Chapter 5: The King of Ghosts
The courtyard was deathly still as the violet smoke settled into the damp earth. The carriage driver lay unconscious, pinned to the wood by Killian's massive sword. The faded blue ribbon fluttered slightly in the morning breeze, its frayed ends brushing against the cover of the black book it had impaled.
Alaric slowly lowered the Duke to the ground. "Your Grace, stay behind me," he commanded, his voice shaking.
Killian stepped forward, his boots heavy on the cobblestones. He reached out and ripped his sword from the carriage door. The black ledger fell into the dirt. With the tip of his blade, he flipped the cover open.
Seraphina and Eveline drifted closer, drawn by a morbid, terrifying curiosity. They all looked down at the ink-stained pages.
"This... this isn't my father's handwriting," Seraphine whispered, her breath hitching.
She scanned the names. It wasn't a list of "traitors" to the crown. It was a list of Imperial Council members, each accompanied by a seal of payment and a set of instructions. But as she read the final entries, her blood ran cold.
Plan: The Golden Banquet.
Method: Poisoned Vintage (Astra Vineyard).
Witness: The Saintess.
Executioner: The Commander.
"This was the night the Emperor died," Seraphine whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the memory.
In her past life, the Emperor had died suddenly during a toast. Seraphina, as the Duchess, had been the one to offer him the wine. It was a gesture of loyalty that turned into her death warrant. She had been framed as the regicide assassin, the Traitor Duchess who had poisoned a kind and just ruler.
"We all thought it was a coup from the outside," Evelina gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "The Emperor was so kind... he took the cup from your hand with a smile. I saw you give it to him, Sera. I was the one who verified the poison in his blood."
"Because it was planned by him," Killian's voice was like grinding stone. He looked at the unconscious assassin with the viper ring. "The assassin... he didn't just smile at you, Seraphine. He said 'Reunion.' A man from this timeline wouldn't say that to a girl he's never met."
The blood drained from Seraphine's face. She felt a cold, oily sweat break out across her skin.
"The Emperor we knew... the Kind Emperor'.." she started, her voice shaking. "He didn't just watch us die. He orchestrated his own 'death' to frame me. He poisoned himself just enough to survive, or he had an antidote ready, all to ensure the Astra family was erased."
"And if the assassin knew about a 'reunion'..." Alaric finished, his grip tightening on his shield. "Then the Emperor is a Regressor too. He didn't just watch us die; he hit the reset button along with us. He's been playing this game longer than we have."
The realization was a physical blow. The Emperor hadn't been a victim of Seraphine's poisoned wine. He had used her love and her family's prestige as a stage for his own play. He had framed her for his death so he could justify her execution and seize the Astra lands even going so far as to collude with the Temple to get rid of their Saintess who refuse to take part of it.
Killian turned to her, his expression more pained than ever. He had been the one forced to watch her be interrogated that night. He had been the Executioner on the list.
"He knows," Killian said, his eyes fixed on hers. "He knows we remember. Every move we make to save your father, he will see it coming. He's the one who gave us the poison in the first place."
Seraphina looked at the blue ribbon on Killian's sword, then at her father. The Kind Emperor was the man who had let her rot in a cell for a crime he committed against himself.
"If he wants a reunion," Seraphina said, her voice turning cold and sharp as a winter frost, "then we will give him one. He thinks he's the author of this story because he wears a crown. But a King is nothing without the Knight, the Saintess, and the Commander he betrayed."
She looked at the three of them—the ghosts who had finally found their true enemy.
"We aren't just saving my father anymore," she whispered. "We are going to take the cup back from his hand."