Chapter 28 – The Whispers of Madness
A few days later, within the royal quarters...
The royal quarters were steeped in silence, save for the faint crackling of the fireplace. Princess Seraphina sat at her desk, her golden quill tapping idly against parchment as she skimmed a political missive. Across from her, Prince Alistair lounged in his chair, twirling a dagger between his fingers. His usual smirk was absent.
A maid knelt before them, her hands trembling against her apron.
Alistair exhaled through his nose. "If you're going to waste our time, make it quick."
The maid swallowed hard. "It's... Lady Jessica, Your Highnesses. She had to be restrained."
Seraphina's quill stilled.
"She had a complete breakdown," the maid continued, voice tight with unease. "It took five senior healers to sedate her. Even then, she fought them the entire time."
Alistair scoffed. "Five? That's absurd."
The maid nodded quickly. "It shouldn't have been possible. Sedation magic should have worked instantly, but... she resisted. Even after the spells took effect, her body kept moving." She hesitated, voice dropping lower. "It was unnatural."
Seraphina exchanged a look with Alistair.
He leaned forward, finally interested. "And where is she now?"
"Asleep in the infirmary. The healers drained themselves to keep her under."
Seraphina tapped a single finger against the table. "And what do they say?"
The maid hesitated.
"They said..." She swallowed. "They said she shouldn't be alive."
Silence.
Seraphina set her quill down carefully. "They said that?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Alistair tilted his head, amusement creeping into his voice. "A backwater noble girl with no real presence, surviving something that should have killed six elite students, and then resisting five of our best healers?" His smirk widened. "That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"
Seraphina exhaled through her nose. "That's not what concerns me."
The maid stiffened, her fingers twisting in her apron. "There's... more, Your Highnesses."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "More?"
The maid licked her lips nervously.
"It's about Lord Lucien von Hohenfeld."
That got both twins' full attention.
Seraphina and Alistair straightened simultaneously, their gazes sharp.
"Go on," Seraphina commanded.
The maid's voice trembled. "After Lady Jessica was sedated... Lord Lucien wept over her."
Silence.
A heavy, suffocating kind.
Seraphina's fingers curled against the armrest. "He what?"
"He cried, Your Highness," the maid confirmed, clearly aware of how treasonous it would be to lie about something like this. "Over her body, in front of the healers. He was visibly distressed. I—I have never seen him like that before."
Alistair's amusement vanished entirely.
Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "How long?"
The maid hesitated. "Minutes, Your Highness."
Seraphina's grip on the table tightened ever so slightly.
Alistair scoffed, rubbing his temples. "Now that is a problem."
___
Jessica's breakdown was strange.
But Lucien's reaction was far more alarming.
Jessica was a minor noble, someone with no real political weight beyond what her brother might secure for her.
Lucien von Hohenfeld was the crown jewel of the next generation, heir to one of the most powerful noble families in the Empire.
And he had openly wept over an unconscious girl from a backwater family.
That was not normal.
Seraphina exhaled slowly, her eyes calculating.
Lucien had always been controlled, disciplined, proper.
This?
This was personal.
And it made no sense.
Alistair let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "I knew he was obsessed with her, but weeping?" He flicked his dagger into the air and caught it effortlessly. "Tell me, sister. When was the last time Lord Lucien von Hohenfeld publicly cried for anyone?"
Seraphina didn't answer.
Because the answer was never.
Lucien had never shown this kind of public vulnerability—not for family, not for comrades, not for anything.
And yet, for Jessica?
Seraphina didn't believe in coincidences.
___
Alistair leaned back, running a thumb along the edge of his dagger. "So, let's review, shall we?"
"Jessica—a noble of no real consequence—" "—somehow knew where a relic of unknown origin was hidden." "—survived a mana surge that killed six elite students." "—fought off five trained healers despite lacking any known physical combat training." "—and now Lucien von Hohenfeld, one of the highest-ranking noble heirs in the Empire, is sobbing over her?"
He let out a slow exhale. "That's a mess."
Seraphina, however, wasn't convinced this was a problem.
Lucien was throwing away his own dignity, his family prestige, for what? Jessica Moran? A girl who holds no significant title? A girl whose greatest value is that she might secure a marriage alliance someday?
The Hohenfeld family was one of the great houses, untouchable in influence.
But not if Lucien ruined himself over her.
Alistair clicked his tongue. "If he's willing to sink himself for a backwater noble, then that's not exactly our problem, is it?"
Seraphina tapped her fingers against the desk.
"Perhaps not."
The Moran family's suppression had always been intentional.
Their contributions to the Empire warranted a higher rank, but they were kept at Baron-level to prevent them from accumulating too much influence.
If Jessica suddenly became the reason Lucien fell from grace, that suppression might be lifted.
But would that be a problem?
Seraphina considered it carefully.
Tobias Moran was a potential power player, but Jessica? She was an afterthought.
If Lucien's downfall meant the Morans gained more recognition, was that really a sacrifice they weren't willing to make?
For once, Seraphina's smirk matched Alistair's.
"Perhaps," she murmured, "this is better for us after all."
Alistair chuckled. "A noble house tearing itself apart over a girl? Now that, I'd like to see."
Seraphina exhaled, returning her gaze to the letters before her.
Jessica Moran still didn't matter.
But Lucien von Hohenfeld was about to ruin himself over her.
And that, she realized, was far more useful than anything Jessica could do herself.