The main hall of the D'Amore residence, usually a sanctuary of silence, was now a tomb of suffocating tension. The candles lining the walls seemed to flicker and die, unable to withstand the creeping darkness that arrived with the new visitors. Duke Cassian stood before the grand mahogany doors, his posture rigid as a statue. To any outsider, he looked like a proud nobleman. But I could see the truth—the slight tremor in his hands hidden behind his back, and the way his jaw was clenched so tight it looked ready to snap.
He was standing on a time bomb. Keringat dingin membasahi tengkuk sang Duke. Setiap detik terasa seperti satu tahun. He knew, one small mistake wouldn't just end his political career, but the lives of everyone in this house. If the Crown Prince ventured just fifty paces toward the west wing, he would find the secret that would lead us all to the executioner's block: the real Bianca, the Empire's most beloved perfumer, lying in a death-like coma.
Suddenly, the heavy doors groaned open, crashing against the walls with a thunderous sound that echoed through the hall.
Atreus, the Crown Prince of Helios, strode in without a word of greeting. His presence was a physical weight. Behind him, dozens of Imperial guards in pitch-black armor marched in unison, the rhythmic thud of their boots echoing against the high-vaulted ceiling like the beat of a war drum, echoing the frantic pounding of my own heart.
But it wasn't the soldiers that terrified the household. It was the scent.
The aroma of Oud and Black Musk crushed the room.
It was heavy, dark, and absolute. It didn't just smell like perfume; it smelled like power, like ancient blood and dark wealth. The fragrance swept through the hall like a predatory storm, forcing the servants to lower their heads. Some even trembled, their knees buckling under the sheer weight of the Prince's aura. In the world of Helios, aroma was soul, and Atreus's soul was a monster that demanded total submission.
At the top of the grand staircase, I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
The Emerald Green silk of my gown felt like ice against my skin. Every stitch, every gemstone encrusted in the bodice, felt like a needle pricking my flesh. The dress was too heavy, as if intentionally designed to anchor my feet so I couldn't run. This dress was a masterpiece, but in this moment, it felt like a gilded coffin. Cyrus stood a half-step behind me, his expression a mask of professional indifference, but his eyes were sharp as razors. He had spent three hours perfecting this deception, ensuring not a single strand of my dark-brown hair was out of place. He was a perfectionist artist, and today, I was his most dangerous canvas.
"Breathe, Agatha," a voice hissed beside me. Cyrus's voice was sharp as a razor but full of warning, barely audible over the clanging armor below. "Remember who you are. Bianca is still water. Do not let your storm rise to the surface. Bianca is never afraid of anything, including the man down there. And for the sake of your life, do not let that fake black rose scent fade. If you lose the scent, you lose your life."
I clenched my fists beneath the folds of silk, my nails digging into my palms to distract from the fear. As I descended, the scent of Oud from the man below pierced my senses. It was suffocating, dark, and masculine. The smell was like an old forest burning in the middle of the night. I had to counter it. I had to project the scent of a concentrated Black Rose—Bianca's signature—even if it was nothing more than essential oil applied by Cyrus behind my ears.
Each step felt like walking toward a guillotine. My dark blue eyes looked straight ahead, trying not to waver. I could feel the stares of the servants, my father's desperate gaze, and the heaviest burden of all... the predatory gaze of the Crown Prince.
Atreus stopped at the base of the stairs. His gaze was cold, sharp, and instantly locked onto me. Those eyes... they didn't look at me as a human. They looked at me as a mystery to be solved.
"Duke D'Amore," Atreus's voice broke the silence, echoing through the now-silent hall. It was low, vibrating with a natural authority that made my skin crawl. "It seems the rumors were true. Your residence hides a very precious treasure."
Duke Cassian bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the floor, his back forming a perfect curve as a sign of exaggerated respect. He was trying to block the path, a desperate, subtle move to keep the Prince away from the stairs, especially toward the corridor leading to Bianca's room. "Your Highness, your sudden visit is a shock... we haven't had the time to prepare a reception worthy of your name. This house is too simple for the presence of the sun of the empire."
"I did not come for a party, Duke," Atreus cut him off coldly. His voice sliced through the air like a sword. "I came to see what makes all the nobles of Helios talk about your daughter."
He stepped forward just as I reached the bottom step. I could feel the temperature around me drop by several degrees. Atreus stood incredibly tall, his black cloak sweeping the floor, and the small crown on his head glittering with a threatening light.
The clash of our aromas happened instantly. The dominant Oud collided with the intense fragrance of the Black Rose. The room felt lethal. My black rose scent tried to spread, searching for a gap in the density of his Oud, but the man's scent was too strong. It seemed to want to swallow my fragrance whole.
"Welcome to our home, Your Highness," I said, forcing a soft yet arrogant tone typical of a high-born lady who knew her worth. I lifted my chin slightly, showing the fake dignity of the D'Amore family. "The D'Amore family is honored by your presence on this quiet night."
Atreus narrowed his eyes. He didn't return my greeting with noble pleasantries. Instead, he stepped forward aggressively until we were only inches apart. A very disrespectful distance according to imperial etiquette, but who dared to reprimand the holder of absolute power?
He leaned in, his face inches from my neck. I could feel the heat of his body radiating through the green fabric of my dress. He took a long, deep breath, inhaling the black rose scent I wore. He seemed to want to draw the very essence from my body.
Behind him, I saw my father—the Duke—turn deathly pale, his face now the color of paper. He looked like he was about to faint, his hands gripping the edge of a nearby display table in fear that his twin daughter's secret would be exposed at that very moment.
Atreus held his position for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. The world seemed to stop spinning. I could hear the loud thumping of my own heart like a war drum, but I held my breath so my chest wouldn't rise and fall too quickly.
Atreus then whispered, his voice so low that only I could hear it. It was a mix of threat and deadly curiosity.
"A beautiful black rose, Lady Bianca..." Atreus smirked faintly, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. That smile made my skin crawl, sending warning signals through my nervous system. "This scent is perfect. Flawless. Like everything in this house."
He paused for a moment, then the pressure of his aura increased twofold.
"But why can't I feel the beat of your soul behind this scent? Why does it feel like I am talking to a beautiful doll covered in perfume?"
Agatha froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Those words were sharper than any dagger. Atreus didn't just smell the rose; he smelled the emptiness. In a world where everyone had a unique soul aroma, a Taboo like me had nothing. I was empty. I was a black hole in the middle of a flower garden.
Did Atreus just realize she was a Taboo without a soul? Or was this man just playing with his prey before destroying it piece by piece?
I stared into Atreus's eyes, trying to find a glimmer of doubt there. But all I found was a deep darkness. I knew, from this moment on, my escape was over, and the real game had just begun.