Aella's Doom

Chapter 11: Aella's Doom

Royal Palace... Anevra's Quarters

(Main Office, East Wing)

The air was heavy with the scent of lavender and parchment.

Golden sunlight spilled through the tall windows, pooling onto a polished floor of black marble veined with silver. At the center, behind a wide oak desk carved with the emblem of the Dragonbloods, sat Anevra... the Second Queen.

Clad in flowing robes of pristine white, her expression remained still, composed... as always.

Before her stood her daughter.

Aella DragonBlood.

The second princess.

She wore a dark gown woven from midnight silk, fitted modestly at the collar and flaring slightly at the sleeves. It shimmered faintly as she moved... a black rose against the pale stone walls.

Aella's crimson eyes, sharp and unyielding, stared straight into her mother's.

A mirror of her father's blood.

A mirror of her mother's pride.

"You are going to be married," Anevra said quietly. "To the Crown Prince of the Kaelor Kingdom."

Aella didn't blink.

"They've proposed an exchange. In return, they will provide an advanced healing solution... an alchemical medicine that may work... on your father."

She stepped forward.

"Will it even help?" Aella asked, voice quiet but firm. "Or is this another gamble in silk gloves?"

Anevra's expression shifted just slightly.

"I cannot be certain," she admitted. "But Kaelor's expertise in medicine is unmatched. They've cured rotfever. They've subdued soul-burn. If there's even a sliver of hope..."

"Then you'll take it," Aella finished for her.

Anevra nodded.

"The First Queen has already agreed."

Silence.

"Do you not wish to go?" she asked after a pause.

Aella's voice trembled only for a second.

"If it's for Father... I'll go."

But her fingers clenched at her side.

"I just... don't want to be married there."

"They've promised to deliver the first sample of the cure upon escorting you. The rest will follow once you arrive," Anevra continued. "The wedding will be delayed. You'll claim it is a formality. If the medicine fails... we will call off the union. You'll return."

"I understand."

Aella bowed her head, and for a moment, nothing else was said.

Only the quiet thrum of duty pulsing in the stillness of that room.

____________

One Month Later... Kaelor Kingdom

Private Quarters of Aella DragonBlood

"You're saying... it didn't work?!"

Her voice rang through the room like a sword striking stone.

Aella stood at the center of her chamber, fists trembling, eyes blazing.

Before her, the young maid from Ashkar lowered her head. Loyal. Honest. Scared.

"I'm sorry, my lady. The reports say... there was no improvement in the Emperor's condition."

Aella's breath caught.

"So they lied to us..."

She turned sharply.

"Then we don't need to stay here. We..."

Her body jolted.

Pain.

A twisting, violent agony in her chest.

She gasped, stumbled... then fell.

"My lady!" the maid screamed, rushing to her side.

"I... can't..." Aella clutched her chest, trying to gather mana...

But nothing came.

Instead, blood spilled from her lips.

Dark. Thick.

And then... blackness.

____________

Later. Same Room. Candlelight Flickering.

She awoke slowly, vision swimming.

Her body felt... heavy.

The maid sat beside her, hands trembling but trying to help her sit up.

"What's... going on?" Aella murmured. "Why can't I gather mana...?"

The door creaked.

Bootsteps echoed.

He entered.

The Crown Prince of Kaelor.

Brown hair. Ice-green eyes. And a twisted smirk that didn't belong to royalty.

He stopped before her bed and looked down with pure contempt.

"Well," he said, smiling. "It worked. Even on a DragonBlood."

Her heart skipped.

"What...?"

"Didn't you know?" he laughed. "We've spent years perfecting it. The poison. The right mix to cripple even half-dragon bloodlines."

"You... poisoned me?"

"Of course, you stupid bitch," he spat. "You came here thinking you were better than us. Because your kingdom has gold and dragons."

His voice was filled with venom.

"Now look at you. You can't even move."

Aella's body trembled, not from fear... but rage.

She tried again. Reached for mana...

But it was gone.

Like her strength. Like the trust she had.

"I'm going to kill you..." she whispered.

The Crown Prince only laughed louder.

"I'm looking forward to watching your pride rot," he said. "See you soon, sweetheart."

And he left.

The door slammed.

Leaving silence behind. Only silence... and a broken princess burning with fury and unable to move.

The maid leaned close.

"My lady... are you all right?"

Aella's lips barely moved.

But her eyes... her eyes were alive with flame.

