Traptrix

The Air Kingdom was vast, especially its Palace, which had numerous wings dedicated to specific functions—among them, a section meant solely for detaining criminals and assassins.

Deep within one of those wings lay a dungeon, cold and dimly lit. It was here that the three Traptrix girls had been imprisoned.

Vesiculo and Myrmeleo sat chained by their wrists, their expressions unreadable. Atypus, by contrast, was unshackled—a rare mercy granted by Lord Avian himself for warning the guards. But despite the small kindness, she was still considered one of the assassins… and so she remained locked away alongside her sisters.

None of the girls looked at one another. Silence thickened the air like fog. This was a rare occasion—perhaps the first in years—that a mission from the infamous Traptrix Nation had not only failed… but had been fractured from within.

One of their own had betrayed them.

The silence dragged on, broken only by the distant echoes of footsteps above. The cold stone walls of the dungeon seemed to press in tighter, thick with tension and betrayal.

Myrmeleo was the first to break the silence, her voice low and bitter.

"…You should have let us finish the job, Atypus."

Atypus didn't respond immediately. She sat near the wall, her eyes staring into the torchlight dancing on the floor. "And let a child die? A prince?" she finally said. "You think that's glory?"

Vesiculo snorted softly. "Don't act righteous now. We were raised for this. Trained since birth. You knew what we were."

"I knew," Atypus shot back, eyes narrowing. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Myrmeleo rattled her chains as she leaned forward. "Then why now? Why betray us now, after everything we've done together?"

Atypus looked away, her voice quieter. "Because… I saw them. I saw how young they were. How scared. And he…" she hesitated, "Albion didn't look like a monster. He looked like someone trying to survive."

Vesiculo laughed, a hollow sound. "You're soft. That'll get you killed. Or worse—used."

"They already spared me, didn't they?" Atypus snapped. "If we were monsters to them, we'd be dead already."

A heavy silence fell again.

Then, the iron door to the dungeon creaked open. A gust of wind blew in, along with the sound of armored boots.

Two guards stepped inside, flanking a regal woman with sharp green eyes, a crown of twisting thorns adorning her head. Her expression was unreadable as her gaze scanned the three.

Behind her was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a cloak made of pure starlight—King Albion the Second.

The Queen of the Traptrix Nation had arrived.

And judgment was coming.

The guards parted with practised precision, allowing the woman to step fully into the torchlit chamber. The very air seemed to still be in her presence.

Her gown trailed behind her like blooming venom—deep crimson petals interwoven with obsidian silk, shifting and alive with each movement, as if the fabric itself breathed with intent. Vines laced her arms like ornate gloves, glistening with dew that shimmered dangerously in the firelight. At her throat bloomed a single, enormous flower—the Rafflesia—its core pulsing faintly, as if echoing a heart that beat for the web of dominion she wove.

Eyes like polished emeralds swept the cell, cold and calculating. They held no warmth, only the judgment of a monarch who ruled not with mercy, but with method. The crown upon her brow twisted with thorned elegance, a living thing that whispered of beauty and bloodshed alike.

[Insert Image of Traptrix Refflesia]

Traptrix Rafflesia did not need to speak to command attention. Her presence alone suffocated defiance.

Vesiculo looked at her as she spoke. "Sister please, we were just following orders, your Orders".

Rafflesia just looked at them as she spoke. "What will happen to you will be decided after I meet with Albion, until then".

She didn't finish. She turned back, and then Guard and Albion the second walked out as they went to the meeting room.

The iron doors groaned closed behind them, the echo sealing the chamber in an eerie stillness once more. Vesiculo lowered her head, her expression unreadable beneath the shadow cast by flickering torchlight.

Myrmeleo let out a shaky breath. "…She didn't even look angry."

Atypus murmured, "That's worse. Much worse."

Meanwhile, in the meeting room…

The chamber was carved from stone and cloud alike—an architectural marvel of the Air Kingdom. Winds gently stirred the silken banners that hung from the high ceiling, each one emblazoned with the emblems of various allied nations. At the head of the long crystalline table sat King Albion the Second, resplendent in a robe of astral threads and light, eyes stern but not without empathy.

Across from him stood Traptrix Rafflesia, untouched by the grandeur around her. The floral venom of her presence was not dulled by diplomacy.

She spoke first.

"I offer no excuses. I gave the order, and my daughters failed."

