During the night, the demon slipped into the room where the two women were resting, but he didn't dare disturb them. He wanted to hold the fragment of Grimilde's Magic Mirror in his hands to observe it with his own eyes and study it in depth. The object, he discovered, wasn't of demonic origin, but something ancestral was tied to it. What he felt upon touching it was curious: the mirror didn't reject him, but it was as if it hid from him. Its strength and energy withdrew, returning to their source. Astrael continued to study the mirror until he grew tired of it and put it back where he had found it, among the queen's clothes.
Astrael left the room, making himself invisible to the guards' eyes, and, as he walked toward the area where the traitors were being held (he wanted to play a little more), he tried to slip into the memories of the body he possessed, to find answers to some doubts he had harbored for a few days. It wasn't easy to discern which memories were true or false, but he still tried to follow the chronological thread of Edgar's life when he was alive. Apparently, he had been a great confidant of the king, and the reason for his resentment toward Grimilde stemmed from his disappointment following the ruler's death; he considered the queen a foreign intruder and hadn't changed his mind even after witnessing her work.
Despite this, Edgar seemed to hide other secrets, and for some reason, Astrael couldn't follow certain memory trails of the body's owner: he pinpointed some confused memories, their vision almost obscured, and the sensory stimuli were muffled by something... but what? What had happened? Edgar had met someone, but the rest was unknown. This unknown being was surely the reason why the man's memories had been tampered with. The mysterious figure wasn't a demon, or so it seemed, since he didn't perceive any demonic presence. Astrael didn't have an in-depth knowledge of distortion and memory manipulation magic, but he would do some research to delve into the matter.
"First, though, a little fun..."
Astrael widened his monstrous smile, his eyes turned red, and he chuckled silently. It was time to take what he deserved. He could erase the traces of his every action, at least in the human realm; no one would catch him torturing the prisoners a bit. And they deserved it; their future had far worse things in store for them.
"Counselor."
When Astrael presented himself before the guards, he made up an excuse about the need to urgently obtain further information from the prisoners, and they let him pass without making a fuss. After all, he was the counselor of the royal family; his work couldn't be hindered!
Astrael entered the prison-like cell holding Quentin Sorton, then realized Ronald Ohniz was locked up somewhere else, probably to prevent them from talking before the trial. No problem, he would deal with him later: he wanted to ask him a few questions about Morfeus before terrorizing him.
The night would be short for the demon, unfortunately, but it was long for other people, one in particular who had been wandering the Terran woods for hours now. A woman who called herself Scarlett had observed from afar what had happened during the Hunt event, and when she sensed a magical barrier, she had secretly infiltrated Morfeus's playground. She had been on the demon's trail for weeks, but apparently, he had been eliminated by another demon before she could reach him. She didn't intend to interfere in the affairs of another kingdom, but it was her responsibility to ensure that demons didn't bring the apocalypse to Earth. The religious order she belonged to had been fighting demons for centuries, and she had begun her training as a child to do so: she practiced the magical arts, knew how to fight, knew the secrets some countries hid regarding demons, and was capable of covering her every track so that no one would know of her existence. It was crucial that it remained so.
"Apparently, there's another one roaming around these parts... but he doesn't seem to come from the North."
The hooded woman was in a tavern in Terran, just any tavern. She had walked for hours and needed to rest; plus, she had to meet her contact before leaving again.
"What do we know about him?"
The man beside her took a sip of beer and pretended to be interested in a card game taking place at the next table.
"He's powerful, more so than Morfeus, and it's possible he made a pact with the queen. Morfeus was on his trail, that much is clear."
"Don't you think it was a conflict of interest? They might have fought over the prey."
"They aren't animals. They don't even reason like human beings. You know—"
"So we don't have any useful information for the investigation? Furthermore, if there is a demon keeper, we can't lower our guard. She might not be alone."
"I remind you where she comes from..." Scarlett lifted her eyes from her glass, meeting those of the man sitting at her table. "The family from the North."
