Chapter 527: A Night of Sweet and Shadow
The night deepened, shadows folding over the earth until only the moon’s silver glow remained, bathing the world in a hushed stillness.
From the illuminated balcony, Anna gazed at the lanterns flickering in the garden below, their light sparkling like fireflies in the darkness. She had ascended from the dining hall after dinner, while Kyren went to see his knights to sort out some matters.
A cool breeze swept across her face, gentle but not biting, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth. She drew in the air slowly, letting its calmness settle in her chest.
Above, the moon that was no longer full yet still radiant, hung like a watchful guardian in the sky. A veil of stars scattered around it, shimmering faintly as if keeping it company.
"Now, what is my lovely wife doing here?"
Kyren’s low, raspy voice slipped into her ears just as his arms circled her waist from behind, pulling her into the warmth of his embrace.
Anna smiled. Though wrapped in a heavy coat, nothing compared to the comfort of his hold.
His scent—the subtle hint of musk and leather—enfolded her as she leaned back into the solid wall of his chest. His presence soothed her, anchoring her as always.
"I’m just taking in the night air. Isn’t it wonderful, Kyren?" she murmured, eyes lifted towards the moon in the sky.
"It is wonderful because you are here with me. Any night would be beautiful with you around," he said, voice deepened by affection.
"Such a sweet-talker you are!" Anna teased, her smile widening.
"Oh, I’m not just good at sweet-talking..." His tone grew playful as his lips brushed near her ear. "I’m excellent at persuading my sulking wife."
Anna laughed softly, shaking her head.
"Haa... my handsome husband is so full of confidence."
"Confidence?" His grin curved on his cheek. "I have more than just that. Let’s just say I possess something that will make you melt, even in your deepest anger."
Anna spun around to meet his figure, curiosity sparkling in her emerald eyes as she looked him in the eyes.
"And what is that, hmm? What do you have?"
Kyren’s smile lingered, a secret glint in his gaze.
"I’ll give you a hint. It’s a fruit and it will arrive in several carts tomorrow morning. All for you."
The princess’s breath caught, her eyes widening as excitement leapt into them like a flame.
"Snow apples! It’s snow apples, isn’t it?" Her voice rose with childlike glee, eyes shimmering as if the stars above had dropped into them.
Kyren chuckled, pleased.
"Yes, my love. The fruit you’ve been craving so much. Forgive me for taking so long. It isn’t easy to find men willing to travel into the mountains in this weather."
"Oh, Kyren!"
Anna seized his hands, her joy overflowing. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" She nearly bounced in delight, but his hold tightened around her protectively.
"Careful now." His tone was gentle, but his gaze sharpened with concern. "Don’t you remember that you’re with a child?"
"My apologies! I got too excited that I almost forgot!" the princess exclaimed as she recalled her condition.
Kyren laughed again a little, rubbing her head gently.
"Just be careful. We don’t want our baby hurt."
"Right!" Anna nodded fervently, her hands instinctively pressing against her stomach.
"Mother will always protect you, my sweetheart," she whispered in a voice full of affection as she looked down at her belly.
Seeing her radiant joy, Kyren felt his chest warm with love. At that moment, it seemed as though the world had given him everything he could ever want. And yet, he longed to give her more—to restore fragments of the happiness she had lost long before they met.
"I also have a surprise for you," he said softly.
Anna’s head snapped up, her emerald eyes brightening with curiosity.
"What is it?"
The grand duke carefully drew out a leather container from beneath his cloak and placed it in her hands. With a delicate touch, Anna unfastened it and unrolled the parchment inside. Her breath caught as she saw the content.
It was a sketch of a woman’s face, graceful and serene.
"I meant to give this to you earlier," Kyren said, watching her closely. "But duty at the palace and the discussion with my men kept me longer than I thought."
Anna’s eyes lingered on the sketch, her brows knitting with wonder.
"Who is she?" she asked.
"This is Princess Angela, your mother. I saw her when I was very young, and again, recently, her image came to me in a dream on my way to Ardel. I had Damon sketch her from my memory, so you could see the woman she was."
The princess’s hands trembled as she held the parchment. Her heart clenched painfully, as though the distance of all those years pressed down upon her at once.
She had never known her mother’s touch, her voice, her embrace—only stories whispered and the silence of absence. And yet here she was, her face staring back at Anna for the very first time.
Tears blurred her vision. Her chest rose and fell with the ache of a longing that had no remedy.
Angel, her mother... the woman who gave her life... who sacrificed everything so she could live, yet never had the chance to hold her.
"She-she was so beautiful," Anna sobbed, her voice breaking as tears finally spilt down her cheeks.
Kyren let her grief and wonder pour out as he wiped her tears.
"She was," he acknowledged. "Prince Kiev called her ’Angel’. He told me once that she bore your grandfather’s features, the late emperor. But you... You are the very likeness of your grandmother, Empress Regina. Only your hair comes from your mother."
"Oh..." Anna murmured. "No wonder the Marquess of Sylvere mistook me for her when his illness struck during the Mid-Autumn Festival."
