"Ahhhhh," Clarissa's voice cracked with disbelief. "He cannot do that!" she yelled, as her words echoed through the stone walls of the palace; as the young nobles stormed into the castle's common room. Her fists trembled at her sides, and her eyes darted around the room, searching for anyone to agree with her.
Liam followed closely behind, with his steps measured and his tone infuriatingly calm. "Yes, he can, sister." His voice was barely raised above a whisper, but the weight of his certainty pressed down on the situation like a stone. His gaze shifted past Clarissa for a moment and settled on Rhyfel. "He can."
The air thickened as Liam and Rhyfel locked eyes. A quiet storm brewed between them. Liam's stare was cold and steady, while Rhyfel's jaw tightened, and his chest rose and fell with slow, deliberate breaths. The room faded around them, leaving only the silent battle of wills in the charged space between their locked eyes. Isabelle stepped up behind Rhyfel and rested her hands gently on his shoulders. Her touch was soft; it was a quiet attempt to console him and to offer comfort without words.
"You!" Clarissa's voice cut through the air; it was sharp and accusing. She spun toward Liam, and fury blazed in her eyes. "This is all your fault!"
"Come on, Claire," Clara said softly, trying to reason with her. "It isn't his fault."
"Yes, it is!" Clarissa snapped and her voice broke. "It's all his fault!"
Without another word, she turned and sprinted toward one of the spiralling staircases. Her footsteps echoed against the cold stone floors as she fled to her room. Clara and Isabelle exchanged a worried glance before instinctively moving to follow her, but Liam held out a hand to stop them.
"Let me," he said quietly. His heart ached with the weight of her blame, but he needed her to understand. The others watched as Liam slowly made his way up the stairs. Rhyfel lingered next to Isabelle, his gaze following Liam's retreating figure.
"What happens now?" Rhyfel asked softly; his voice was low and uncertain.
"We prepare for a wedding… two weddings," Isabelle answered; her tone was lighter than what she felt. Her eyes shifted around the room in search of Saiko, but he wasn't there. Her brow furrowed slightly before she turned back to Rhyfel. His expression remained tense and his eyes were clouded with something deeper.
There was worry.
Isabelle tilted her head, studying him closely, then it clicked. "You're talking about you and Liam, aren't you?"
His jaw tightened, and he gave her a slight nod. Their relationship was a secret, known only to a select few — Henry, Saiko, Rhyfel's father, and Isabelle herself. No one else suspected it.
Without hesitation, she cupped his face in her hands. Her thumbs gently brushed against his cheekbones. She pulled his forehead down to rest against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet.
"It's going to be okay," she promised softly; her words were a steady anchor against the storm swirling in his eyes. "Come sit with me." She dragged him to a small plush chair in the corner of the room. He sank into it, for the weight on his shoulders made him heavier than ever. Isabelle perched on the armrest beside him, her fingers resting lightly against his arm. Before Rhyfel spoke, his attention snapped to the sound of footsteps. Liam had returned, but he was alone.
"She locked the doors to her chambers and wouldn't let me in," Liam said, his voice squeezed tight with frustration.
"Seriously?" Renae hissed, crossing her arms. "Did you even try?"
"Yes!" Liam snapped, running a hand through his hair. "And trust me, it makes no sense for you to try. If I, her Gemini, can't enter, neither can any of you." He paused. "But if you must, then go ahead and try."
The room fell silent; even the air felt heavy and Rhyfel exchanged a glance with Isabelle. Though no one dared to speak, Clara and Renae dashed up the stairs to the room and left Isabelle behind with Rhyfel. She stayed close to him, trying her best to comfort him despite the overwhelming tension.
"I am sure you guys prepared for when this would happen." she stated.
Rhyfel gave her a look that suggested they hadn't in fact prepared for this moment and he genuinely doesn't know what to do.
"Bro, the strongest warrior of his age and you didn't have a plan, poor baby, I can only imagine how you must feel."
Rhyfel held up his head. "What I feel." he laughed. "What I feel is the urge to stab the king in his chest, piercing his heart."
"Alright, enough about your problems," she said, her voice cutting through his thoughts of treason. "I'll give you some gossip about me instead."
