"Then there's nothing else to discuss, let's go," Kael said, his anger growing with each passing second, his voice low and menacing.
Aria intentionally ignored Kael, her eyes fixed on Liam, her voice firm and determined. "So, Liam, how do we go about defeating the Order?"
Liam's response was shocking, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. "We can't."
Kael's eyes narrowed, his face inches from Liam's. "What do you mean by we can't?" he growled, his fists clenched at his sides.
Liam stood firm, his eyes never leaving Kael's, his countenance characterized by an unwavering tranquility, his demeanor bespeaking an unshakeable calmness, his aspect exuding a serene imperturbability.
Aria's eyes widened, her mind racing with the implications. "You mean the King?"
Liam nodded, his expression unchanging, his face a mask of imperturbable serenity. "We need to inform the King about the Order's plan to seek the Celestial Scepter and use its power to conquer the entire realm."
Kael's face twisted in disbelief. "The King? How can we trust him? He's just as corrupt as the rest of them."
Liam's voice was firm. "The King may have his flaws, but he's the only one who can help us now. And we need to act fast, before the Order gets their hands on the Scepter."
Aria's eyes flashed with determination. "Then let's go to the palace and demand an audience with the King."
Kael snorted. "You think it's that simple? We're nobodies, Aria. A rebel, an assassin, and a treasure hunter who's broke as hell. The King won't even see us, let alone listen to our warnings."
Liam's smile was enigmatic. "Leave that to me. I have a way to get us into the palace."
He pulled out three invitation cards from his sachet, each rolled into a scroll and sealed with the King's crest. Aria's eyes widened as she took one, her fingers tracing the intricate design.
"A royal ball, four moons from now," she read, her voice barely above a whisper. "The King's own invitation."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "What's the catch, Liam?"
Liam's aspect remained unaltered, his calmness unwavering. "The catch is, we need to be careful. The Order will stop at nothing to get what they want, and the King's palace is full of secrets and lies. We need to be prepared for anything."
Aria's eyes met Kael's, a spark of determination igniting between them. They knew what they had to do, and they were ready to face whatever lay ahead.
"Well, four moons then," Aria said, her voice firm.
Liam nodded, his expression a paradigm of tranquility, his countenance a testament to his unshakeable calmness. "Yes, four moons. Let's get ready to dance with the King."
Time flew swiftly, and before long, the day of the royal ball arrived, a night of grandeur and majesty. The atmosphere was electric, as if the very fabric of time itself had hastened the arrival of evening, aware that this was a night to remember.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the King's Palace came alive, its halls and chambers aglow with the soft light of candelabras and the warm glow of lanterns. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the soft murmur of conversation, as guests from far and wide gathered to pay their respects to the monarch.
Among the esteemed visitors were the seven key players of the Order of the Black Oaks, each one a master of intrigue and deception. Lady Arachne, resplendent in a gown of midnight black, its silk fabric embroidered with intricate silver threads that shimmered like the moon. Her raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, and her eyes gleamed with a fierce intelligence.
Lord Cygnus, dashing in his tailored black coat with silver trim, his white shirt and black breeches a stark contrast to his piercing blue eyes. A silver brooch in the shape of a swan adorned his lapel, a symbol of his name and his grace.
Lady Valtira, a vision in red, her gown a deep crimson that seemed to burn with an inner fire. Golden thread was woven through the fabric, creating a pattern of flames that danced across her body. Her hair was a wild tangle of copper locks, and her eyes blazed with a fierce passion.
Lady Lyra, ethereal in a gown of shimmering silver, its delicate fabric draping across her body like the moon's gentle light. Her hair was a tumble of golden curls, and her eyes shone like the stars on a clear night.
Lord Kaelin, imposing in his black coat with gold trim, his white shirt and black breeches a stark contrast to his piercing green eyes. A gold brooch in the shape of a dragon adorned his lapel, a symbol of his strength and power.
Lady Niamh, mysterious in a gown of dark purple, its silk fabric embroidered with intricate gold threads that shimmered like the sun. Her hair was a wild tangle of black locks, and her eyes gleamed with a knowing intelligence.
Lord Xandros, charismatic in his black coat with silver trim, his white shirt and black breeches a stark contrast to his piercing blue eyes. A silver brooch in the shape of a snake adorned his lapel, a symbol of his cunning and stealth.
Each of the seven key players of the Order of the Black Oaks was a master of disguise and deception, their very presence a reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows of the realm. Yet, on this night, they had come to play a different game, one of politics and intrigue, where the stakes were higher than ever before.
Lord Kaelin's proud face betrayed his inner turmoil as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his eyes darting about the room like a caged animal searching for an escape. His luxurious attire, complete with gold trim and precious gems, seemed to weigh him down, a constant reminder of his noble status.
Just as his anxiety reached a boiling point, a soothing voice whispered in his ear, "Relax, Lord Kaelin." Lady Valtira's melodic tone was like a gentle breeze on a summer's day, calming the stormy waters of his mind.
Lady Valtira, a vision in red, her gown a deep crimson that seemed to burn with an inner fire, stood beside him, her eyes gleaming with a knowing intelligence. Her raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, and her full lips curled into a sly smile, as if she held secrets he couldn't begin to fathom.
"I don't need any of your troubles today, Lady Valtira," Lord Kaelin growled, his eyes still scanning the room for his son. "The ones I'm in are already enough as it is."
