Mistress Lily's Chamber
Ella barely has time to catch her breath before the voice reaches her ears, smooth, unhurried, and edged with quiet authority.
"Ella."
She freezes.
Mistress Lily stands near the chamber's entrance, her sharp gaze sweeping over the room, landing almost immediately on the pearl earrings glittering in Ella's palm.
For a heartbeat, neither speaks. Thoughts flicker behind Lily's eyes, calculating, assessing. But she doesn't react with anger. Instead, she exhales slowly, stepping forward with measured ease.
"You broke in to steal them?" The question is posed lightly, as if the answer doesn't particularly matter.
Ella keeps her posture rigid, hiding the slight tremor in her fingers as she clenches the earrings tighter. The chamber door swings shut with a whisper of magic, sealing them inside. Lily crosses the room, settling into a chair with graceful indifference. Hands folded atop her lap, she studies Ella, head tilting ever so slightly.
"Care to explain why my earrings are in your possession?" Her voice is calm, eerily so, like the wind before a storm. "You don't have much time. The guards will be here in less than a minute, and I advise you to start talking."
Ella doesn't flinch, though she knows the witch sees past her carefully constructed mask. A second of weakness betrays her, her body wavers, her breath catches, before she forces herself still.
"I have nothing to say," she bites out, forcing steel into her voice.
What could she say? That she risked everything for a friend's life? That she didn't care about the consequences, only that Mia's suffering ended? Steffen would tear into her for this if he ever found out. But it didn't matter. The sooner she completed this mission, the sooner Mia would be cured.
Lily lets out a soft chuckle. "For someone caught stealing, you have quite the nerve. Not that I'm surprised."
Ella's brow furrows. What does she mean?
Lily leans back, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. "I expected you to break into my castle far sooner than this."
Ella's pulse stutters.
"I know of your mission, Ella."
The blood drains from her face. Her grip on the earrings slackens, her body going cold as she stares at the woman before her.
How? When? Why?
Lily watches her reaction with quiet amusement before answering the unspoken questions. "And if you're wondering how… I'm a witch. Did you really think I wouldn't see through your little schemes?"
Ella's chest tightens, but she refuses to back down.
Lily sighs, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling as if recalling something long buried. "It's your fate, you know. To steal the Seven Treasures of the Seven Clans. To awaken the unavoidable." Her tone is unreadable, but there's something beneath it, a resignation, perhaps.
Ella frowns. "What are you talking about?"
Lily shakes her head, refocusing on her. "It doesn't matter. What matters is what happens next."
Ella steels herself. "And what happens next?"
A small smile tugs at Lily's lips. "You walk out of here with those earrings in your hand and finish what you started."
Ella blinks. "You're letting me go?"
Lily quirks a brow. "Do you want me to stop you?"
Ella scowls. Of course not.
Lily laughs softly, waving a hand dismissively. "I thought as much. Go. I'll handle the rest."
Ella doesn't hesitate. She tucks the earrings into her pocket and bolts toward the balcony, climbing onto the ledge just as heavy footsteps echo outside the chamber door. With one last glance at Lily, she leaps, disappearing into the night.
The moment she's gone, the door swings open.
A tall, dark-skinned woman enters, her presence commanding yet calm. She moves with a quiet grace, her gray braids cascading over her shoulders, her steel-gray eyes narrowing as they scan the empty chamber.
"Tell me you didn't just let a thief escape with the pearl earrings."
Sata's voice is low, rough, more concerned than accusatory.
Lily sighs, rubbing her temples. "What was I supposed to do?"
Sata folds her arms. "Stop her. You know what this means. The Council will never let this go. They'll hold you responsible, and.."
"That's why I have you, Sata." Lily cuts her off, her tone carrying an edge of tired amusement. "I trust you won't let that happen."
Sata exhales sharply. She's been Lily's guardian since their Coming-of-Age ceremony, two centuries past. Bound by an unbreakable oath, she has protected Lily through countless storms.
Still, she sees the flicker of something in Lily's gaze, something deeper.
"You still carry guilt," Sata murmurs. It's not a question.
Lily stiffens.
Sata watches her carefully, voice softening. "You regret that night.
Silence stretches between them. The night Lily stood frozen, watching as her half-adopted sister bled out at the hands of the Council.
The night she didn't save her.
The night the prophecy killed.
Lily turns away, expression unreadable. But Sata knows.
Some wounds never heal.
Silence stretches between them.
The night Lily stood frozen, watching as her half-adopted sister bled out at the hands of the Council.
The night she didn't save her.
The night the prophecy killed.
Lily turns away, expression unreadable. But Sata knows.
Some wounds never heal.
Back in the ballroom, the third song has passed, and Steffen seems to be losing his patience.
And just like that, Ella returns—back in her original gown. Her eyes are calm as they lock with Balu's. The silent message passes between them, and Balu smooths her lips in quiet relief.
"There she is," Balu says softly, eyes lingering on Ella.
Steffen turns, and the sight of his mate brings relief to his chest, until it's replaced by sudden, sharp pain in his right leg. With every step Ella takes, it feels like a hammer slams into his bones.
That's when he realizes…
The pain isn't his.
"You took your time. Glad you're finally here," Balu says quickly, sweeping Ella into a hug. Her lips brush Ella's ear. "You okay?"
Then, pulling back, she beams brightly.
"I apologize," Ella says aloud. But before she can add more, Steffen steps forward and takes her hand.
"Are you okay? Where've you been?" His voice is laced with concern, but his face hardens quickly, sensing something off.
Steffen's eyes narrow as he studies her.
"Washroom. I'm fine, nothing to worry about," Ella says smoothly, but her voice carries a slight tremble she can't hide fast enough.