King Albion's voice was steady. "Why risk war by targeting my son?"

Rafflesia tilted her head slightly. "Because your son is power incarnate, wrapped in a child's skin. And power draws blood—sooner or later. I merely chose sooner."

His jaw tightened, but he kept his tone calm. "So this was preemptive?"

"A warning, if you prefer softer words," she replied, her tone like a silk thread wound tight around a blade. "But I see now… he survived not by chance. That means something."

King Albion leaned forward. "It means your assassins failed. And it means this won't be buried quietly. The Wind Kingdom demands reparation."

A long silence.

Rafflesia finally nodded, the petals at her neck folding slightly inward like a blooming secret recoiling. "Then let us decide… what form that reparation takes."

King Albion looked at Rafflesia as he spoke. "So what will your kingdom do to make up for your Order?".

Lord Avian, who was next to him spoke. "Yes, what will your Nation Give to the Dragon Nation to make up".

Rafflesia looked at them, as she spoke. "I could give you Our Gems, Our Spells, some of our lands, but your Kingdom Would want Bigger Reparations for targeting the child of Prophecy".

King Albion's eyes narrowed as he spoke. "So what will you give us?".

Rafflesia looked at them as she spoke. "As you know, our nation is about Assassination; most of our Nation is fixed on the protection of our Forest, and our People. If we were ever to get war, we wouldn't be that well received".

Lord Avian then spoke. "We saw that in the War Of Crystal"

She looked at them as she spoke. "Yes, so for my first Reparations, we ally with You Kingdom, this benefits both of our Kingdoms. We will get the backing of a stronger Nation, and you will get more of a respect from us and maybe the other 5 Nation".

King Albion then spoke. "The Traptrix Nation and Dragon/Albaz Nation joined together".

"And as for my Second Reparation, your son can have us". Rafflesia spoke Looking at them, here this meeting them.

Lord Avian had an idea what she meant, but he needed to be clear. "What do you mean by that?"

Rafflesia, with a blush, spoke. "As you know the Traptrix Nation is the most female Nation, which is also reflected in the Royal family, what I am mean to say that, your son can have me, and my sister Traptrix Vesiculo, Myrmeleo, Mantis, Holeutea, Arachnocampa Etc, I am not saying all my sister name".

She then fixed her throat as she continued. "as His Mate, that is the correct term used by the dragons, correct?".

King Albion and Lord Avian both stared at her, momentarily stunned into silence.

The air itself seemed to freeze as if trying to grasp the weight of what had just been said.

Lord Avian coughed lightly, breaking the tension. "You're suggesting… all of you—royal blood of the Traptrix Nation—become the mates of the Dragon Prince?"

Rafflesia nodded slowly, her composure iron-clad despite the faint blush lingering on her cheeks. "Yes. A union through bond and blood. It would ally stronger than treaties or gold. My nation understands the consequences of our mistake… and we also see the potential in Albion."

King Albion leaned back, eyes sharp. "And do your sisters agree to this?"

Rafflesia exhaled. "They will. We are not just assassins. We are survivors. And this will ensure the survival—and elevation—of our nation."

Lord Avian looked thoughtful. "It is not unprecedented… but it is unheard of for it to be offered so directly."

Rafflesia folded her hands. "The world is changing. And if your son is truly the Child of Prophecy, it would be wise for all of us to stand on his side now—before the storm reaches its peak."

King Albion was silent for a long moment, then finally said, "This is not a decision I will make alone. Albion will need to speak with you all himself. If you truly mean what you say… then you will say it to him."

Rafflesia nodded. "Of course. We await his judgment."

Meanwhile back with the Kids.

Albion just sneezes, as everyone looks at him.

Chame looked at him as she spoke. "Young Master, are you ok?".

Albion looked at her as he spoke. "Yeah, just I feel like I just added to something I never expected to happen".

Eria looked at him as she spoke. "Whatever it is, it can't be that out of pocket".

Albion just stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before muttering under his breath, "You say that now…"

Tillroo, who had been munching on a fruit tart, tilted her head. "You sure it's not a curse sneeze? Maybe someone's talking about you."

Wynn added, "Or planning your downfall. Or wedding. Could be both. Honestly, knowing your luck…"

Chame suddenly gasped dramatically. "Wait—what if someone's trying to marry you off?!"

Everyone paused.

Albion blinked. "That's… oddly specific, Chame."

