Chapter 20: Sneaking Into His Cage
"So tell me who are you?" he whispered. "I want to know who is wearing my spy’s face?"
Esme’s blood ran cold. The warmth of the greenhouse vanished in an instant.
The original Esme hadn’t just been a terrified noblewoman forced to spy for Julian. She had been a highly skilled operative, personally trained by the crown’s spymaster. And Sylas had figured out she was an imposter.
Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. Before she could say something to deny his accusation, the silver anklet on her ankle turned freezing cold.
Esme gasped and looked down. The anklet wasn’t just a tracking device, it was a biometric alarm. The twenty-minute sleep buff was useless in front of his bloodline magic.
Every instinct told her to turn and run back to the room. But the greed of points stopped her. She took a deep breath, calming herself.
"I had a near death experience on my wedding night, Lord Sylas," she replied. "Having your throat almost crushed by the man you just married tends to change a woman’s priorities."
Sylas narrowed his eyes, assessing her.
"You weren’t there," Esme said bitterly. "Do you even know how dangerous it is to be in a room with someone like him alone? So, if you are here just for making baseless accusations, I suggest you leave before my husband wakes up and finds his bed empty."
Sylas smiled and began to circle her like a predator.
"Your micro-expressions are completely different. Your posture is dominant, defensive but ready to strike. The Esme I trained wasn’t like that," he murmured and stopped a few inches behind her.
"The Esme I trained was a skilled but submissive pawn. But you? You haven’t looked away from me once. You aren’t the pawn anymore. You are the one playing on the board yourself."
"People change to survive, My Lord," Esme replied without turning away.
"Do they?" Sylas chuckled and stood in front of her. "Crown Prince Julian still believes you are his loyal little bird, suffering in silence while playing a dangerous game for the empire. But you don’t care about the crown anymore, do you? You are loyal only to your own survival."
Esme let out a bitter laugh, startling even herself.
"And yet, here you are," she shot back. "You snuck past doubled patrols into a locked, highly warded, magical fortress at midnight just to give me a psychological evaluation?"
She took a bold step towards him, closing the distance between them. She needed to show him she wasn’t intimidated by him.
"You didn’t come here to expose me, Lord Sylas," Esme said. "You don’t care who I am, as long as I am useful to your network. And you came here just to check that."
Sylas didn’t say anything, letting her continue.
"The crown knows Eveyr is on the verge of treason," Esme continued. "He has the military, power, and he is dangerously unstable. The Emperor is losing sleep. Julian is panicking. And you? You want to know if I am controlling the monster or if the monster is controlling me."
Finally, a genuine smile appeared on his lips.
"Brilliant," he said with amusement. "Absolutely brilliant. You see the board perfectly."
He took a small step towards her.
"If you are controlling him, my little spy, then you are a major threat to the empire. You are a wild card that we cannot afford to leave in play. But... if he is controlling you...then you are a very valuable hostage I can use to keep him on a leash."
"I am nobody’s hostage," Esme retorted, stepping back immediately.
But as she moved, the silver anklet beneath her gown began to hum loudly. Sylas’s eyes instantly dropped to her ankle.
"That magic is parasitic, Duchess," he said in a pitiful tone. "It feeds on his paranoia and ties you to him completely. But I can help you."
Sylas moved his hand towards her leg.
"I am the crown’s spymaster. There is no magic I cannot break. I brought a specialized runic breaker. If you cooperate with me again, I can remove it."
He can free me?? Really? But what if it could be another trap? But there’s no harm in trying, right?
Before she could say yes or before Sylas’s fingers could touch her leg, the temperature in the greenhouse dropped. The humid air turned into white vapours. Esme gasped, her breath appearing as a cloud of frost. Around them, the orchids froze and shattered, falling like shards of porcelain. The water in the fountains turned into ice and the iron bench on which Sylas sat earlier groaned.
Sylas turned around, drawing daggers from his sleeves. Then a deafening boom shook the night.The glass wall at the southern end of the greenhouse exploded inward. Glass shards rained down around them like confetti.
Esme threw her arms over her head and screamed as the shockwave knocked her backward into the frozen dirt.
Eveyr stepped over the rubble calmly. He was bare-chested, wearing only trousers. His muscles were tense, radiating a terrifying aura of dark magic. His hair was messy and his eyes were completely black, swirling with magic.
As his bare feet touched the greenhouse floor, the air pressure increased. Esme collapsed onto her stomach, gasping for air. Beside her, Sylas choked and slammed down onto his hands and knees, trembling as he tried to push against the invisible weight.
[SYSTEM ALERT: CATASTROPHIC JEALOUSY TRIGGERED. +5000 POINTS.]
[WARNING: HOST SURVIVAL RATE DROPPING.]
The red system interface flashed in Esme’s vision, but it was the least of her worries. Her eyes were fixed on her husband.
Eveyr didn’t even glance at her. He walked straight towards the kneeling Sylas with the shadows rushing towards his right hand, forming a blade of pure darkness.
"You snuck into my cage," Eveyr whispered, his voice deadly. "And then dared to touch my wife!"
The blade of darkness grew on his hand.
"Belongs ...to you?" Sylas stammered, his tone mocking. "Interesting choice of words for a husband."
The shadows around Eveyr exploded violently.
"Careful," Sylas said. "If you kill me here, you’ll start a war with the crown."
Eveyr laughed.
"Perfect," he replied. "I was already considering it."
