The king stood, his eyes fixed on the body of the woman lying before him. The imposter—an unfamiliar soul in his late wife's form—lay motionless. He had hoped and prayed that this would work, but deep down, he knew something was wrong. The sword had responded to her, but she hadn't been able to unsheathe it. This meant that while the body was correct, the soul was not. The sword had only reacted to the goddess's body, not to the soul inside it.
"Kael," the king said, his voice cold as steel. "Go to Prophetess Kim's place. Tell her the spell got the wrong soul."
Kael, the scarred general, nodded and began to speak but hesitated. "Her body is still weak from the ritual yesterday. I doubt she will be able to talk," he added, caution evident in his voice.
The king's gaze turned sharply to Kael, his patience evaporating. "Do you want to join her?" His tone was like a blade, and Kael immediately stiffened, bowing and retreating without another word.
Turning to the maidservant, the king's tone softened but remained firm. "Make sure no one knows about this. As far as everyone is concerned, she is still in a trance."
The maidservant bowed, her expression serious. "Understood, Your Royal Highness," she replied before turning to leave. But the king stopped her.
"You know what? Go to the room where my wife's body is kept," he said, gesturing toward it. "Stay there and wait. If she wakes up, call for me immediately. Only notify Kael, too."
The maidservant nodded, "Okay, Your Royal Highness," and quickly moved toward the room.
Just as she left, there was a commotion. The king turned to see his daughter, Princess Ariel, running down the hall. The guards, breathless from trying to catch up with her, struggled to keep pace.
"Father! Father!" Ariel called, grabbing onto his clothing as she caught up to him.
"I heard Maidservant Tae's voice on the third floor!" she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "She said Mum is awake!" She pointed toward the room where her mother's body lay, her voice filled with hope.
The king's heart clenched, but he quickly masked his feelings. He scooped Ariel into his arms, forcing a smile onto his face. "You probably heard wrong, dear," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Your mum is still sick."
Guilt flashed across his face, but he quickly pushed it away. Ariel couldn't know the truth. His wife had died the day she gave birth, but that secret had to remain hidden until they could bring her back from the future.
"When will she be fine, Father?" Ariel asked, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Soon, dear, soon," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Gently, he set her down on the floor and sighed, his expression hardening. "Now go back to your etiquette class. I'm wondering why you're not there yet."
Ariel, still wiping away her tears, nodded and turned to leave. But the king's gaze turned sharp, and he looked over at the guards who had been pursuing the princess.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," one of the guards said, catching his breath. "Her Majesty ran away from class suddenly, too fast."
The king raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed. "So you can't catch a ten-year-old running?" he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.
The guards quickly bowed their heads, apologizing. "We're sorry, Your Highness. It won't happen again."
The king narrowed his eyes for a moment before his expression softened. "Better, Have General Asher, Rider, and Gideon meet me in my study." he mutterd while turning to leave.
...
Lucius sat in his study, the dim glow of the lantern casting long shadows across the room. His fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the desk, his eyes staring past the walls as his mind churned. The kingdom's fragile survival weighed heavily on his shoulders, each passing second a reminder of the peril they faced.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Enter," he commanded, his voice carrying an edge of authority.
The door creaked open, and three figures stepped in—Asher, Rider, and Gideon. They bowed low before him, their movements precise and respectful.
"Your Highness," Asher began, his voice calm but formal. "You summoned us?"
Lucius gestured toward the chairs before him, his eyes narrowing as they took their seats. "Where is Michael?" he asked, his tone clipped.
"Still on patrol, Your Highness," Asher replied after a brief glance at Rider.
"And Kael?"
"He's meeting with Prophetess Kim as instructed," Gideon added swiftly.
Lucius nodded, though his expression tightened. The silence stretched, heavy and expectant, before he finally leaned forward. "What is the report?"
The men hesitated, their unease palpable. Finally, Rider spoke. "We found nothing, Your Highness. The spirits... they've vanished."
Lucius's gaze turned piercing. "Vanished?" His voice was low, but the sharpness cut through the room.
Rider nodded reluctantly. "They've gone into hiding. Not a single one has surfaced."
The king's jaw clenched, and his fist came down on the desk with a controlled but audible thud. "Hiding," he murmured, bitterness threading through his words. "Of course, they would."
His eyes burned with a mix of anger and grief as he rose abruptly, pacing the room with the energy of a caged animal. "Athena dedicated her life to trapping those spirits, sealing them into relics, one by one. Ten years of relentless pursuit. And now, they scatter like rats the moment her light is gone."
The men watched in silence, their faces grim.
"Athena paid the ultimate price," Lucius continued, his voice tightening. "On the day our daughter was born, she died... and the spirits she contained were unleashed. They are dangerous, deadly, and they remember us. They will come for this kingdom again."
He stopped pacing, his intense gaze sweeping over the men. "This is why I need her back. Not just because she was my wife or because I..." His voice faltered briefly before he pressed on. "Not just because I need her, but because the kingdom won't survive without her strength."
The air grew thick with unspoken understanding. The generals knew the truth of his words, even as they struggled to meet his eyes.
Gideon shifted in his chair, his voice tentative. "Do you believe the ritual will succeed, Your Highness? Can she return?"
Lucius's expression hardened, a flicker of vulnerability flashing across his face before resolve replaced it. "It has to," he said firmly. "There is no other choice."
He returned to the desk, his hand brushing over a small, ornate box. Opening it, he revealed a faintly glowing crystal, its light weak but steady. It was one of Athena's relics, the last tangible piece of her power. His fingers hovered over it as if drawing strength from its faint glow.
"Continue the search," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Flush the spirits out of hiding, wherever they've gone. Do not return to me without results."
The men rose, bowing deeply before leaving the study in solemn silence. The door shut with a heavy thud, sealing Lucius in solitude once more.
He stared at the crystal, its glow reflected in his eyes. Ten years without Athena had left an unfillable void in his life. Her laughter, her wisdom, her presence—all were ghosts that haunted his every moment. And yet, he had no time to mourn. The kingdom needed her, and so did he.