"You are right," Kyren replied, his tone carrying a grim note. "Though his mind has been severely eroded by the remnants of dark magic, his loyalty runs so deep that he still remembers her."
Anna’s face fell, sadness softening her countenance. "He’s a good man and loyal to my family. I wish I could cure him. He has suffered too long."
Kyren gently took her hand, rubbing it with a slow touch. "You can’t," he said firmly. "You are not in a state to use magic, and even if you are, I won’t allow it. The risk is too great. Even Prince Kiev was severely affected upon saving you from that possession."
Anna lowered her gaze, her lashes shadowing her downcast eyes. Helplessness weighed on her, but she said nothing.
"Don’t be sad," Kyren said, tilting her chin up slightly with his fingers. "I won’t let the Marquess of Sylvere’s devotion be in vain. I’ll speak with Prince Kiev. If healing him is possible, he and I will attempt it, not you or anyone else. I can’t risk your safety, our child or the others."
The princess nodded in understanding. His caution, though stern, was laced with care. They were expecting their first heir, and she knew her choices could no longer be reckless.
The fragile spark of new life within her depended on them—most of all, on her. The thought sent a swell of gratitude through Anna’s chest, softening her heart. She leaned into Kyren, letting his arms close firmly around her waist.
"I only want everyone to be happy, not just us," Anna said softly.
"I know. You always think of others before yourself. But sometimes, with all that empathy, you forget to prioritise what truly matters. For me, you and our child are my top concern now. I’ll do everything to keep you both safe," Kyren replied firmly.
"You’re right. I should be thinking about us more," she admitted.
A sudden thought struck her, and she lifted her gaze to her husband.
"When you went to the palace today... did you speak with the king about the throne’s heir?" Her voice carried a mix of curiosity and unease.
"I did. And as expected, my brother already has it in his head to name our child as heir, regardless of gender, convinced that they would be the best fit for the throne."
Anna’s eyes widened.
"Oh, no!"
Kyren, however, stayed calm.
"Don’t worry. I made it clear to him that he should sire his own son for that purpose. I also reiterated that your decision not to involve our child in Cassian’s royal politics remains unchanged. And my brother knows better than to defy the empress’s word."
Anna released a deep sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness!"
Then, a laugh escaped her lips. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Come to think of it, we’re of one mind. Queen Emelda hinted at the same thing to me. Do you know what I told her?"
Kyren arched a brow, intrigued.
"What did you say?"
"I told her we’ll remain here through the season and only depart for Gerhard in spring. That way, you’d still be around to help, and the king and she would have more time together... they’ll have the perfect chance to put effort into making babies." Her tone was light and delighted.
Kyren chuckled and playfully pinched her nose.
"Naughty, aren’t you? Since when did you start playing cupid?"
"Since my romantic husband told me I’m his most beloved... that he can’t live without me... that he dreams of kissing me and holding me every night... and that he nearly loses his mind whenever I’m out of his sight," Anna teased with a mischievous grin.
Kyren bent close, his smile curving against her cheek.
"Your words grow bold, my wife. If I didn’t know better, I might think you were trying to seduce me."
Her eyes shimmered with mischief.
"And if I am?" she murmured in an alluring tone.
"Then don’t blame me... for claiming this."
Kyren lowered his head, his lips brushing her forehead with reverence before finding her mouth in a slow, tender, and certain kiss. This was an unspoken vow, yet stronger than any words of devotion or promise.
Anna melted into him while he cupped her cheeks. The kiss reminded her she was safe, cherished, and loved.
For a moment, the surroundings themselves seemed to fade. The cold night air, the distant murmur of the mansion, all hushed away until there were only them.
Just when they were lost in the sweetness of each other—time blurring, hearts beating only for one another—an angry shout tore through the night air.
The couple broke apart, startled. Anna turned toward the garden below, where voices rose in discord. Two figures emerged in the garden: Callis at the front, storming away, and Rafe behind her, giving chase.
The sight raised her eyebrows, for it was usually the Mederian princess who pursued her husband with unyielding devotion, not the other way around.
An altercation had broken out by the time Rafe caught up with Callis. From above, it was clear that the tension between them was more than a passing disagreement. The Mederian princess stood her ground, defiant, and refused to yield.
"Kyren, I think they’re fighting," Anna whispered in concern. "This isn’t like them. Should we help?"
Kyren leaned slightly over the balustrade; his sharp ears catching fragments of their words carried on the night air. A low hum escaped him, and he shook his head.
"They’re quarrelling over personal matters," he said calmly. "This is not for us to interfere in."
Anna frowned, doubting his opinion.
"Are you certain?"
Kyren turned to her with a reassuring smile.
"They are husband and wife. They’ll find their way through it. Don’t trouble yourself too much." His tone was confident, before he added, "Now, why don’t we go inside? It’s getting late."
Anna cast one last lingering glance at the pair below, still uneasy but surrendering to his words. Kyren took back the parchment, rolled it up, and returned it to the leather container.
