CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: SMOKE & STEEL

Helen had only just settled into the stillness of the room, the quiet night wrapping around her like a thick blanket, when the door creaked open without so much as a knock.

A tall, armored guard stepped into the room, his face blank and impassive. Helen's brow furrowed slightly, but she masked her surprise quickly. She had already grown accustomed to the unexpected—if there was one thing the Demon Realm's people were proficient at, it was making their entrances without warning.

"Lady Helen," the guard said in a firm, emotionless tone, "The King requests your presence. There is a feast in your honor tonight. He expects you to join him."

Helen sat up in the chair by the window, her fingers curling into the fabric of her gown as she processed the abruptness of the invitation. She narrowed her eyes slightly, her expression cool, though a faint flicker of irritation bubbled beneath her composed exterior.

"And you couldn't bother to knock?" she asked, her voice smooth but edged with a hint of sarcasm. "Is that how the King's guards operate in this realm?"

The guard stiffened slightly, but he remained unfazed, offering no apology. "The King requests your presence now," he repeated, seemingly unaware—or perhaps unconcerned—about the rudeness of his intrusion. "The feast is prepared."

Helen's lips pressed into a thin line, but she stood, smoothing down her dress as she made her way toward the door. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her calm, but her thoughts simmered beneath the surface. The audacity of this realm never ceased to amaze her.

As she stepped out into the hall, the guard fell into step behind her, his presence a silent reminder that she was a guest here, a guest with little power over her situation. She forced herself to keep her posture straight and dignified, but the tension in her body was evident. The King may have invited her to this feast, but she would make sure her presence was known—unlike his guards, who seemed to have no understanding of proper decorum.

The party was already underway by the time she arrived in the lavish hall. Laughter, music, and the clinking of goblets filled the air, the atmosphere thick with a kind of indulgence she had come to expect from royals of this caliber. The King, a tall and imposing figure in his dark robes, was seated at the head of a long table, flanked by various dignitaries and courtiers.

Upon her entrance, all conversation ceased for a moment, the eyes of the room shifting to her. Helen straightened her back, making her way to the King with deliberate steps.

"Ah, Helen," the King greeted, his deep voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of something unreadable. "I'm glad you could join us."

She gave a polite nod, but her tone was laced with a subtle reprimand. "Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty. It is an honor to be here. Although, I must say, I am somewhat… disappointed by the manner in which your guard came to fetch me."

The King raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "I see. I trust you understand, then, that I didn't send him to be rude—only to ensure you would arrive promptly. Time is a precious commodity, after all."

Helen's eyes narrowed, but she didn't allow her irritation to spill over. "It's not the time, Your Majesty, but the manner in which I was treated. A little courtesy goes a long way."

There was a brief, tense silence, but then the King's lips curved into something close to a smile, though it was more amused than apologetic. "Ah, I see now. I do apologize if I've given the wrong impression. My guards sometimes forget their manners. But as you can see, the feast is here for your enjoyment. Please, join us."

Helen stood still for a moment, her gaze sweeping across the guests, but then she gave a small nod and took a seat at the table, determined not to let the King's subtle mockery ruin the night. Her posture remained impeccable, her movements fluid as she accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant.

The King's smile widened, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He gestured toward a seat. "Please, sit. There's plenty to enjoy, and we're here to celebrate the arrangement we've made."

Helen settled herself into the seat opposite him, her posture impeccable, but her mind was already shifting gears. She wasn't here for this. She had already made her intentions clear, and they had been accepted. The King had agreed to Nicole's enrollment in Ashwood Haven Academy. That was why she was here—nothing more. The rest of it was just formality.

"You know," Helen said, her eyes narrowing as she placed her hands delicately on the table, "you've already given your permission for Nicole to attend my school. This is merely a formality, Your Majesty. I'm not here for your hospitality. I'm here because I have a duty to fulfill."

The King studied her for a moment, his lips curling slightly at the edges. "Of course, Helen," he said smoothly. "But you must admit, it's only fitting to welcome you properly, considering the circumstances. My daughter will be learning at your school, after all. It's a big step for her."

Helen's gaze remained unwavering as she met the King's eyes, her voice unyielding. "Yes, a big step. And one you've already approved. I'm simply here to make sure the transition is as seamless as possible for Nicole. The rest of this," she gestured to the feast, "is unnecessary."

The King raised an eyebrow, as if he were amused by her directness, but he said nothing for a moment. Instead, he gestured toward the crowd, where various nobles and courtiers continued to socialize. "It's not often we have such important guests," he said, his tone becoming more playful, though his eyes remained calculating. "I would have thought you might appreciate the finer things, even if only for a moment."

Helen allowed herself a brief sigh, unwilling to let her frustration show too much. She wasn't here to indulge in their pomp and circumstance. She was here for Nicole, and Nicole alone. The King's unnecessary showmanship didn't bother her nearly as much as it might others.

