Chapter 5.5 : The Masquerade of the Damned
The silver trumpets had barely ceased their echo when the courtyard was swarmed. Caspian, the young messenger, dismounted with a bright, eager energy that felt painfully out of place amidst the heavy tension of the Astra manor. He stepped into the foyer, holding a scroll bound in gold silk and sealed with the Imperial Sun.
"Lady Seraphina!" Caspian beamed, bowing low. He looked at her with such genuine, wide-eyed admiration that it made Seraphine's stomach churn. "His Imperial Majesty has sent me with a most joyous announcement! He wishes to celebrate the Astra family's enduring loyalty. He has moved the Golden Banquet forward—a reunion of the Empire's finest, to be held in just three days."
He extended the invitation to her, his hands steady and his smile warm. "He spoke so highly of you, My Lady. He said he couldn't wait to see the Lady who 'stole the light of the sunflower field.' He even sent a private message: he looks forward to the toast you will share."
Seraphine took the scroll, her fingers icy. Behind Caspian, the Black Wing knights stood like silent, iron statues. While Caspian chatted about the guest list and the palace decor, Seraphina noticed two of the knights quietly slipping away toward the back corridors. They weren't there for a public investigation; they were moving with the practiced silence of men on a secret mission.
Meanwhile, in the Wine Cellars...
Beneath the manor the air was cold and thick with the scent of fermenting grapes. Killian stood in the shadows, his hand already on the hilt of the sword . He had heard the soft scuff of boots long before the two Black Wing knights rounded the corner of the wine racks.
When they saw the Commander standing there, they didn't draw their weapons. Instead, they froze, then dropped to one knee in a salute.
"Commander Killian! We did not expect to find the Empire's Shield here," the lead knight whispered, his voice hushed and urgent.
Killian's eyes narrowed, his crimson gaze predatory in the dim light. "Explain yourselves. Why are you sneaking through the Duke's private cellar like common thieves?"
"Sir, we are acting on anonymous information," the knight replied, looking up with an expression of duty. "A tip was sent to the Palace claiming that the Astra vintage intended for the Golden Banquet has been tainted with a lethal poison. The Emperor was deeply troubled. He didn't want to believe it—he didn't want to insult the Duke's honor by launching a public investigation that would ruin his reputation."
The knight lowered his head. "His Majesty ordered us to conduct the search in total secrecy. If the tip is false, the Duke never has to know his loyalty was questioned. If it is true... well, that is why we are here. Since you are the highest-ranked Imperial Knight, sir, we are relieved to find you. We can proceed with your oversight to ensure the Emperor's safety is secured without causing a scandal for the Duchess."
Killian's heart turned to lead. The gaslighting was absolute. The Emperor hadn't just framed Seraphina; he had made his men believe he was protecting her by searching her cellar in secret. By involving Killian as the oversight,the Emperor was forcing Killian to either find the poison his men were surely carrying to plant, or be branded a traitor for overlooking it.
"He told us the Duke might be framed by enemies of the throne," the second knight added. "He said he trusts no one but us—and you, Commander—to handle this with the delicacy a woman of her standing deserves."
Killian looked at the two men. They truly believed they were heroes on a mission of mercy. He looked down at his hand, then at the guard's boot.
"Delicacy," Killian repeated, the word tasting like ash. "You speak of duty while standing in the home of the woman the Emperor has already condemned in his heart."
"Sir?" the knight asked, confused.
Killian didn't answer. He realized that if he stopped them now, it would be reported as "The Commander interfered with a secret safety check." The Emperor had boxed him in using his own rank.
Back in the Foyer...
"And the Emperor even mentioned a specific vintage!" Caspian was saying, leaning in toward Seraphine. "The one from the 10th-year harvest. He said it was your father's favorite."
Seraphine's smile stayed fixed, but her eyes were cold. That was the harvest they were investigating below. She could feel the trap closing. The Emperor was playing the part of the concerned, trusting friend so well that even his soldiers didn't know they were the executioners.
"He is so thoughtful," Seraphina said, her voice a hollow whisper. "To take such an interest in our cellar... in secret."
She looked at the floorboards, imagining Killian standing among the barrels. He's using your honor against you, Killian, she thought. He's making you the witness to my 'crime.'