Philip scrutinized the canvas before him, which bore a minimal palette of colors. He found himself at a standstill, visibly immersed in contemplation regarding the thematic direction of his artwork. Setting aside his brush, he crossed his arms and gazed intently at the piece. He had narrowed his focus to two potential themes, favoring one over the other, yet he was cautious not to allow bias to cloud his judgment. As he pondered, an individual clad in dark attire appeared before him, kneeling to pay their respects. Philip acknowledged the gesture with a subtle nod.
"My Lord, I bring both favorable and unfavorable news," the figure articulated in a gravelly tone. Despite their masked visage, it was evident they maintained a stoic demeanor.
Philip gestured for them to proceed, and with a slight inclination of the head, the figure conveyed, "My Lord, Lady Audrey Kinkerk has been assassinated, and the last heir of the Nevernton family is presently in the vicinity."
Philip received the information with an unchanging, composed expression. He remained seated in silence, fixing his gaze upon the cloaked figure with a raised brow.
The figure, comprehending the implication, knelt once more and affirmed, "That is all, My Lord."
Philip, inquiring further, stated, "I was under the impression you had two categories of news to report, what about the negative one ?" He reached for his brush once more.
The figure appeared momentarily perplexed, having believed they had conveyed both aspects of the report unless Prince Philip regarded them all as positive developments.
"You know what the unfortunate aspect of peace is? It renders one sightless," he mused, guiding the brush skillfully across the canvas. A chuckle escaped him as he noted the lack of response from the individual.
Periods of peace often breed complacency, resulting in individuals who cease to challenge the status quo, becoming indifferent to their surroundings and losing appreciation for the beauty of life, having never experienced loss.
With a resigned sigh, Philip finalized his theme. His hands moved with renewed purpose and precision. Before long, he set down his brush and surveyed the completed artwork with satisfaction.
"Remarkable."
The painting depicted vivid fissures on the ground, flames consuming the landscape. Thunder rumbled, and flashes of lightning illuminated a captivating yet terrifying display in the shattered sky. The anguished cries of men and children echoed amidst the chaos of death and injury.
The cloaked figure shivered at the sight, finding it disturbingly lifelike, evoking a sense of discomfort that rooted them to the spot.
"It is impeccable."
Philip beamed with pride at his creation, concluding that the theme of destruction resonated more profoundly with the current climate than that of peace.
Meanwhile, outside the palace, a cacophony of unrest rippled through the upper echelons of society, with murmurs of disquiet circulating throughout the kingdom. The death of a noble had triggered it and observant individuals could discern that concealed turmoil was brewing, a potential harbinger of catastrophe if left unchecked.
The era of sustained peace within the kingdom appeared to be drawing to a close, heralding an imminent shift. While the common populace remained largely uninformed of the unfolding events, the nobility was acutely aware of the underlying tensions.
Each noble harbored a secret, and it was widely recognized that the late Lady possessed a peculiar and lascivious taste for youth. The exact nature of her activities within her impenetrable fortress remained a mystery, yet speculation abounded regarding their perverted nature, leading to a singular individual becoming the focal point of suspicion.
The chilling proclamation reverberated in their minds: "Any noble with a deceased or missing person within their jurisdiction shall face execution." The chilling demeanor of the speaker instilled profound fear within their hearts, compelling them to eliminate any evidence of their deeds.
Amidst the panic, Pearl hurriedly traversed the Flickington mansion, her face marred by a scowl and beads of perspiration clinging to her pale skin. She disregarded the servants who bowed in greeting as she made her way to her room, locking the door behind her.
Slumping to the floor, she struggled to steady her breathing, loosening her garments in an attempt to find solace. Her eyes darted around the room as she fought to regain composure. Desperate for hydration, she approached the water jar, only to discover it was empty.
Frustrated, she yanked the bell pull, summoning a middle-aged woman who entered promptly.
"Why is there no water in the jar?! Do you wish for me to perish from thirst?! Fetch me water if you value your wretched existence, you wretched creature!"
Pearl's voice rose in fury, her face flushed with rage. As soon as the woman exited, she collapsed onto the bed.
"Curse her! Who does she think she is? That insufferable wretch!" In a fit of anger, she tore her pillow apart and hurled objects around the room.
Her gaze fell upon the mirror, where she saw a distressed woman with unkempt hair and a pallid complexion.
Taking a moment to gather herself, she brushed her hair with her fingers, recognizing that this was not the time for a temper tantrum. Action was imperative.
Having been the first to witness Lady Audrey's demise, she felt reassured that her entrance through the backdoor had gone unnoticed. However, she understood that her survival could not rely solely on chance.
Although she had not directly participated in the trafficking and murders, the gravity of her situation weighed heavily upon her.
Desperation led her to seek an escape through intoxication; she opened a vault and randomly selected a wine bottle. Pouring a glass, she drank deeply, feeling her nerves unwind as she exhaled a heavy sigh.
Approaching the window to survey the estate, her mind remained clouded as she stared blankly. The absence of her father, who had always been absent, felt particularly unnerving in this moment of crisis.
Reflecting on her childhood, she recalled being a mere pawn for her father's ambitions, receiving material possessions but lacking affection. Her eyes became misty as she curled up, succumbing to sleep after draining the entire bottle of wine.
In stark contrast, the Prince of Elyptis reveled in contentment, his schemes unfolding precisely as intended. The late Lady's seductive allure had made her a target for many, yet she remained untouchable with Pearl's protection—until now. Philip had orchestrated the entire scenario, leaving the revelations for Ely to uncover, which she did, executing it with the efficiency he had anticipated.
"Did you mention that the Nevernton heir is in town?" Philip queried, his gaze fixed ahead. He observed a bird's nest atop the tallest tree within the palace grounds.
"Indeed, my Prince," a voice responded, eliciting a sinister smile that crept across his lips.
The presence of the young heir presented a significant advantage for his agenda. Although it slightly disrupted his plans, it posed no real threat.
Ultimately, this situation was advantageous; all parties were converging upon the same individual, albeit for divergent motives. Nevertheless, he had instigated this chain of events and had no tolerance for anything less than complete commitment.