The dim candlelight flickered against the stone walls of their hidden chamber beneath Count Vallorne's estate. The air was thick with the scent of wax and parchment, the only sounds being the occasional drip of water from the damp ceiling and the low murmur of voices. Casandra sat at the head of the table, fingers laced together, her expression unreadable. Across from her, Ash leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his usual smug confidence in place. Andrea stood to the side, silent but observant, watching the interplay between the two with mild interest.
Casandra broke the silence first. "We need to talk about the pace of this rebellion."
Ash snorted. "You mean how slow it is?"
Andrea nodded. "Ashby is doing well, but at this rate, we're looking at months—maybe years—before we have a force capable of storming the capital."
Casandra didn't deny it. "That's true." She leaned forward, her sharp blue eyes gleaming in the low light. "But we're not waiting that long."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "You have something in mind?"
Casandra's smile was small and knowing. "We're going to turn the royals and the magic tower against one another."
Andrea straightened slightly, intrigued. "How?"
"We strike first."
Ash leaned forward now, his interest piqued. "Explain."
Casandra tapped her fingers against the table, choosing her words carefully. "Right now, the royal family and the Magic Tower have a fragile trust between them. The tower values its autonomy, and the crown relies on them for magical power and guidance. If something were to happen—something to shake that trust—things could get very messy."
Andrea caught on immediately. "You want to attack the royal family?"
"Not just attack," Casandra corrected. "We're going to kidnap someone. The youngest member of the royal family."
The room fell into a brief silence. Ash let out a low whistle. "That's a bold plan, I thought you'd want to aviod doing anything directly."
Andrea, on the other hand, was already considering the logistics. "Security at the palace will be tight. The royals are never alone, and investigation for the spy network says there's even a mage from the tower there…"
Casandra's expression remained calm. "Then we'll kill them."
Andrea chuckled, shaking her head. "Of course, you're giving this to me."
Casandra smirked. "Why do you assume it's your task and not Ash's?"
Andrea rolled her eyes. "Because anything requiring subtlety and tact is out of Ash's league."
Ash scoffed, offended. "Excuse me?"
"She's not wrong," Casandra said with amusement.
Ash crossed his arms. "I'm plenty subtle."
Andrea shot him a look. "You hypnotized that noble into submission in broad daylight. A few servants saw and we had to round them up and fix your mistake."
Ash shrugged at Andrea's taunt. "It worked, didn't it?"
Casandra cleared her throat, bringing them back on track. "Andrea, you'll slip into the palace, find the youngest royal, and extract them quietly. If there's a mage from the Magic Tower present, you eliminate them, and if you can hide the weapon in a member of the royal family's room."
Andrea's expression turned serious. "You want me to bring the royal back here?"
"Yes," Casandra confirmed. "This isn't just about rattling the royal family—it's about forcing them into a position where they can't fully trust the Magic Tower anymore. If their own child is taken under the tower's watch, it will plant doubt in their minds. It will force them to act, to panic. That will weaken them. Besides we need something to replace them once they're all dead."
Ash's grin was sharp. "And once they start looking inward instead of outward, Ashby will have the time she needs to build her army. Conflicts should also break out all across the land making it easy to recruit more and more fools for Ashby's army."
"Exactly." Casandra turned to Andrea. "Can you do it?"
Andrea exhaled slowly, already calculating the risks. "I'll need time to scout the palace. Slipping in and out on my own is easy, but getting out with the royal will be the tricky part."
Casandra nodded. "Take the time you need, but don't linger too long. The sooner this happens, the better."
Andrea inclined her head. "Consider it done."
A week later in the night, Andrea moved through the streets of Eoqelon, cloaked in darkness. She had changed her appearance slightly, adopting the look of a simple traveler. Her once short and neat curls now hung loose around her face, and her usual dark clothing had been swapped for something more unremarkable—nothing that would stand out.
The palace loomed ahead, its high walls and gleaming towers a testament to the royal family's power. Guards patrolled the outer gates, their torches casting long shadows against the stone. Andrea slipped into the nearby alleys, observing their movements.
She needed to get inside unnoticed.
Focusing, she let her body become intangible, slipping past the walls like a ghost. Once inside, she pressed herself against the cool stone, listening. The palace was quiet at this hour, most of its inhabitants asleep. The only sounds were the distant footsteps of patrolling guards and the faint hum of magical wards—subtle, but present.
The royal chambers would be near the center of the palace, the most heavily guarded area. Andrea moved carefully, gliding through the halls, avoiding detection.
She reached a balcony overlooking a lavish courtyard. From here, she could see the royal wing. A set of grand doors stood at the end of the hall, flanked by two armored guards. That would be where the youngest princess slept.
Andrea's eyes narrowed. This would be tricky.
She scanned the room, spotting a lone figure—a mage. He was standing near a glowing sigil carved into the wall, eyes half-lidded as though meditating. A guard and a magical ward. The royal family didn't take chances.
Andrea moved, her form slipping between the physical and the spectral. The guards didn't notice as she phased past them, positioning herself behind the mage.
She didn't hesitate.
Her blade slid into his throat before he could utter a spell. A silent kill. The mage choked, his hands clutching at his wound, but Andrea had already withdrawn, letting his body slump soundlessly against the wall.
The glow of the sigil flickered, then died.
Andrea turned her attention to the doors. The guards hadn't noticed. They would soon.
Moving swiftly, she phased through the doors, stepping into the royal chambers. The room was adorned in silk and gold, the air thick with the scent of lavender and burning incense. At the center, on a grand bed, lay the youngest princess—no older than seven.
Andrea approached quietly. She stirred slightly but didn't wake.
She picked her up with ease, careful not to startle her. The moment she stepped back toward the wall, the sound of a body hitting the floor echoed from the hall. The guards had found the mage.
Andrea moved.
She stepped through the wall, the child in her arms, just as the alarm was raised. Shouts filled the halls. Footsteps thundered against the stone. But it was too late.
By the time the guards stormed into the room, the princess was gone.