152. Two Faced Player Part 1

Few years ago, Jade Estate, Ancorna Capital City, Ancorna Empire

The dying embers of twilight cast long shadows across the gilded cage of a bedroom—a space more prison than chamber, its opulence betrayed by the heavy manacles bolted to the bedposts and the faint, ever-present hum of magic from the slave collar around the girl sitting on the bed’s throat.

A Young Kenric perched on the edge of the embroidered duvet, a well-worn storybook spread across his lap. His voice had been bright as he recounted the tale, fingers tracing the faded illustrations of the Saintess wielding her Tri-Staff against the Witch. But now, as he closed the book, the forced cheer in his tone cracked like thin ice over dark water.

"And that’s how Hero Luminous used the Universal Origin to forge the Tri-Staff," he’d declared, "so the Saintess could strike down the Witch once and for all!"

The Girl had smiled, a fragile, practiced thing—her skeletal fingers clutching the blanket to hide their trembling. "T-That’s amazing, Kenric!" The excitement in her voice was a performance to match his own, both ignoring the bruises mottling her wrists beneath the shackles.

Now, Kenric reached for the chipped bowl on the windowsill, the broth inside long gone cold. He tore a piece of bread with deliberate care, dunking it until the liquid saturated every pore. "You promised, Anna" he murmured, holding it to her lips. "One more bite after the story."

Anna obeyed, her teeth scraping his fingertips as she took the offering. But as she swallowed, her gaze drifted to the barred window. "She’ll come back, won’t she?" The question slithered into the silence. "No matter how many times the Saintess kills her… the Witch always returns." A hollow laugh. "Evil has the blessing of never dying."

The bowl nearly slipped from Kenric’s grip.

For a heartbeat, all he could see were the chains—the way they bit into her ankles, the raw flesh beneath the iron. The collar’s enchantment pulsed like a second heartbeat against her throat.

"But so does the Saintess," he said at last, tearing another piece of bread with unnecessary force. "Which means good, real good has the same blessing."

The next words came in a rush, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Anna. I come of age tomorrow."

All pretense of lightness vanished.

Her pupils dilated. "Brother, no—"

"I’m stealing the emerald diadem from Father’s vault." His knuckles whitened around the bowl. "Its worth could buy your freedom twice over. Break the collar’s spell. Get us both across the border."

Anna lunged forward, chains clanking. "He’ll kill you!"

"I’d rather die trying than watch you wither in this room another winter!" The outburst left him shaking. He forced a breath. "I’m only telling you so… so you’re prepared. If I fail."

The final morsel of bread hovered between them, soggy with broth and something saltier.

Kenric stood abruptly, the bowl clattering onto the sill. "By this time next week," he vowed, "we’ll be lying in some field beyond the mountains. Watching clouds. Not a chain in sight."

The door clicked shut behind him.

Solious Cathedral, Imperial Palace, Imperial District, Ancorna Capital City, Ancorna Empire

The cathedral's towering stained-glass windows cast fractured rainbows across the marble floors, the sacred silence shattered by Emperor Andrew's booming voice. His footsteps echoed like thunderclaps as he paced before the altar, his crimson robes swirling around him like a storm cloud.

"I have had enough of her!" The Emperor's fist came down on an ornate pew, making the votive candles tremble. Before him stood High Priest Caldus, his ceremonial vestments heavy with gold thread, his expression caught between piety and pragmatism.

Across the nave, sprawled lazily across a velvet-cushioned bench, The Young Princess Ravenna rested her chin on one hand, her bored gaze drifting along the portraits of legendary knights that lined the walls. The sunlight streaming through the windows caught the silver embroidery of her scandalously slit gown, making her seem almost ethereal, a living embodiment of the indulgence that so infuriated her father.

"She spent a budget equivalent to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in two weeks!" Andrew roared, pointing an accusatory finger at his daughter. The veins in his temple stood out like cords. "While laborers riot in the streets asking for a decrease in wage taxes!"

