwyn said at the same time Mia asked, “How?”

  Isaac didn’t look away. “I’m going to visit the other nations.” He paused. “I already sent messengers. I need Verdantia recognized. Officially.”

  Gwyn exhaled through his nose. “So you need each king’s approval.”

  Mia leaned forward, brows furrowing. “Isaac… that’s not what a king does. That’s what subordinates do.”

  “I know.” Isaac stood and walked to the window, looking out at the late sun outside. “But my presence matters. It changes how they answer.”

  He stayed facing the glass.

  “I didn’t want this either,” he admitted. “But it’s necessary.” His voice lowered. “I promised Elara. Before the war.”

  Yu watched him without a word, eyes steady.

  Gwyn nodded once. “I understand.”

  Mia’s expression didn’t soften. “My love… I don’t know. This sounds dangerous.” She swallowed. “You’re not just any king anymore.”

  Isaac glanced back. “I know.” He looked at her carefully. “But I have to do it. Try to understand.” A beat. “And Yu will be with me.”

  Mia’s eyes flicked to Yu.

  Yu’s lips curved—small, smug.

  Mia didn’t smile back.

  “Then I’m coming too,” Mia said immediately.

  Isaac shook his head. “You can’t.”

  Mia stared at him. “What? Why not?”

  Gwyn answered first, calm. “Because it’s obvious.” He looked at Mia. “You’ll have to remain here as the head of Olympia.”

  Mia’s eyes widened. “Me?”

  Isaac nodded. “Exactly.” His tone was firm but not cold. “You’ll command Olympia while I’m away. Gwyn will hold Grimoria.”

  Both of them looked at him like they were realizing he’d already decided this days ago.

  “I won’t be long,” Isaac added.

  Mia exhaled, frustrated. She looked away, then back, trying to swallow her fear without showing it.

  “I still don’t like it,” she said quietly. “But… I get your point.” She hesitated. “Can you at least take Anabelle with you?”

  Isaac paused, then nodded once. “...Fine.”

  Mia let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Thank you.” She glanced at Yu again, sharper this time. “I’d feel better knowing you’re not completely alone.”

  Isaac’s mouth twitched like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

  Mia stood and picked up her hat from the table, fixing it with a practiced motion.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  Gwyn bowed his head. “My king… my queens.”

  Isaac stepped closer to him and gripped his hand—firm, respectful.

  “I’m counting on you, Master,” Isaac said. “Watch over her too. Please.”

  Gwyn nodded without hesitation. “Yes, my king. I’ll be waiting for your return.”

  Isaac smiled once, then turned.

  He left the chamber with Mia and Yu, the music still echoing faintly through the iron halls—while outside, beyond the celebration, the road to the other kingdoms was already calling.

  House of the Assassin Oracle

  Safira ate with the clan in silence, moving like a blade even when she was only holding a spoon.

  Her eyes drifted for half a second.

  What is Isaac doing right now…?

  A small smile tugged at her mouth before she could stop it.

  Probably eating too much.

  A voice slid in behind her like a shadow.

  “Well, well… the great cold killer smiling?” The tone was amused. “That’s rare.”

  Safira’s smile vanished.

  She turned.

  A woman stood there—relaxed posture, familiar face.

  Safira’s eyes narrowed. “Moon.” Her voice was flat. “What are you doing here? I thought you were out of this system.”

  Moon’s lips curled. “I’m back,” she said lightly. “To settle a few loose ends… partner.”

  Safira blinked. “Partner?”

  “Oh yes.” Moon leaned in slightly, enjoying it. “I heard about Lican. Tragic, huh?”

  The chair scraped.

  Safira moved in a flash.

  Moon was pinned to the wall, Safira’s forearm across her chest, a dagger pressed under her jaw. The blade kissed skin.

  Moon’s eyes stayed calm.

  Safira’s voice dropped into something dangerous. “Watch your tongue.”

  A sharp command cut through the room.

  “Enough.” A senior assassin stepped forward, furious. “Safira. Moon. The Mother wants both of you. Now.”

  Safira’s gaze didn’t leave Moon’s eyes.

  Then she pulled the dagger away and stepped back.

  Moon smiled like she’d won something.

  “Shall we, dear?” Moon said sweetly.

  They walked.

  The Oracle chamber was colder than the rest of the house. Candles burned low. Incense drifted in slow lines. At the center, the Mother waited—face hidden, presence heavy.

  Safira and Moon dropped to their knees.

  The Oracle’s voice filled the room, calm and final. “I have a mission for you both. A target.” A pause. “Level C.”

  Safira shifted—just slightly.

  The Oracle noticed.

  “Is there a problem, Safira?”

  “No, Mother,” Safira said quickly. Then the truth slipped out anyway. “Why put me with Moon?”

  The Oracle didn’t react. “Because it is the rule of this house,” she said. “No one leaves on mission without a partner.” Her tone sharpened. “For now, Moon will be yours. Do you object?”

  Safira’s jaw tightened. “No, Mother.”

  “Good.” The Oracle’s voice softened again. “The target’s details are already available. I want it done immediately.” A beat. “Dismissed.”

  They rose and left.

  Moon walked beside Safira like nothing had happened, smiling to herself. “See?” she murmured. “I told you. Partner.”

  Safira stopped.

  Moon didn’t even finish the word.

  Safira’s fist smashed into her face.

  Moon hit the floor hard, blood spilling from her nose. The room went quiet around them.

  Safira leaned down just enough for Moon to hear her.

  “Don’t get in my way,” she said. “Don’t talk to me. And don’t call me your partner.”

  Safira turned and stormed off.

  Moon stayed on the ground for a second, then laughed softly. She wiped the blood from her lip and stood like pain meant nothing.

  “Everything is going exactly as planned,” she whispered.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out an amulet—dark metal, old symbols carved deep. It felt wrong just looking at it.

  Moon’s smile widened.

  “Soon, fallen king…” she breathed. “You’ll die.”

  Her fingers tightened around the amulet.

  “And you’ll feel Lyra’s revenge.”