"I’ll turn this into a proper painting, frame and hang it," he promised. "I intended to wait till then, but when I saw the sketch, I couldn’t resist showing you the first draft."
A soft smile spread on Anna’s face.
"I would love that. Thank you, Kyren."
"You’re welcome, my love."
The grand duke slid his arm securely around her waist. Together, they turned and walked back inside, leaving behind the scene of another couple bickering in a storm of anger.
***
[Meanwhile, far away from them, in the middle of a forest...]
’Dumm!’
A massive explosion rocked the night, sending the nocturnal crawlers and critters scurrying for their lives.
A monstrous, blackened hand with claws like curved blades tore through fire, sending a towering tree at the edge of the oasis toppling.
It crashed among the canopies of the sanctuary, its crown aflame, embers scattering like dying stars. The tree had withstood strike after strike, but the last blow had broken it beyond endurance.
Brone lowered his grotesque right hand, flexing the clawed fingers as a slow, eerie smile spread across his face. His black eyes burned with a sinister satisfaction.
Once, he had been a scarred and broken man, his face marred, his neck branded with burns, and his right arm severed.
But now—reborn in shadow—his skin was smooth, his youth restored, and his missing limb replaced by the abomination that pulsed with unholy power.
From the cavern mouth behind the sanctuary, another figure emerged.
At first glance, he seemed almost like a harmless younger man, slender and draped in a plain long robe. His pale face was framed by the hood that hung loosely over his brow, his eyes glinting with sly amusement.
"Are you practising..." Derek asked, carrying the edge of mockery, "...or simply indulging yourself?"
Brone turned, the grin never leaving his face, as the mage’s words cut through the smoke-filled air.
"You told me to get control of my new hand and hone my skill. Are you saying you’re bored now?" Brone asked, his voice carrying an almost arrogant edge as he glanced over his shoulder at his companion.
The change in him after the dark-magic ritual under the full moon was remarkable. He no longer looked like the broken man he once had been.
The scars and burns had vanished, his face and neck were smooth, and the missing arm was replaced with that strange black hand with long, deadly claws. Power pulsed through him like a living force.
Derek had changed, too. The mage looked younger, as promised—Anna’s blood had given back the stolen years for him. He wore the light of youth, but there was a hardness in his eyes.
"You almost got us killed when you first tried to use it," Derek scoffed.
He looked toward the oasis canopy. Half the trees that had once stood there now lay destroyed, toppled by Brone’s fervent practice with his new hand. The cosy sanctuary had become a field of char and splintered trunks.
"Thckk!" Brone clicked his tongue, annoyed by the criticism that was, admittedly, true. "How was I to know its power would be so great?"
Derek opened his right palm, and a fireball bloomed to life at his gesture. The flame was not ordinary orange but cold blue—deceptive at first, but its heat and energy were fiercer than normal fire.
"It is great, indeed," Derek agreed. "That princess’s blood is far stronger than we expected. She is of a special breed. I have a feeling she isn’t just a direct descendant of the Ro’an emperor. There’s hidden power in her we haven’t yet seen."
Brone’s mouth curled into a savage grin as he turned to the mage.
"If I’d known I could have power like this, I’d have cut my own hand off a hundred times and drained every drop of her blood!"
"Don’t be stup*d," Derek sneered, angered by Brone’s reckless thought. "You would’ve killed her, and we would have gained nothing!"
"I’m only saying!" Brone hissed. "D*mn her! Behind that meek face, she reserves all these powers for herself! How did I miss it the first time? We would have gained so much more if we’d had her then!"
"Crying over spilt milk won’t change anything," Derek said coldly. "What’s important now is to preserve this power and use it to achieve our ambition. We must have the princess."
"We will get her!" Brone declared. "Remember the secret passage we found at the mansion? We’ll use that to sneak in. Once inside, we’ll rampage through and take her by force. With this monstrous hand, I can take any troop at any time. Those useless knights and the grand duke will succumb to me!"
Derek narrowed his eyes, thinking. The plan was reckless, but the idea of using the secret passage was clever. His search magics confirmed Anna still stayed at the Gerhard mansion; getting there would be possible. Still...
"What if the princess has already discovered her power? Wouldn’t that put us at risk?" Derek asked.
Brone waved the concern away.
"We watched her. That training she went through was nothing more than a joke. She knows nothing of true fighting and must be clueless about her lineage. Otherwise, why would she have hidden herself in Ardel’s castle for so long?"
Derek rubbed his lower lip, brooding. After a moment, he offered another thought.
"I have a better idea."
"What?"
"I’ll let you know. You haven’t tested your power against animals or humans yet, have you?" the mage asked.
"Obviously not! But I would love to see some bodies burn!" Brone spat, his dark eyes lighting with excitement.
"Those odd men are still around," Derek said. "I can sense them still searching for us. Luckily, I raised my barrier as soon as I regained my powers, which stopped them from getting here. But they haven’t given up."
"Hah! Their determination is admirable. Can’t wait to taste their blood!" Brone snarled in his mocking.
"Then..." Derek’s smile was slow and hungry. "Shall we?"