Lady Valtira's laughter was like a gentle mocking, her voice husky and confident. "You fool! Your son is already here. I was just trying to tell you." She grasped his chin, her fingers like a gentle vice, and turned his head towards the staircase at the 3rd floor.
Lord Kaelin's face darkened as he spotted his son flirting with two girls, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "That idiot!!" he muttered, his long strides eating up the distance as he went to confront his son.
Meanwhile, three figures entered the building, their presence like a whispered secret. The same three mysterious figures from the old ruin near the mine shaft had arrived, minus the enigmatic Weaver. Among them was Alexander Cruze, a young man with a firm jawline and piercing blue eyes, his chiseled features radiating confidence. He wore a tailored black coat with silver trim, his white shirt and black breeches a stark contrast to his sun-kissed skin.
Next was the Archon, an older man with a face lined with age and experience, his eyes still burning with strength and authority. His presence commanded respect, his black coat with gold trim a testament to his power and status.
Last was Pixie Romanoff, a woman so radiant she seemed like an angel fallen from heaven. Her hair cascaded like golden silk, her eyes shone like stars, and her lips were full and inviting, painted with a subtle smile that hinted at secrets untold. She wore a gown of shimmering silver, its delicate fabric draping across her body like the moon's gentle light.
As they entered, the room seemed to hold its breath, their presence like a whispered promise of secrets and intrigue. The air was electric with tension, the very atmosphere charged with anticipation.
All eyes were on Pixie Romanoff as she walked with the rest two, her presence commanding attention like a magnet draws metal. She was a goddess in every sense, her beauty so radiant it seemed to shine like a beacon in the night. The spotlight of attention shone brightly on her, illuminating her every move, every gesture, every flutter of her eyelashes.
Whispers began to circulate like a gentle breeze, men lost in lust over her while some women were in awe of her beauty, others jealous of the attention she received. "Have you seen her hair? It's like golden silk!" one woman whispered to another. "And her eyes, they shine like the stars on a clear night!" a man murmured to his companion. "I've never seen anyone as beautiful as her," another woman sighed, her voice laced with envy.
Pixie, Lord Archon, and Alexander Cruze took their seats at one of the tables prepared for VIPs, the cream of society vying for a glimpse of them. "He's so handsome!" a lady sitting close to their table whispered, her eyes fixed on Alexander Cruze, who felt proud as he heard their conversations. "I know, right? He looks like a Greek god!" another lady agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder who he is... I'd love to get to know him better," a third lady chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Pixie took a sip from her wine, her gaze sweeping the room as she watched men staring at her in awe, admiration, and lust. "I guess some things never change," she said, her voice husky and confident, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.
Just then, one of the lookers stood bold and walked up to their table, his eyes fixed on Pixie with admiration. He greeted the two men with a small nod before turning his face away, his attention solely on Pixie. "Excuse me, miss," he said, his voice deep and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. "I'm Ryder Blackwood, son of General Thane Blackwood from the region of Eldrador."
Ryder was dressed in a tailored black coat with silver trim, his white shirt and black breeches a stark contrast to his sun-kissed skin. A silver brooch in the shape of a dragon adorned his lapel, a symbol of his family's crest. His dark hair was styled perfectly, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with confidence as he gazed at Pixie.
The mention of Ryder Blackwood's name sent a ripple of surprise through the crowd, with onlookers exchanging whispered conversations. "The son of General Thane Blackwood? No wonder he has the boldness to walk up to her," one man said, his eyes wide with admiration.
"I heard his father is like a god in the Eldrador district," another man chimed in, his wealthy attire a stark contrast to the humble tone of his voice. "He's a legend in his own right, and his son seems to be following in his footsteps."
Ryder, however, was taken aback by Pixie's nonchalant response. "And so?" she said, her eyes darting through the crowd as she sipped her drink.
He quickly regained his composure, his charming smile returning to his face. "Well, I must say, you're a fine figure, and I would love to have a dance with you, if you don't mind?" His words were laced with a subtle charm, but his mind betrayed his true intentions. She would be a lovely feast in bed, he thought to himself.
But Pixie was not one to be swayed by his charms. "No, thank you," she said bluntly, standing up and leaving him standing alone. Lord Archon and Alexander Cruze exchanged a knowing smile, their eyes gleaming with amusement. "This always happens," they seemed to say, before returning to their usual selves.
Just then, a new set of people entered the party, and the room couldn't help but take notice. Aria, Kael, and Liam, the infamous trio, walked in with confidence and poise. Aria's raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, her emerald green gown shimmering in the light. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds, and her full lips curled into a sly smile.
Kael's chiseled features radiated a sense of power, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with intensity. His black coat with silver trim seemed to shimmer in the light, his white shirt and black breeches a stark contrast to his sun-kissed skin.
Liam's calm demeanor belied his sharp intellect, his eyes gleaming with a knowing intelligence. His dark hair was styled perfectly, his black coat with gold trim a testament to his status. The trio moved through the crowd with ease, their presence commanding attention without ever seeking it.
As they made their way through the room, the crowd parted like a sea, their eyes fixed on the trio with a mix of admiration and curiosity. The air was electric with tension, the very atmosphere charged with anticipation. This was a night that would change the course of fate, a night that would unravel the threads of destiny.