The official greeting ceremony concluded with meticulous, exhausting formality. Mira Lune's smooth diplomacy had successfully masked the tension, and the delegation was shown to their lavish, yet heavily observed, wing in the Sovereign Royal Palace.
Vaelorian wasted no time. Using his borrowed gift—speed and teleportation—he surveyed the building. He moved through the hallways in blurs, his senses extended for any unusual heat signatures, listening for the faint hum of surveillance devices or the suppressed breathing of hidden guards. He confirmed the space around their chambers was safe.
Later that evening, after the last Sovereign attendant left, Vaelorian gave a command: Willow, clear the halls. Riven, prepare for Lyra's arrival.
Vaelorian focused his mind, sending another message to Riven telepathically: We have five minutes of cover. I'll take the lead. Stay focused and be safe, my love.
Riven replied instantly, his voice a cool, steady presence in Vaelorian's mind: I'm ready, Your Highness. I won't use my second Gift unless absolutely necessary.
A moment later, Princess Lyra slipped into their chambers, moving with the practiced efficiency of a spy, her dark silk gown seeming to absorb the light. She was exquisite, but her face was strained, her eyes haunted.
"Princess Lyra," Vaelorian greeted her softly, stepping forward to clasp her hands—a genuine sign of friendship. "Thank you for trusting us with this."
"Thank you for coming," Lyra whispered, her eyes darting toward the heavy doors. "I feel watched, even here. I couldn't risk the official channels. Sit. We don't have long."
Lyra sat between Riven and Vaelorian, her voice low. "Grand Duke Valerius is brilliant, powerful, and utterly charming. But something is wrong. Two of my most loyal handmaidens disappeared after asking simple questions about his family estate. And his personal escort, Captain Marlene, carries a sickness."
Riven leaned in. "A sickness, Princess?"
"Yes. His eyes are perpetually bloodshot, and he has the tremors of a man wasting away, but the court physician reports him perfectly healthy," Lyra explained, her brow furrowed. "And Valerius has a strange power over people—not a Gift, but something else. People agree with him too easily. They forget things that contradict his plans. It's subtle, but terrifying. It feels like a slow, creeping rot of the mind."
Vaelorian looked at Riven, his mind racing: Riven, what she's describing sounds exactly like mind manipulation. We need Anya on the Captain, and you need to observe Valerius closely.
Riven's mental reply was grim: Understood, Your Highness. If he's gifted, he's dangerously good at hiding it.
Lyra added, "He visits a secluded tower on his estate every night. No one is allowed near it, not even his staff. I suspect that's the key. Find out what's in that tower."
A Tower. Got it. She has given us enough to work with. Vaelorian spoke into Riven's mind. He then spoke aloud, "We have all the information we need. Go back before you are missed. We will proceed as planned." Lyra embraced them both quickly and vanished back into the night.
The following evening was the first major social event: a lavish gala hosted by the Sovereign Emperor, primarily to introduce the Imperial delegation to Grand Duke Valerius.
The ballroom was magnificent, its high arches carved from dark wood and adorned with cold, heavy silver, filled with the Sovereign elite. Vaelorian, Riven, and the rest of Lumina's delegation stood near the Emperor, making their official introductions.
Vaelorian to the Team through Telepathy: Eyes open everyone. Valerius is arriving now. Act like a charmed tourist.
Riven to Vaelorian: He's radiating cold confidence. I feel nothing unusual from him yet, Your Highness. It's weird, he's way too controlled for an occasion like this.
Grand Duke Valerius was indeed charming—tall, handsome, and immediately engaging. He moved through the crowd like a favored son, eventually reaching the Imperial party.
"Prince Vaelorian, Lord Riven," Valerius greeted them, his handshake firm and warm, his eyes an unnerving, perfect shade of grey. "We are honored to have you grace our humble court. I trust our cultural exchange will be illuminating."
Vaelorian smiled broadly. "The honor is ours, Grand Duke. The defensive architecture alone is fascinating. And allow me to introduce my delegation."
Vaelorian immediately activated Anya's ability for Nature Control. He wanted a second sensory reading on Valerius's immediate physical state.
Anya to Vaelorian: Your Highness, his pulse is slow, almost unnaturally steady. He feels almost... engineered. There is no natural stress response. Even his skin feels abnormally cool.
Vaelorian to Riven: He's too steady. Anya says he feels almost engineered. Watch his eyes, Riven.
Valerius turned his smooth attention to Riven. "Lord Riven. I've heard such incredible things about the future consort of Lumina. But I didn't picture you as someone who would be interested in arts and cultural exchange. A man of many talents, perhaps?"
Riven met his gaze, returning the charming smile, subtly activating his second Gift to probe the edges of Valerius's mind—a light, non-intrusive mental touch. He felt for mental architecture, for any sign of control or manipulation.
Riven to Vaelorian: Hmm. That's strange. It's almost as if he has a wall, Your Highness. Thick but noticeable. He'll know if someone tries to get in there. It's a shield, not a natural defense.
Valerius then turned to Barron, who was standing like a statue. "And this imposing Knight must be Captain Barron. I trust you find our Palace security satisfactory?"
Barron replied with a formal bow, his voice a practiced monotone. "The protocols are thorough, Your Grace. Thanks for having us." Barron was actually cataloging the distance between himself and Valerius, calculating the time needed for a Shift should an emergency arise.
Valerius then drifted toward Mira Lune and Willow, keeping the conversation light.
"Grand Duke, I am truly fascinated by your arts collection" Mira Lune charmed, steering the conversation toward tedious, safe territory. "Willow, our Chief Advisor, is particularly eager to have a look."
Willow, using her heightened speed of thought, was monitoring every interaction. She noticed Valerius's fleeting impatience whenever the conversation became bureaucratic. He hates tedium. He wants power, not a process, she thought. He is a man of singular, sharp focus.
Valerius dismissed the team with a perfect smile. "I trust we shall all become better acquainted during your stay."
As Valerius walked away, Vaelorian sent one final message to the whole team, his voice a clear, urgent command in their minds: Valerius is the threat. We've confirmed Lyra's suspicion. Willow, find the tower's location. Barron, prepare for a night operation. We move before dawn.