"Bring me a pen. And paper."

"Yes, my lady."

She wrote quickly.

No hesitation.

When finished, she folded the letter and sealed it with trembling hands.

"Deliver it," she said. "You know who to send it to."

"I do," the maid replied. Her voice was steady now. "It will reach them."

_____________

The Next Morning

The maid burst into the room.

"My lady... news!"

"What is it?" Aella asked weakly, rising from her bed.

"The Dravion Kingdom has declared war... on Ashkar."

The words struck her like a dagger.

Aella's eyes widened.

"What?!"

She tried to move... but her legs would not obey.

The door opened once more.

The Crown Prince entered again, smiling like a vulture.

"You heard, then. Don't worry. We'll be supporting Dravion."

He laughed. Mocked.

"Let's see how long your proud little kingdom lasts now."

And with that, he left once again.

But this time... Aella said nothing.

She looked to her maid.

"Has the letter reached?"

"Yes, my lady. By now, they will have read it."

Aella leaned back, her voice a whisper wrapped in flame.

"Good."

"I'll show them," she said.

"I'll show all of them... exactly who they've dared to betray."

______________

Ashkar Kingdom

Royal Palace ... Crown Prince's Quarters

The air was unusually still.

Curtains hung undisturbed despite the open window, as if even the wind was holding its breath. Sunlight trickled through the wide panes, falling across the massive map spread over the red-golden table at the center of the chamber.

Crown Prince... Aven DragonBlood sat in his carved chair of blackstone and crimson velvet, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other tracing the borders of his kingdom with deliberate precision.

His eyes, sharp and focused, followed the parchment as though the lines drawn upon it could bleed.

The scent of old ink and polished steel lingered in the air.

A sharp knock broke the silence.

"Your Highness," came a firm voice. "Emergency dispatch from the Second Princess."

The door opened a second later without waiting for permission, and in stepped Juliet... clad in her formal silver-stitched uniform, her boots dusted with travel. Her expression was tight, her breath barely controlled.

A folded letter rested in her gloved hand.

Aven didn't lift his gaze. "Hand it over."

Juliet approached with swift steps and bowed, extending the sealed letter.

He took it, slit it open with the tip of his dagger, and unfolded the parchment.

Silence fell again.

His eyes scanned the contents quickly, but his expression remained unchanged... cold, unreadable.

Seconds passed. Then he folded the letter and set it down beside the map.

Juliet, still standing, hesitated.

"What did it say, Your Highness?" she asked carefully.

Aven leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly.

"It appears," he began, voice smooth, "the Kaelor Kingdom seeks to wash their sins by aiding us in war. A token of apology, perhaps."

Juliet frowned. "An apology?"

"They offer support against the Dravion Kingdom. A united front... unexpected, but not unwelcome." A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "The Second Princess will return once a new portion is perfected... one that might aid the Emperor's recovery."

Juliet remained still.

His eyes narrowed.

"With Kaelor's help, we may end this war before it truly begins."

But before the thought could linger, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room... unnatural, silent, and cold.

A shadow knelt behind Aven in the blink of an eye. Clad in pitch-black cloth from head to toe, the presence was faceless, voiceless... yet unmistakably one of the Shadow Guard.

"Your Highness," the figure said, head bowed low. "Urgent report."

Aven stood from his chair, his voice darkening.

"What report? Speak. Now."

The shadow's voice was low, but steady. "A high-level force has broken through the outer perimeter. They approach the capital as we speak... elite mercenaries, rogue Swordmasters, and tribes allied with the Dravion Kingdom. Our army has been split and drawn away."

Juliet's breath caught.

Aven's knuckles clenched around the edge of the table.

"How close?"

"They will reach the inner gates before afternoon, if not stopped."

A pause.

The Crown Prince's crimson eyes flickered... not with fear, but something colder. Sharper.

"So it begins," he muttered.

He turned to Juliet, his voice steel.

"Send a reply to the Second Princess. Tell her we accept Kaelor's assistance. Immediately."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And prepare the palace guard. I will lead the defense myself."

He moved away from the table, fastening his crimson cloak with a single motion. The dragon sigil of the royal family shimmered faintly on the fabric.

Aven DragonBlood was not a man who waited for war to come to him.

But what the Crown Prince did not know...

Was that the letter he held... the one written in delicate, familiar strokes...

Was not Aella DragonBlood's.

It was a carefully crafted lie.

And the trap had already been set.