High Priest Caldus sighed, his aged hands folded within his voluminous sleeves. "Your Majesty, if we forcibly restrain Her Highness from indulging without a legal cause—we risk invoking Goddess Herptian's wrath." His eyes flickered to Ravenna, who was now examining her nails with theatrical disinterest. "The consequences could be...divinely unpleasant."

"I don't care!" The Emperor's shout sent a flock of doves nesting in the rafters into panicked flight. "The treasury isn't—"

"Hear me, Your Majesty," Caldus interjected smoothly. "Reduce her budget, but permit her to take lovers. Herptian demands lust as much as luxury." He gestured to the cathedral's frescoes, where the said goddess was depicted in various states of revelry trying to entice Goddess Solious. "Balance the scales of her faith."

Andrew froze mid-pace. "What?"

The High Priest nodded sagely. "Princess Ravenna has already fulfilled her participation in the Festival of Lust. But Herptian's appetite is...ongoing." A meaningful pause. "Kept men would be far cheaper than her current expenditures."

For a long moment, the only sound was the distant chanting of acolytes. The Emperor's gaze swung between the priest and his daughter—the former serene, the latter now smirking like a cat presented with cream.

Finally, Andrew exhaled through his nose. "We will discuss this with the Empress," he paused and continued "Then decide."

Ravenna sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she rose in a swirl of silk. "How thrilling," she drawled, sauntering toward the great oak doors. "Do send word when you've finished negotiating my virtue, father."

The cathedral doors boomed shut behind her, leaving only the scent of incense and simmering fury in her wake.

Jade Jewelry Workshop and Store, Imperial Market District, Ancorna Capital City, Ancorna Empire

The fading afternoon light bled through the workshop's leaded windows, casting elongated shadows across displays of glittering gemstones. Outside, the distant roar of labor protests echoed through the snow-choked streets, their chants muffled by the thick velvet drapes drawn against both the cold and the unrest.

Kenric hovered near the entrance, his fingers absently adjusting the arrangement of amethyst brooches as he monitored the door. The bell above it jingled sharply, and in swept Noah Jade, his fur-lined cloak dusted with snow, his face pinched with the day's frustrations.

"Father," Kenric murmured, the picture of filial devotion as he rushed forward to take the heavy coat. He made a show of brushing off the snowflakes, his movements practiced and precise, before hanging it neatly on the brass rack.

Noah sank into his high-backed chair with a grunt, his eyes scanning the ledger before him. "You should all take Kenric as an example," he announced to the workshop, his voice dripping with condescension. "Even if he is a disgusting Conley spawn, he works like a loyal dog."

Laughter rippled through the room. Kenric kept his head down, his expression blank as he resumed dusting the displays. His fingers paused when he noticed a hairline fracture in one of the violet sapphires, a flaw that would cost the house dearly if discovered. With a deft flick of his wrist, he turned the gemstone over, hiding the imperfection.

"Gods, these labor protests are ruining us," Noah muttered, slamming the ledger shut. "As if the winter shortages weren't enough—" frustrated shouts continued in Noah’s office.

"Why does he keep that Conley-blooded bastard around?" one apprentice whispered to another near the polishing wheel.

The second shrugged. "He's still his son, I suppose. Cheap labor."

Kenric tuned them out, his attention fixed on the door as he polished a display case near the entrance. Then—

The bell chimed again.

A hush fell over the workshop as the Unruly Princess herself swept in, her midnight-blue gown whispering against the hardwood floors. Ravenna Solarius stood framed in the doorway, her sharp features illuminated by the lantern light, her dark eyes scanning the room with regal indifference. Behind her, six armored knights took up positions along the walls, their hands resting on their sword hilts. A severe-looking maid with chestnut hair and wire-rimmed glasses followed at her heels, a ledger already open in her hands.

Kenric froze, the cloth stilling in his grip.

"What kind of gems do you sell here?" Ravenna demanded, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Noah scrambled to his feet in his office, nearly overturning his inkwell in his haste to bow. "Y-Your Highness! What an honor—"

But Kenric wasn't listening. As Ravenna's gaze swept over him briefly, dismissive. A plan began to crystallize in his mind.

This, he realized, could be the opportunity he has been waiting for.

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