Perla stepped into the meeting room, draped in a flowing lilac silk cape, the delicate fabric soft on her milky skin. Around her neck rested a heavy pearl necklace, an heirloom passed down from her mother and once belonged to Marie Antoinette herself. She was mentally well prepared to answer An’s questions. She had anticipated the questions An might ask, and in her mind, she had already crafted her responses. However, when Perla opened the communication channel, the sight before her made her freeze.

  Two women stood beside An, their faces horribly distorted by deep cuts and burns, evidence of a cruel past. It was clear they had been tortured; their faces scarred by torment from years ago. Did all Sumerians hide a distorted face behind their marks? Did An have such a face behind her graceful mask? Before Perla could form a word, An spoke, her expression as cold as stone.

  Perla’s breath caught in her throat as An’s words echoed in the cold, sterile room.

  “Princess Perla,” An continued, her gaze determined, “I would like to inform you that I shall speak to my counterpart, Emperor Sephianos, as the new Queen of Sumer. Queen Nammu is no more. Please let the Emperor know that my next meeting will be with him. I have no more to discuss with you.”

  Perla’s mind raced, her emotions caught between disbelief and anger at An’s distant, almost hostile tone. But she said nothing. She could see how frightened An truly was. The deep purple fumes that usually surrounded her were different now, much darker, more chaotic. The fear was fresh and flowing in abundance. It was clear that An was no longer speaking for herself but was being controlled by the two women standing beside her. They were the ones pulling the strings, using her as a puppet. Both women exuded the same reddish shade of purple, the kind that only Sumerians possessed, some more intense, some more subdued.

  Perla’s resolve hardened. She had no choice but to inform her father. Without wasting another moment, she rushed to his chambers. Her mind raced with the terrifying possibilities, but she kept her focus. Her father listened intently as she relayed all the details. They discussed several possibilities, but the most logical conclusion was chilling.

  “We can only assume that the Sumerians killed Queen Nammu and placed her daughter on the throne, hoping to use her as a puppet,” Sephianos said, his voice heavy with concern.

  Perla nodded, her suspicions confirmed. She felt a deep unease in her gut. “I believe these women are a part of the Sumerian religious faction, the Ziggurat. Neither An nor Queen Nammu were particularly religious. There could have been some kind of religious coup.”

  Her father’s brow furrowed as the weight of the situation sank in. “This is a crisis. We thought we had time to strategize and prepare for the Sumerians, but it seems we don’t have that luxury anymore. If they’re pulling the strings, we need to know what they want, and fast.”

  “I agree,” Perla said. “We can’t wait for them to make their move. We need to get ahead of them, learn what they’re planning, and make sure Ars Pheria is ready to respond.”

  Sephianos’ jaw tightened. “I must speak to An immediately. If she’s still under their control, I need to understand what they’re demanding.”

  Emperor Sephianos wasted no time. He informed the advisory group of five senators and instructed them to arrange a full parliament meeting within the following week, with the attendance of all Ars Pherian senators. The presence of the Sumerians could no longer be kept a secret; it was time for the Senate to be fully involved. Meanwhile, he and Princess Perla would handle the immediate crisis with the new Sumerian queen.

  The following day, they prepared for the meeting. Emperor Sephianos and Perla entered the conference room, their minds as ready as they could be. When An finally entered, she was flanked by the same two priestesses, their distorted faces as unreadable and chilling as before. The priestesses' dark purple auras swirled around them like an oppressive force, giving the scene a suffocating energy. An’s eyes were cold, her demeanor distant. She did not greet the Emperor or Perla. Instead, she took her seat and began reading something from the device in front of her, completely ignoring the two royals.

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  “Emperor Sephianos,

  We demand your infinite attention!

  Former Queen Nammu of the Sumer was arrested for treason. Before her execution, she managed to escape on one of our spaceships with a crew of twenty-five Sumerians. The spaceship is travelling with top speed capacity on a route set to Ars Pheria. If they do not drop speed, they will reach Ars Pheria in nineteen Sumer days from the current time. If they do not drop speed, they will not have enough fuel to travel back to Sumeria.

  Pay meticulous attention that the ship is capable of nuclear destruction. We urge you to eliminate anyone on the ship before they intend to take over your planet. As the new Queen of Sumer, I will not order our ships to follow immediately. You will be on your own when they arrive.

  Therefore, we warn you of the devastating situation.”

  Of all the logical scenarios Perla and Emperor Sephianos had considered, the idea of a queen in exile never crossed their minds. The Sumerians were capable of space travel, and they possessed spaceships equipped with nuclear weapons. They had the potential to conquer Ars Pheria. The heaviness of An’s words You will be on your own when they arrive, echoed in the Emperor’s mind.

  “What makes you think that the former queen in exile would want to take over Ars Pheria?” he asked in a cold, measured tone.

  “I know my mother,” An replied. “She would seek to dominate your planet and maintain her power at all costs.”

  “Then why didn’t you destroy her ship if you have access to nuclear weapons?” Perla asked.

  “We attempted,” An said. “The extreme speed of the ship significantly reduces our chances of success, by almost fifty percent. Even if we pursue, we won’t be able to reach it on a course that would allow our ships to return to Sumeria. Also, they seized the largest vessel in the Sumerian fleet. It’s our flagship.”

  “What is your advice for eliminating the queen in exile and her crew?” Perla asked. This could be her last opportunity to extract useful information from the new queen. She sensed that the witches beside An would not allow her to speak again. They twitched subtly and muttered something under their breath as An revealed that her mother was aboard the largest ship in their fleet. Perla could tell this information was shared at An’s discretion.   “You have nineteen days to marshal your arsenal,” An’s voice cut through, before the communication line went dead.

  “That wasn’t Princess An speaking, it was the witches next to her,” Perla said, her voice laced with frustration. “What a circus. Do they really think we wouldn’t catch on?” “They wanted us to understand,” the Emperor replied coolly. “They’re showing us that they hold all the power, and they’ll do whatever they please if we don’t comply with their demands.”

  “They’ve ordered us to kill Queen Nammu, and then they’ll leave us in peace.”

  “Maybe,” Sephianos affirmed, his expression grim. “But the problem is, we don’t have an arsenal, or anything else for that matter, to even kill a bug on Ars Pheria.”

  After the meeting, Emperor Sephianos requested that Marcus meet him in his private chamber that evening.

  Marcus entered to find Sephianos sealing a letter he had written to Prince Alessandro. A towering figure, with muscles honed by years of discipline and eyes sharp as an eagle’s, Marcus was a man who could lift the heaviest burdens and devise the cleverest strategies. He was a man of unwavering duty. Though Ars Pheria didn’t maintain a large military, it did have a small, elite group of royal soldiers tasked with important duties and operations. Marcus, though officially holding the rank of "Head Commander," was often affectionately referred to as “the Emperor’s Knight” by those who served under him.

  Sephianos handed the letter to Marcus.

  “I need you to find the Prince, wherever he may be on Earth, and deliver this letter to him,” Sephianos instructed. “Once he reads it, he might still refuse to return. If that happens, do whatever is necessary to bring him back to Ars Pheria. He must be here within five days, no more.”

  "Yes, Sire." Marcus tucked the letter into his pocket and left the Emperor’s chamber without a word or question.