"Those who possess no talents are banished. We've seen it with our own eyes."
"We don't know the details of what happened years ago. The kingdom had descended into chaos... but they hid the truth from other countries. For now, I will continue investigating in Arran."
"Alright. I'll wait for you at the usual place."
Scarlett nodded and said no more: she would see him again in a week at the planned meeting spot. The mysterious woman continued to wander around Terran until she learned that the queen and princess were making their return to the royal palace. She could have infiltrated the palace perimeter, but thanks to her contacts, she knew Grimilde wasn't protected solely by the royal guards and her demon. The latter was already a problem for her; she couldn't risk alerting him to her presence. However, perhaps she could approach in disguise; after all, she was the master of disguises in her group.
They had chosen her specifically for the job because she was the best, the quietest, and the most skilled. Even in dangerous or urgent situations, she kept a clear head and knew how to devise the best escape plan. Her superiors would be proud if she brought back some useful information, in addition to confirming Morfeus's death. Scarlett was her codename—everyone in the Order had one—and they were specifically chosen by superiors to represent the skills and strength of each member. Scarlett was a name that would only be stained by the blood of her adversaries.
"Excuse me, miss?"
A beggar stopped the hooded woman, asking for some change, and Scarlett paused to hand over a few coins.
"May the gods bless you!"
Scarlett said no more and walked away from the main road. She smiled mockingly, thinking of the country she came from and the religious institution she belonged to: yes, she wanted the gods' blessing, but in Atenarte, religious profession was changing. The country was gradually opening up to new cults and traditions ever since a practitioner of the magical arts had been welcomed at court. Magic in Atenarte had never had such a powerful and fascinating face, but Scarlett didn't linger too long on the memories of her homeland and kept moving forward, trying to gather rumors, even if they weren't official information. Apparently, the court counselor frequented certain bars in the capital, and as useless as this news might seem to her investigation, it was necessary to probe every aspect of the demon's life in Arran.
In this regard, Scarlett paused to consider everything she knew: the demon who had taken possession of the body of one of the royal counselors and was involved in current political affairs; it was highly probable that Queen Grimilde was aware of the demon's nature and had formed a contract with him from the very beginning, but to what end? Furthermore, demons were naturally averse to humans, so what had driven the entity to defend the queen when Morfeus had tried to kill her? Scarlett had seen it from afar with her own eyes: he had taken it upon himself to tear Morfeus from the Earth and defend the woman, taking her to safety.
What kind of demonic force did he represent? Morfeus was the possessor of one of the shadow realms, and in the north of the continent, demons like him used to capture wandering souls and sow terror through the mountains. His arrival in Arran was completely unpredictable, senseless, as far as demons could be sensible. She had studied these creatures for years, thanks to the Order and the approval of her empress. The interest in malevolent beings had arisen when they began spreading throughout the Empire, creating chaos and bringing famine, opposing the natural course of the country and the lives of its inhabitants. The empress had allocated funds to the Order so they could deal with the threat without drawing attention.
Scarlett had been operating for two years now, and her master considered her one of the group's best disciples. Being skilled in combat wasn't enough to defend one's life against a demon: it was necessary to be intuitive, intelligent, have dexterity, broad knowledge, the ability to infiltrate anywhere, and live in the shadows. Many members of the Order knew the magical arts, having studied with the court witch and deepened their knowledge of demonic arts to combat them more effectively.
"Scarlett?"
A figure in the shadows stopped her in the alley she was walking down. The woman didn't turn around but listened.
"Any news?"
"The empress has given a new assignment. The Order requires the presence of all members."
"I haven't finished my investigation."
Her frustration wouldn't change things.
"We have far more important problems, but we will make sure to keep an eye on the situation in Arran."
"Alright..."
Scarlet sighed. She couldn't do anything to change things: the empress's orders could not be disputed. She promised herself that she would return to Arran and discover the secrets of Queen Grimilde and the demon by her side; sooner or later, she would have the answers she sought.
"Let's go."
"Did you hear what happened in the Terran province? A massacre!"