"I appreciate your generosity, but I have no interest in lingering here longer than necessary," Helen replied, her voice sharp and precise. "I've already made my arrangements with your daughter. Now, I will leave as soon as that's been properly settled."

The King's expression shifted slightly, the amusement in his eyes faltering for a fraction of a second before he masked it again. "Of course. All I ask is for you to enjoy the party but you can go back to your chamber if you wish but it's only courtesy you stay since it was thrown in your honor." he smiles

Helen considered this for a moment, not wanting to drag things out further than they had to. The King was right about one thing—she couldn't simply leave right away without giving the appearance of courtesy.

"I'm only going to stay for five minutes," Helen said, her voice softer but still firm. "I can manage five minutes. After that, I will go back to my chambers and rest."

The King nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. "Good. I appreciate your understanding."

As Helen stood to walk around the place, the King's voice called out to her once more, his tone polite but knowing. "Enjoy the feast, Helen. I'm sure it will be to your liking."

Helen didn't answer, instead turning on her heel and making her way toward the door. She didn't have time for games. This was all a formality, a way for the King to maintain control, to make sure he had a semblance of power in this arrangement.

She didn't care. She had what she needed. Nicole would be attending Ashwood Haven Academy, and that was all that mattered.

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of Nicole's chamber, casting a golden hue over the polished floors. The scent of jasmine lingered in the air, carried by the gentle breeze that rustled the heavy drapes.

Nicole stretched her arms lazily, blinking away the remnants of sleep as a familiar warmth wrapped around her—a touch so gentle, so motherly, that she immediately felt at ease.

"You're up late, young lady," a teasing voice scolded lightly.

Nicole turned to see her maid, Elise, standing by her bedside, a tray in hand. Elise had been with her since birth, her presence as constant as the stars in the sky. The older woman's eyes held both affection and mild disapproval, though the latter was softened by the small smile tugging at her lips.

Nicole let out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't sleep much. Too excited."

"Excited, huh?" Elise set the tray down, pouring a cup of tea. "I suppose this has something to do with Lady Helen?"

Nicole nodded, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "She's taking me to Ashwood Haven Academy! I can finally see the world beyond these palace walls. Doesn't that sound amazing?"

Elise sighed, sitting beside her. "It does. But that world isn't as kind as you are, my lady."

Nicole frowned, looking down at her hands. "I know that. But... isn't that why I have to go? I can't stay here forever, hidden away."

Elise's gaze softened, and she reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Nicole's ear. "You remind me so much of your mother."

Nicole's breath hitched. It wasn't often that people spoke of the late Queen. "Do I?"

Elise nodded. "She had the same heart as you. Gentle, kind, but stronger than anyone realized. She would be so proud of you."

A lump formed in Nicole's throat, but she swallowed it down, forcing a bright smile. "Then I'll make her even prouder."

Elise chuckled, cupping Nicole's cheek for a brief moment before rising. "Very well. But for now, eat your breakfast. You may be excited, but you'll need your strength for what's to come."

Nicole beamed. "Yes, ma'am!"

The transition from Nicole's warm chamber to the grand hall was stark. The throne room loomed with its high ceilings and cold marble floors, the Demon King seated at its heart like an immovable force. Helen stood before him, arms crossed, her posture unwavering despite the heavy gaze he fixed upon her.

"You slept well, I hope," the King said, his voice smooth yet edged with something unreadable.

Helen met his stare without hesitation. "I would have, had your guards been more courteous."

A chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Ah, yes. My people can be... eager."

"Eager to barge into a lady's room without permission?" Helen quirked a brow. "I wonder if that's a habit or a poor display of hospitality."

The King smirked. "You hold your ground well, Tenebri."

"You would be wise to remember that," Helen replied smoothly.

The smirk faded slightly, replaced by a calculating look. "But that is precisely my concern. You come here, requesting to take my daughter beyond these walls, to a world riddled with danger. And yet, your own realm stands defenseless."

Helen's eyes narrowed.

"You speak of protection," the King continued, his voice like a slow-rolling storm, "but tell me, Lady Helen—how will you protect my daughter when the Shadow Realm itself is without a Guardian?"

Helen stiffened. The question struck deeper than she cared to admit.

The King leaned forward. "You Tenebri pride yourselves on your strength, yet you have failed to replace the one man who held your realm together. How, then, do you intend to keep my daughter safe?"

Helen did not allow her expression to falter, though inside, a storm of thoughts brewed. How does he know about the Guardian? About Liam?

She forced a breath and smiled coldly. "Ashwood Haven Academy is not in the Shadow Realm. And as you have already granted your permission, my presence here is only for formality's sake. Or do you doubt your own decision now, Your Majesty?"