Rhyfel raised an eyebrow; he was unsure of where she was going with this. "What are you talking about?"
Isabelle leaned back, and her tone shifted to something more serious. "Did I ever tell you why I broke up with you?" The question hit Rhyfel like a punch to the gut. They had been together for six years, a perfect couple by all appearances, until one day she had suddenly ended things, when they were seventeen.
He looked at her and a sad smile crossed his face. "No, but that was a long time ago, and I've gotten over it."
Isabelle scoffed and rolled her eyes with a mixture of annoyance and disgust at the memory. "Doesn't matter. I'll tell you anyway. It'll be the talk of the town soon enough."
Rhyfel's curiosity piqued, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue
"So, a few days before I broke up with you," Isabelle began, and her voice was lower now, as if weighing her words carefully, "my father called me into his office. The atmosphere was eerie, like something big was about to happen. My mother was there too, along with the other five village elders and their offspring, all sons by the way ."
Rhyfel frowned. "Why?"
"That was the year my parents decided they would descend from the Circle seat once the youngest elders' child turns twenty," she said and her eyes narrowed as she thought back to that moment.
"Wait… aren't you the youngest elders' child?" Rhyfel asked, piecing the situation together.
Isabelle gave a sharp nod. "Sí."
"And your twentieth birthday falls within the coming week?" He pressed.
"Sí," she replied, confirming his suspicions.
Rhyfel's confusion deepened. "But what did that have to do with us?"
Her voice dropped even further. "When a member of the New Xochian ascends to the Circle, they must marry another member of New Xochian. If I ascend, I have to choose a suitor from among the Elders' children, and if one of them ascends, As the only female, I must accept their proposal."
Rhyfel blinked, disbelief on his face. "But… what if you do not wish to be part of the trial?"
Isabelle's gaze hardened. "If any elder child refuses to comply with rules then they are to be beheaded."
Rhyfel sat in stunned silence as the weight of her words sank in. Isabelle's life and her choices had never truly been her own. She had been trapped in a system that demanded obedience; her every move was calculated by others.
As Rhyfel opened his mouth to respond, Saiko's voice echoed through the air; it was a desperate and sharp cry for "Help!"
Without hesitation, Rhyfel, Isabelle, and the others sprang to their feet, rushing toward the throne room—not the Circle room, but the grand hall that served as the first room one entered when stepping into the castle's palace.
Inside, a chilling sight greeted them. Claire's body hung limply over Saiko's arms, her form a fragile weight against him. Blood trickled from the wounds on her body, pooling on the cold marble floor before Saiko's feet; it was a silent testament to her suffering. Saiko's face was drained of colour, and his hands trembled as they bore the weight of his wife-to-be. "She jumped," he said vaguely, "she jumped".
The commotion echoed throughout the palace, and soon the rest of the Circle arrived. Roselyn, the high priestess and matriarch of the Genesis Coven, was the first circle member to arrive. She materialised before them with a cold, efficient presence. A table appeared in the space, and she gently prompted Saiko to lay Claire's broken form on it.
The queen whimpered and grabbed her stomach at the sight of her daughter. Her cries echoed throughout the castle as the king and the servants rushed to hold her up. Liamed stood in awed silence, his limbs trembled and twitched. He staggered, his body shaking as every inch of him felt Claire's pain.
The sound of Roselyn's magic was metallic and sharp and it filled the room as she worked. She was an expert, unmatched in her field, but even her hands couldn't erase the gravity of the situation. No amount of spells she casted, no demons or angel she summoned could help her
In the background, Renae and the other girls watched, with their hands trembling and eyes glued to Claire's still form. They wanted to help, to do something, they wanted to hug their friend but their brothers, aware of their deep connection to Claire, held them back. They knew that the girls' involvement would only make things worse.
Roselyn's voice was calm but stern as she resorted back to the basic—CPR; the rhythm of her magic pulsed against Claire's chest. The air was thick with tension, each passing second more antagonising than the last.
And still, there was nothing. Liam checked his forearm and of the two 'T's that stood opposing each other to create the mark that every Gemini had, only one remained. The other had faded. His Gemini was gone. The princess of Velmoria, heir consort to throne Clarissa Pierce was dead.