Chame crossed her arms. "Hey, I read royal court novels. These things happen. One second, you're a prince; the next—bam!—you've got seventeen wives, a secret heir, and a political marriage with a talking mermaid queen."

Albion slowly turned to Eria. "Remind me to ban Chame from the castle library."

Eria smirked. "You say that, but you're already too late."

The kids erupted in laughter, and for a moment, the room was filled with warmth—unaware of the political tidal wave heading straight for their prince.

Back in the Dungeon

"What Do you Mean by that!"

A scream came from Vesiculo as she was informed by Rafflesia, as she looked at her Sister/Queen as she was being freed from her chains.

Traptrix Vesiculo's voice echoed off the cold stone walls of the dungeon, laced with disbelief, betrayal, and something else—panic.

"What do you mean by that!" she screamed again, standing abruptly as the guards unlocked her chains. Her wrists were red from the iron's bite, but she barely noticed.

Rafflesia, poised and graceful as ever, didn't flinch. She turned her emerald eyes calmly toward her sister. "Exactly what you heard. You are now part of Prince Albion's potential court."

Myrmeleo blinked, still seated. "Wait. What? I thought we were prisoners—traitors, even!"

Atypus, who hadn't been chained to begin with, gave a helpless shrug. "Welcome to royal politics."

Vesiculo stepped forward, her voice strained. "You can't be serious, Rafflesia. You offered us to them—like bargaining chips!"

"I offered our loyalty," Rafflesia corrected. "And this is the most efficient path forward. Reparations are not just gold and land. Sometimes they are bloodlines. Symbols of unity."

"You didn't even ask us!" Vesiculo snapped.

"I didn't have to," Rafflesia said coldly. "You failed your mission, disgraced our nation, and forced my hand. Now, you can redeem yourselves."

Myrmeleo muttered under her breath, "Redeem ourselves by becoming dragon brides…"

Rafflesia gave her a side glance. "You act as if the prince is not worthy. From what I've seen… he might be the only male in all the realms worth such an offer."

Vesiculo crossed her arms, cheeks burning. "Tch. That doesn't mean I like it."

Rafflesia smirked faintly. "You will learn. Or you'll suffer worse than chains."

A heavy silence followed as the cell door creaked open.

"Come. The meeting is over. We are to be properly dressed. You will be presented to the Prince at the evening court."

Atypus then looked at her as she spoke. "Now that I think about my Queen, why did you just send the three of us? We aren't the beast, and we aren't the most skilled; if you want the Prince's death, you could have sent Mantis, Holeutea, Arachnocampa or.... You wanted us to fail".

Rafflesia paused mid-step. The subtle rustle of her gown stilled as silence took hold of the chamber once more.

She turned slowly, her gaze fixing on Atypus with a sharpness that could cut through stone. There was no fury in her eyes—only the chilling clarity of a monarch who had weighed every outcome before moving her pieces.

"You're sharper than I gave you credit for," she said, voice as smooth as silk, yet laced with iron.

Vesiculo and Myrmeleo turned to look at Atypus, shock flickering in their expressions. The realization was dawning.

Atypus swallowed but stood her ground. "You knew we'd fail. You knew we'd lose… and that I'd defect."

Rafflesia's lips curled ever so slightly. "Not defect. Awaken."

"You used us," Myrmeleo growled, fists clenched.

"I positioned you," Rafflesia corrected, stepping forward. "The court of the Traptrix is not built on sentiment, but strategy. You three were sent because failure would mean survival, not annihilation. Mantis or Holeutea would have killed the boy… but that is not what I wanted."

"Then what did you want?" Vesiculo demanded, voice trembling.

Rafflesia's expression finally softened. Not into kindness—into something heavier. Regret? No. Acceptance.

"I wanted the Dragon Nation to see our faces. I wanted them to see us—not as shadows in the trees, but as potential allies. I needed them to meet us not through blades... but through you."

She stepped closer to Atypus, raising a gloved hand to gently touch her chin.

"And you, Atypus… I knew you'd choose the light. You've always yearned for a place to belong. You just didn't know where until now."

Atypus' voice cracked. "So we were pawns."

"You were seeds," Rafflesia whispered. "And now you bloom. Whether you like what you've become… is not my concern."

She turned away once more. "Dress yourselves. The court awaits."

To be continued

Hope people like this Ch and give me power stones and enjoy