"And your leg?" he presses, gaze flicking down briefly before locking back on hers. "It hurts, doesn't it?"
Her breath hitches, only a second, but it's enough.
Of course he feels it. The sting, the weight… their bond won't let her suffer alone.
But Ella doesn't flinch. Instead, she steps closer, slow and deliberate. The glow of the chandelier catches the gold in her eyes, turning her into something ethereal, untouchable.
"What about it?" she murmurs, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.
And before he can open his mouth to question her further, she reaches up, fingertips grazing the collar of his shirt as though grounding herself. Then, her lips brush his cheek, warm, gentle, lingering just a moment too long.
His breath stalls.
She pulls back just enough for their eyes to meet, her gaze steady, voice a soft whisper only meant for him.
"Steffen… I'm alright."
And then she kisses him.
Not quick.
Not rushed.
She leans in with the grace of someone trying to erase doubts, her lips parting against his in a kiss that's slow and deep, familiar, yet dangerously tender. Her hands slip to his chest, clutching the fabric there like a silent plea.
It's a distraction, but not a lie.
There's truth in her kiss, affection, guilt, a silent don't ask.
He melts into it, hands sliding around her waist, the tension in his frame softening just enough.
The pain in his leg is still there. The questions still churn in his mind. But right now, none of it matters.
All that exists is her, warm, alive, and in his arms.
He doesn't press further, but suspicion lingers in his eyes. Still, he takes her hand and guides her to the dance floor, twirling her gently as the music sways around them.
From the far edge of the ballroom, just beyond the draping velvet curtains, two eyes watches.
Balu titles her head, a feline smirk curving her lips as she sips from a glass of dark wine, the rim stained red like blood.
"Well, would you look at that," she purrs , eyes narrowing with gleeful malice."You hate it, don't you?"
John stands next to her, stiff as stone, his jaw clenched so tightly it could crack bone. His fists curled at his sides, knuckles white. He tells himself to look away but can't, not when she's being clutch in his chest.
On the dance floor, Ella melts into Steffen's arms.
And it burns John alive.
"Does it hurt?" Balu's voice slither through the space between them like a silk ribbon soaked in venom. "Watching her kiss a king, knowing her lips could have been yours if fate had been just a little kinder?"
He says nothing.
But the silence, oh, it says everything.
She leans closer, the scent of cinnamon and something darker wrapping around him. "You hide it well, but I see you, John. Every twitch of your mouth. Every breath you steal when she enters a room. You're starving for her."
He turns away, but her hand touch his arm, deceptively light, deceptively warm.
"They don't belong together," she continues. "They should be divided. She would fit better in your hands, wouldn't she?.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he mutters, dodging the conversation. Whatever he feels, it's not for Balu to pick apart. He's known her long enough to recognize her games, always craving chaos and control.
"Oh, please. We both know that's a lie. I see the way you look at her… how you flinch every time your king touches her. You want her."
"If you've got time to waste, Balu, go waste it elsewhere. I have things to do," John cuts her off, steel in his voice.
Even if her words are true, he would never betray Steffen. Some things are better left unspoken, even when they burn.
"Let's work together. I can help you have her."
But he's already walking away. She's insane, and he won't risk letting her madness plant seeds in his mind.
Perfect setup! That slight change adds more weight to the moment—especially with Steffen agreeing to let Ella go, trusting her again, just as things begin to spiral. Here's the modified version with your direction:
An hour passes. The ballroom pulses with celebration, music weaving between flickers of candlelight. Mistress Lily now stands poised at the center of the dance floor, elegance and command wrapped into every movement.
She begins her speech, an offering of thanks, tradition, and the ceremonial recognition of the girls coming of age. Tonight, they would receive their blessings and be welcomed by the Moon Goddess. The crowd listens in quiet reverence.
As her words come to a graceful end, Lily steps down from the stage, her eyes already sweeping the crowd. They stop on one figure.
"Ella," she calls, her voice low but certain.
Ella stiffens. Her heartbeat quickens. Her feet feel frozen.
Why me? What does she want? What does she know?
Before Ella can respond, Lily turns to Steffen, who is now at her side, a protective hand resting lightly on Ella's waist.
"I need a moment with her," Lily says, her tone neutral but not entirely cold. "It won't take long. There's something I need to discuss, something personal.
Steffen hesitates, his eyes flicking between the two women. Ella meets his gaze and offers a soft, reassuring nod.
"Alright," he says slowly. "But stay close."
"I will," Ella promises.
Lily gestures gently, and Ella follows, the two of them drifting toward the far end of the ballroom where the lights dim slightly, and the hum of voices grows fainter.
They stop near the arched window that overlooks the moonlit garden, the air cool and thick with unspoken tension.
"I wasn't sure I'd find the right moment," Lily begins, her voice lower now, almost hesitant. "But you deserve to know..
The words are cut off.
Sata bursts in, breathless, two guards trailing her, their weapons partially drawn. Her eyes meet Lily's with fire and fear tangled in them.
"The castle is under attack," she says, her voice a sharp whisper. "Rogues… and humans. Brainless ones. They've breached the outer walls."
Lily straightens instantly. "How many?"
"Too many to count. Teslime is leading them."
That name slices through the air like a blade.
"Teslime," Lily breathes, the fire in her chest reigniting.
No longer Mistress of Ceremony. Now, she's Commander again.
"Go. Tell the King," she orders Sata, already turning toward the dance floor.
But before she moves, she glances back at Ella, something urgent and unfinished flickering in her eyes. "We'll finish this. I promise."
And with that, she's gone, moving like a shadow into war.