Let's rewind for a bit.
Going back to five minutes earlier... Just when the King had muttered; "Foolish Child".
Without another word, Aefia gracefully knelt before the wooden block. She rested her hands lightly on her lap—allowing her long, pale neck to lay completely bare over the cold, rough stone. She closed her eyes, letting out a long, quiet breath into the morning air.
Kazimir leaned forward from his throne, his breath catching in his throat as the sight nagged at the back of his mind. Why isn't she fighting? Why is she smiling?!
"Die!" the King roared.
With a blinding flash, he brought the massive broadsword down with all his strength.
The heavy steel sliced cleanly through the air—striking with a horrific, dull 'crack' against the wood.
A collective gasp tore through the crowds in the balconies.
Aefia's head severed from her shoulders—tumbling onto the crimson-stained wood of the scaffold before rolling to a stop right at the base of the King's boots. Dark blood soaked across the wooden platform, painting the navy velvet of her gown in violent streaks of red.
The courtyard remained frozen in absolute, suffocating silence.
The King stood panting over the lifeless body, a dark, manic thrill surging through his chest as he raised his bloody blade toward the sky. "Mides' biggest enemy is dead! Mides stands eternal!"
Kazimir let out a ragged breath, slowly sinking back into his throne, trying to push down the icy dread that refused to leave his chest. "It's over... She's actually dead..."
He looked back down at the platform.
Then noticed something usual. His eyes shrinking down to the size of his pupils in broad daylight as he made a run towards the platform.
Just as the celebration was starting, a second pair of light footsteps were heard. Ascending onto the platform with steady feet that meant they were of royal family.
The King turned around.
And froze.
Aefia stood there, wearing a white gown and only a pair of earrings at her ears. She didn't even acknowledge his presence as she walked over to the place the lifeless body lay. Then reached her hand towards the head.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a sad life she had, huh?" She muttered under her breath. Then retracted her hand to rest it against her chin as she made a frowning face. "I was honestly interested in knowing how it would progress if she didn't die."
The crowd went silent. Kazimir, who was rushing down, stood dead straight at the sudden scene.
"What kind of a nonsense is this?!"
But she didn't listen. No one did.
She took a step backward. Then dusted her finger against the fabric of her dress, before snapping them. The air distorted around the lifeless body.
In its place... Stood the King's headless body.
"Oh my! What a tradegy!" She mockingly covered her mouth. "The King! He died! Oh what a shame! It truly is!"
Regardless of what she said, her hand reached out to grab the lifeless head by the hair, and held it up to the air for everyone to see.
Aefia turned her head, looking up at the King's head with a quiet, almost pitying smile.
"You spent three hundred years building a Kingdom out of dark magic and stolen time, Your late Majesty," she said softly, her voice carrying effortlessly across the silent square. "And yet, you never learned that cutting down the actor doesn't stop the play."
With a swift movement, she kicked the head towards the center of the balcony as the crowd spilt like repelling magnets to make way for the head to land...
Thud!
...At the Crown Prince's feet.
Kazimir's gaze immediately flew up to Aefia's place.
She simply tilted her head to the side, and offered a smirk. "Well now... Your Majesty? What is your verdict?"
"What...?" The ghost of the King asked, staring at Aefia with a confused face.
Despite the guards immediately sprawling around her with their spears, she continued to be wicked.
Silence flowed through the entire place.
"Don't act so clueless, your Majesty. You were the one who made this one 'special request' when I was imprisoned for the past month in the dungoens." She added a short while later.
"Confess... You are your father's real murderer."
The dead King gasped, his eyes following through the crowd towards his own son—whom he had trusted deeply to keep the Kingdom safe.
While Kazimir stared in shock, she simply muttered something soundless that he could clearly hear...
"You can't guarantee I won't."
That one warning she kept spewing every single day at their faces since that day she was imprisoned for high treason.
A laugh escaped the back of his throat as he buried his face into his hand.
Aefia stood still, watching with her eyes narrowed down at his weird reaction.