"Massacre? What the hell are you talking about, Rold?"
"I heard it with my own ears! One of the guards in the square said it."
"And you think the guards would go around saying there's been a massacre, Rold? Come on! You drank too much as usual, I'm taking you back to your wife."
One of the men sitting at the bar took Rold by the arm and led him out of the tavern. The innkeeper said nothing, but chuckled under his breath.
"Do you believe that madman?"
The innkeeper observed one of his customers and shook his head slowly, continuing to dry the glasses on the counter.
"Who knows... these are unprecedented times."
"What are you talking about?"
"You wouldn't understand..."
The innkeeper's eyes glinted slyly, and before the customer could get agitated and ask more questions, he placed a full glass of beer in front of him.
"This is your last one."
The man chuckled a bit and focused on drinking, leaving alone doubts or other matters that didn't truly interest him.
Meanwhile, the streets of the capital were bustling as they were every day in Arran. There were those selling fruit and vegetables from their stalls, mercantile goods of all kinds, clothes, various animals, and even those who dared to claim they possessed magic manuals. A woman stopped to talk to the fellow who swore he possessed knowledge of the magical arts, and when she started inspecting the books, the merchant thought he had snagged a potential customer. In reality, not even he knew if those books were genuine or just a bunch of useless used junk; he had found them around during his travels and had kept them because they were nice to look at, and someone might fall into one of his usual commercial traps. The woman's face was obscured by the dark veil she wore over her head, but she seemed truly beautiful. Her voice was, too.
"Where did you get these?"
"I don't remember... somewhere past the border. Are you interested by any chance? I can give you a bargain price!"
"Not these..."
The woman seemed captivated by one book in particular and ignored the others. The tome's cover was dark purple with strange symbols decorating the background. The merchant had never bothered to look inside; it was probably just like the other books.
"Hm... this one is interesting. Can you give me a good price?"
The woman's sweet voice would have convinced anyone, even a merchant. He was still a man, after all! Even though he wanted more money, getting rid of that book was a good idea anyway.
"Of course, of course..."
The merchant took the money from the maiden's hands and watched her walk away cheerfully with the newly purchased book clutched in her hands. Who knows what she had found so interesting among those yellowed pages...
"What is it?"
Snow White had returned to the palace, followed by the guards who had been handling her protection without a moment's peace for days. It was unavoidable, she knew that well, but it didn't make it any easier to tolerate. She was used to always having people around, but she missed those moments of freedom where she could breathe and think without feeling watched.
"A book I bought at the market."
Grimilde opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it, shaking her head with a smile.
"What is it?"
The princess bit her lip, watching the queen as she sat down beside her. They were in the royal family's personal library, and no one would disturb them in there. Snow White was always amazed when she saw all those books in one place: she loved getting lost in the pages of manuals, essays, and adventure stories that had helped her endure the loneliness during her childhood; in her years of immature curiosity, she had even hidden among the shelves, unintentionally causing a panic among guards and palace staff.
"Nothing, how about you tell me about this book?"
Grimilde held back a smile by biting her lip: she deeply adored this rebellious side of the princess. It was obvious that leaving the palace would be dangerous for her, but she had deliberately ignored every risk. Of course, if the queen hadn't been certain that there were no dangers inside the capital, near the royal castle, she might have viewed the princess's behavior as impulsive and reckless.
"I think it's something ancient..."
Snow White shifted the book so they could both see it and pulled her chair closer to Grimilde's. She looked at the woman beside her, savoring the warmth and pleasant scent of her proximity: her perfume and the color of the delicate dress she wore reminded her of the blue roses the queen grew in her garden. She was as enchanting as any other day: her hair shone naturally under the afternoon light filtering through the large room's windows, and her eyes were bright and lively.
"Do you recognize anything?"
"I studied books like this for years, but this doesn't seem to come from the North. The language is different."
Snow White knew some languages spoken across the continent and had recognized the writings in the book, even though some words seemed confused and blurred. It was her duty as a princess to know how to converse with foreign nobles or rulers, but she never thought that one day she would use her studies to understand such a mysterious book.
