The crowd bowed deeply, but eyes flicked to her cold face. Her lips were poised in a smile, but it was the kind that never reached her eyes. She regarded the child with the barest flicker of her gaze—something unreadable crossing her face for a heartbeat.
Disgust. It danced behind her pupils like a phantom. A tightening of her jaw. The slight twitch at the corner of her left eye. She lowered her head but not out of respect—more to hide the fire kindling there.
“Such an honor, Your Majesties,” Lady Antheros said warmly, tilting her head in greeting. Valerian nodded, his arm gently brushing his wife’s.
The Emperor offered a gracious nod. “A blessed day. The Empire rejoices with you.”
Armada’s voice was like honey over frost. “Indeed. A celebration worthy of the heavens.”
The crowd resumed its joy, though quieter now. The Empress’s presence lingered like cold ash.
When Antheros handed over the child, Empress Armada accepted the infant with a fake smile that challenges even the veteran actors. Her lips curled upward just enough to be courteous, but her brows twitched ever so slightly—as if suppressing a grimace. Her gaze briefly scanned the child, then flicked toward the adoring nobles watching, and only then did she offer a gentle coo.
“Such a… radiant boy,” she had said, almost too carefully. “The empire is fortunate.”
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Her fingers were gentle, but the way she held the child was too exact—measured rather than maternal. Antheros noticed the stiffness, the momentary flicker of something unreadable in Armada’s gaze. But with guests arriving and obligations looming, she turned back to her duties, though her smile dimmed just slightly.
Though Antheros smiled and laughed with her guests, her gaze often drifted toward the crystal-panelled viewing chamber behind the throne dais. She checked on the nursery again—and paused.
Something was wrong.
The room, once bathed in soft, golden light, was dimmer now. The cradle sat still. Too still. The caretaker—gone. The door stood ajar.
And her son… wasn’t moving.
A chill shot through her, freezing the breath in her lungs. Her heart stuttered, and then thundered back to life with raw instinct.
She didn’t speak. She ran.
Through nobles and guards, past gasps and protests, her silken gown tearing as mana flared violently around her. The air crackled with her panic.
Valerian turned, mid-toast, just as his wife’s scream shattered the room like glass.
He dropped his goblet and ran to her side.
They reached the nursery together.
The scene stopped time.
The caretaker—a trusted friend for years—lay collapsed on the floor, lips tinged blue, eyes wide in glassy stillness. A vial of broken glass glinted beneath her hand.
And in the crib, their son lay wrapped in his star-stitched quilt, peaceful… too peaceful. No rise of breath. No warmth.
No life.
A faint smear of black marked the corner of his lips.
Antheros collapsed to her knees. Her mana flared uncontrollably, sparking across the floor like wild fireflies. She lifted the child, pressed him to her chest, rocking him as she wept, her sobs raw and primal.
Valerian fell beside her, his face hollow with disbelief. He touched the child’s cheek—still warm—but the light was gone.
Only silence remained.
Outside, the promised star—destined to mark the boy’s legacy—shuddered in the sky.
Then, as if mourning, it fell in a single burning streak across the heavens.
No sound.
Just light, and then darkness.
A sign.
The gods had taken back their gift.
And within Dreamland, where joy had filled every hall just hours before, only grief remained
Welcome to the journey!
The Schedule:
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Today: 3 Chapters
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The Rest of the Prologue: 2 Chapters on Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
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Main Story: Once the prologue concludes, we will move to a steady pace of 1 Chapter every Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.