"Interesting... Truly interesting..." He mumbled, getting up on his feet. Then turned to the rest of the crowd.
"Yes... I did ask her to do that."
***
Twenty-two days earlier.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Clunck.
"I see you are quite silent today... They are saying you aren't touching your food or begging to be released yet." A voice flowed into the cell, echoing with a volume that nearly made her think he was going to plot something against her.
"I am not feeling like I am hungry or need to walk around. I will simply ask when I need to." She slowly lifted her head up to glare at him. "Besides... Why are you specificallg visiting me today? That too, privately?"
Kazimir let out a chuckle, stepping towards the bars. "You are sharp as always. Though if I were you, I would refrain from using it as much as possible."
"Sorry, your Highness. But it is a habit of mine I cannot overcome even if I tried." She replied politely. "I was grown in such an environment, my brain things it is a survival mechanism now."
"No, don't worry about it. I get it," he said, before unlocking the cell and stepping in. "I heard you have history helping someone become the 'Countess'. I was wondering if it was just a rumor."
"No, it isn't." She answered. "It would be Countess Elanor."
"However, for her lack of intelligence, she is currently sleeping in the Smod Palace's underground dungoens."
"..."
"No... seriously. Sleeps in the underground dungeons?" Kazimir asked, a low, smooth laugh vibrating in his throat as he crossed his arms, leaning casually against the damp stone wall inside her cell. "How tragic. A pawn discarded the moment her usefulness expired. But then again, I suppose that is the fate of anyone foolish enough to believe they can trade with the Imperial Crown Princess."
Aefia sat back on her heels, her heavy iron chains clanking softly against the floor. The dark bruises running along her forearms throbbings with a dull, constant ache. Yet, her crimson eyes remained focused, tracking every split-second expression on his face.
"She wasn't a pawn, your Highness. She was an investment that failed to deliver a return," Aefia corrected quietly, her voice smooth and devoid of any prisoner's meekness. "And I don't discard my investments—they simply pay for their own interest however they seem fit.
"But I doubt you walked all the way down to this filth just to discuss the domestic failures of Smod's nobility."
"No," Kazimir admitted, his smile fading into something much darker, much more precise. He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over her matted hair and the dry, bloodied gash on her temple.
"I came because I am a pragmatic man, Aefia. And pragmatism demands that I recognize talent—even when it comes wrapped in the hide of my kingdom's worst enemy."
"Pragmatism?" She let out a small, breathy scoff, wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheek with the back of her bruised wrist. "Or desperation? The Mides Crown looks heavy on your father's head, yet I hear the shadow it casts is choking the life out of you."
Kazimir's eyes narrowed slightly, a sharp glint of irritation flashing through his golden iris before he smothered it with a cold smirk.
"My father has ruled Mides for over four decades now, that too using the forbidden dark magic—alongside three hundred years of rotting from the inside out, dragging the entire realm down into his stagnant, paranoid grave. He sees enemies in every shadow—including his own blood."
"I could tell... They say apple doesn't fall far from the tree," she interrupted.
He stayed silent for a while, then sighed. "I will forgive you for what you had told me before about yourself—"
"He doesn't trust you," Aefia stated flatly. It wasn't a question; it was an absolute fact.
"He trusts no one," Kazimir countered, stepping closer until the toe of his polished leather boot brushed against the frayed hem of her dirty uniform. "And you know I came here for a very special request relating this."
"..."
"He clings to the throne like a dying leach. Every year he absorbs more dark magic to prolong his miserable life, the power of the royal lineage degrades. He will bury this entire kingdom in rot before he ever hands the crown to me."
"And so, the dutiful Crown Prince seeks a subtle hand to remove the obstacle," Aefia murmured, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "How poetic. A son plotting patricide in the very dungeon where he keeps his executioner's greatest trophy."
Kazimir knelt down, bringing his face level with hers. The sickly, faint odor of dark magic clung to his skin, but beneath it lay the sharp, metallic tang of raw ambition. "You want Mides destabilized. I want the throne. My father stands in the way of both."