The King's expression did not change, but his eyes gleamed with something close to amusement. "You are sharp, Helen. I respect that."

A pause. Then, with a slight nod, he added, "Perhaps there is more to you than I assumed."

Helen tilted her head. "And perhaps you should stop assuming."

A moment of silence stretched between them. Then, the King let out a low chuckle. "Very well. But know this—I will be watching."

Helen gave a small smirk. "So will I."

... ✍️

The dimly lit safe house was thick with tension as Ken and Selena sat across from each other at the worn wooden table. The air was still, save for the occasional creak of the building settling, but both of them were on edge. It had been hours since Selena returned from securing the artifact, and now, they were focused—laser-focused—on their next move. Shane was the priority, and they needed to come up with a plan.

Ken leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking over the stack of old maps and notes they had gathered. He ran a hand through his dark hair and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"This isn't going to be easy," he muttered, more to himself than Selena.

Selena, who was sitting across from him, tapping a finger thoughtfully on the table, didn't look up. Her expression was unwavering, determined. She had a way of staying calm in moments like this, even when the pressure was mounting.

"I know. But we don't have a choice. We take down Shane, or the Hunter's Organization will keep running the show, and we can't let that happen."

Ken's lips twisted in a wry grin. "You've got a point. But Shane isn't like anyone we've faced before. His ability to control smoke, to use it as a weapon... it's a damn good advantage. And he's unpredictable."

Selena leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Which is exactly why we need to catch him off guard. He's too confident in his ability to manipulate the smoke, but if we can separate him from it—if we can disrupt his control—it'll give us the upper hand."

Ken nodded slowly, considering her words. "Disrupt his control. That's easier said than done. The smoke is always around him. Always."

"I know," Selena replied, her voice steady. "But the key is his connection to it. He doesn't just control smoke—he becomes it. If we can sever that bond, even for a moment, it'll throw him off balance."

"Sounds like a gamble," Ken said, raising an eyebrow. "What's the plan to make that happen?"

Selena took a deep breath, her fingers tapping the map in front of her. "We'll have to draw him out. We'll use his ego against him. He's used to being the one calling the shots, so we give him the illusion of control. Lure him into an open area where he feels comfortable, where he thinks he has the upper hand."

Ken raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And then?"

"Then," Selena's lips curled into a small, almost playful smile, "we strike. I'll be the distraction, get him to use his smoke in a way that'll give me an opening. When he's focused on me, you hit him with everything you've got. We disrupt his smoke, break his concentration. That's when we end it."

Ken chuckled, shaking his head. "You're one hell of a strategist, Selena. I'll give you that."

"I don't intend to let him get away this time," she replied, her gaze sharpening. "Shane's been playing us for too long. It's time we turned the tables."

Ken sat up, looking her dead in the eyes. "Alright, then. Let's do it."

A silence stretched between them, thick with anticipation, before Selena spoke again, her voice quieter this time.

"There's one thing we have to make sure of... We can't let him get away this time. If we fail..."

Ken's gaze hardened. "We won't fail. But if we do, we'll be ready for round two."

Selena nodded, her lips pressed into a firm line. "I won't let him win, Ken. Not again."

Just then, a sudden rush of cold air swept through the room. Ken and Selena both stiffened, their instincts kicking in.

The sound of a door creaking open echoed in the distance.

Ken's hand immediately went to his thigh, his fingers brushing the handle of his trusted golden handgun. The cold metal was reassuring, but he knew he'd need more than just a gun to deal with Shane. Selena's eyes narrowed, her body coiled like a spring, ready for action. They didn't need to say a word. They both knew what was coming.

The smoke appeared at the door.

It poured into the room in tendrils, thick and suffocating. And from within it, a figure emerged.

Shane.

Ken's jaw tightened. He should've known. This wasn't a coincidence.

Selena's eyes narrowed. She stepped back, readying herself for the fight to come.

Shane stepped into the room, his cigarette dangling lazily from his lips, the smoke swirling around him like a cloak. "Well, well, well," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "I must say, I'm impressed. You've got a nice little plan going, don't you?"

Ken's hand hovered over the handle of his gun, his fingers twitching slightly. His lips curled into a slight smirk. "What do you want, Shane?"

Shane's grin widened, his eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, I don't want anything, Ken. I'm just here to see how you two plan on handling this... little mess you've gotten yourselves into."

Ken's eyes never left him, but he was ready. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

"Oh, I think it is," Shane replied coolly. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke billowing out as he spoke. "You see, it's funny. You think you're the ones in control here. But you're not."

The smoke around him thickened, swirling, suffocating the room. Ken's breath quickened. There was no time left for strategy. It was now or never.

And then, as the smoke rose higher, Shane's voice came, cold and clear: "You're about to find out just how wrong you are."

And with that, the smoke engulfed them.

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