"What are you interested in knowing about this book?"
Grimilde leafed through the tome carefully, tracing the lines of the drawings that stained some of the pages. Snow White couldn't look away from Grimilde's long, elegant fingers, noting her manicured nails, the smooth skin on the back of her hands, and the slightly rougher skin on her palms from the time spent training with a sword.
"Darling?"
At that point, the princess raised her eyes to the blonde and found her face just a few inches from her own.
"Where did you go?"
Grimilde curled her lips into a smile and kissed her on the cheek. The young woman blushed involuntarily. How can I get embarrassed over such a simple gesture? she thought. What will I feel when... Her mind then generated a series of images that were far too sensual for her unprepared heart. Snow White turned even redder and got up from the table, finding some excuse to step away from the queen. She certainly didn't want to let her find out what she was thinking! It was exactly like they wrote in the romance novels she read: love made you go crazy, and the desire for closeness with your partner grew exponentially. It was insatiable!
"Is something troubling you?" the queen asked in a gentle tone, lifting her eyes from the book to follow Snow White's movements.
"No, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about the meeting that will take place in the coming days."
A little lie, the princess thought. In reality, it was also the truth: the Council assembly would take place to discuss the unrest that had occurred recently and reorganize its structure. This was the bare minimum compared to what really needed to be done; unfortunately, it wasn't possible to completely overhaul the governmental system.
"Those cowardly nobles can do very little against the queen and the princess."
At that point, the queen rose from her chair and walked toward the princess to offer her a caress.
"I'm going to my office now to review a few things. If you need anything, don't hesitate to look for me, alright?"
Her blue eyes got lost for a moment in Bianca's, who was captivated and nodded slowly, forgetting even what Grimilde had said. She was too beautiful up close; she took her breath away.
Grimilde narrowed her gaze and smiled, aware of what was happening in the maiden's mind.
"Did you understand?"
"Yes!"
"Good girl."
The blonde looked around for a moment to make sure no one was watching, then met Snow White's lips for a sweet, slow kiss. Their lips met a couple more times, then the regent left the room, leaving the maiden flustered and eager to deepen their intimacy.
"Princess?"
The girl hadn't even realized she had been standing there dazed for several minutes. Mariella approached her with small steps, looking around curiously: she loved books, and being in that library was like a dream for her. If she could, she would read everything she found! She shared this passion with her beloved princess.
"Oh, Mariella, I'm sorry, I was lost in thought."
"Don't worry, Princess. I came to give you something. Rachel brought it a little while ago."
The handmaid was holding a book; the princess only noticed it at that moment. She didn't recognize the cover, nor the title, but something told her this wasn't another essay on magic. Mariella, in fact, blushed as she placed it in Snow White's hands and leaned in to speak in a whisper.
"Rachel said you might appreciate this, although I'm not entirely sure what she meant."
The title certainly didn't help clear things up: Following Your Footsteps, it was called. An enigmatic phrase, but potentially loaded with meaning: was it about an adventure? Snow White loved that genre, just as much as the essays she read on populations to enrich her political and naturalistic knowledge. Learning about foreign cultures, the flora, and fauna of unexplored places was something truly exciting for the princess. She couldn't wait to find out what the book was about!
So, when evening came and she retired to her room, Snow White got onto her bed, grabbing the curious book Rachel had given her. She read the first few pages calmly, getting lost in the world opening up before her eyes. When half an hour had passed since she started reading, Snow White lowered the book and frowned: was it possible that this was a love story between two women? Snow White decided to keep going, to satisfy her curiosity and thirst for knowledge. The pages flew by quickly, until the princess finally decided to set the work down on the sheets, closing her eyes. That story wasn't just about love, it was... rather explicit! What on earth had Rachel given her?
Her face bright red, Snow White decided she would talk to her friend and handmaid the next day. What was going through her head? Although, she had to admit, what she had read was very interesting...