"And what makes you think I would ever help you?" Aefia asked, her voice dropping to a icy whisper. "You pried my engagement ring from my finger and sold it to black-market scum for gambling money. Your guards smashed my head against these walls until I bled out on the slate. You locked me in dark iron and let me rot for days. You are not my ally, Kazimir. You are merely the slightly younger monster in this castle."
"But I am the monster who holds the key to your cell," Kazimir reminded her, his tone dropping into a threatening register. "You think your little friends—Cedric, Rosetta, that pathetic Queen—are safe out in the woods? You think your little plan will save you when the King decides he's had enough of your arrogant mouth and commands your head on a spike?"
Aefia didn't flinch. She simply stared at him with a blank face. "I don't need saving, Prince Kazimir. I am right where I chose to be."
Kazimir stared at her for a long, quiet moment, trying to search her face for a sliver of panic, a twitch of hesitation—anything that would prove she was human. Finding nothing, he let out a harsh, dry breath and stood up, dusting off his trousers.
"You are insane," he said, though there was a hint of genuine fascination in his voice. "A true freak of nature."
"I am a tactician," Aefia corrected calmly. "And a tactician knows that a kingdom with two heads will eventually tear itself apart. You want your father dead, but you cannot kill him yourself. The royal bloodline's oath array would tear your core to shreds if you struck the regicidal blow directly. You need a proxy. Someone whose execution can double as an assassination."
Kazimir froze. The smirk completely vanished from his face, replaced by a pale, shocked stillness. "You... you knew about the oath array?"
"I know everything that breathes within these stone walls, your Highness," she said, leaning her head back against the cold granite cell wall. "And I guess since you and I have a same enemy... It won't hurt to carry out your special request. I will have the King cut his own head."
"And the crowd?" Kazimir asked, his heart hammering against his ribs as the sheer genius—and madness—of her proposal sank into his mind. "The nobles? The ministers?"
"The crowd will obviously consist of nobles who have ever so wanted him dead. It won't be a problem," Aefia said, tilting her head slightly to offer him a chilling smile. "You will get your throne, your clean hands, and your legacy. And in return..."
"In return?" Kazimir prompted, leaning in.
"In return, when the time comes, you grant my 'special request' on the day of the trial," Aefia whispered, her voice like silk drawn over steel. "You select my execution date. You stage the grand spectacle. You bring him down to the block yourself."
Kazimir stared at the young third Aethalgard kneeling in the dirt before him. She was bleeding, starved, bruised, and shackled—yet in that moment, he felt an icy terror settle deep within his bones. He was not making a deal with a prisoner.
He was signing a contract with a monster that had willingly walked into a cage just to map the lock.
A slow, manic grin slowly spread across Kazimir's face, breaking his composure into sharp, ambitious fragments.
"Deal," he whispered, turning toward the iron door. "I will make sure the executioner gives you whatever little luxuries you ask for before the end."
"How generous," Aefia murmured as the heavy door slammed shut and the key turned in the lock.
As soon as Kazimir took a turn on his heels to walk away—
"But your Highness," she whispered.
He turned his head over his shoulder, looking at her with a questioned gaze.
"How are you certain..." she continued, "that I won't betray you and frame you back for your actions?" A smirk finding its way onto her lips.
He turned around fully to face her. "I suppose I won't mind. Afterall... You have a good reason behind why you do what. I like that logic. Actually... You ought to tell everyone about this trade we had that day."
She let out a laugh. It echoed like it had never.
"And if I still wish to run this Kingdom to the soil?" She tilted her head to the side a bit. "It is amusing to think that actually... Because I have a feeling you have something reserved for me in your mind. Afterall...
"Aren't you the same serial killer who has been aiming me for the past two years. And it all started with when I saved Cedric two years ago."
He stayed quietly listening. "Are you done?"
"Don't get irritated your Highness... Because you can't guarantee I won't."