Three hours ago.
Lilian’s boots clicked against the black stone floor of the corridor, the echoes ringing sharply through the deep, hollow palace.
She was now the Queen of Moon Phase City, a Daywalker standing in the spotlight of everyone’s attention.
Yet, the hint of suspicion that flickered in the guards' eyes whenever they bowed was like a flurry of tiny steel needles, making her feel restless and uneasy.
Without the Blood Dance Tattoo, she would always feel like an illegitimate usurper within the walls of this Night Rose Palace.
And the only man who could help her stabilize her throne was currently secluded with that thousands-of-years-old monster.
For three whole days.
The doors to the side palace remained tightly shut.
Lilian could sense a secret, violent surge of energy constantly leaking through the cracks of the door.
It was the aura belonging to the First Ancestor, Leila Vantrue.
She felt as if a wad of cotton soaked in acid had been stuffed into her chest, the burning sensation tightening her throat.
Why?
Back in that dark basement, it was she who had knelt at Bell’s feet, trading her dignity for a chance to survive.
Now that she had become the Queen, Bell had turned around and entered another woman’s room.
“Get out of my way.”
Lilian shoved aside a member of the Royal Guard who had stepped forward to salute her.
In the palm of her hand, a blood-red whip was slowly condensing—the power of her awakened bloodline.
She stood before the heavy wooden doors, which were covered in carved soundproofing arrays.
The patterns of the arrays pulsed faintly in the darkness, as if mocking her helplessness.
Lilian’s gaze turned completely cold.
She suddenly lashed out with her leg, the tip of her slender boot carrying a gale that tore through the air as it slammed into the center of the door.
Boom.
Reinforced with multiple defensive spells, the wooden door let out a groan of agony under the Queen’s fury.
The hinges snapped, and wood splinters flew everywhere.
Gripping her blood whip, Lilian strode into the room.
A wave of hot, humid air, carrying a mysterious sweet scent, instantly enveloped her.
The sight upon the velvet bed in the center of the room—large enough to hold several people—caused Lilian’s sanity to collapse instantly.
The curtains were drawn tight.
The dim candlelight flickered.
Bell lay in the center of the bed, his upper body completely bare.
Leila’s magnificent black dress had been tossed carelessly onto the floor.
Her long silver hair was drenched, strands of it clinging to Bell’s shoulders and collarbone.
Leila’s hands were pressed firmly against Bell’s shoulders.
Large beads of sweat rolled down her spine.
On that cold, beautiful face, there was now a look of feverish intensity Lilian had never seen before—a state of immersion that bordered on madness.
“What... what are you two doing?!”
Lilian’s voice turned shrill from extreme rage.
She felt all the blood in her body rushing to her head; the sense of shameful betrayal made her nearly unable to stand.
This was her palace.
She was the Queen here.
And right under her nose, these two were actually engaged in such primitive and shameless behavior.
“This is the palace! I am the Queen!”
Lilian roared hysterically.
The blood whip in her hand lashed out, creating a piercing crack as it struck the bedpost beside them.
A deep gouge was torn into the hard black obsidian post.
“Bell Lucas! Is this the ‘help’ you promised me?”
“You talk about making me stronger, while you’re in here fooling around with this old woman?!”
Lilian rushed to the bedside, the tip of her whip pointing at the back of Leila’s head.
She wanted to strike.
But Leila didn’t even turn around.
The First Ancestor’s body was trembling slightly.
Bell opened his eyes.
His gaze was exceptionally cold, possessing a level of rationality that was almost frightening.
In those deep eyes, Lilian couldn’t see a single trace of panic or guilt.
He looked as if he were performing a precise dissection or observing the execution of complex code.
“Lilian.”
Bell’s voice was somewhat raspy, but his tone was as steady as a pool of stagnant water.
“Get out.”
“You’re telling me to get out?”
Lilian laughed in pure rage.
She raised her blood whip again, frantically lashing at the bedding on the mattress.
“You eat my food and live in my home, and now you tell me to get out?”
“You shameless bastards!”
Lilian spat out every venomous word she could think of.
She felt like a joke.
A Queen who tried so hard to maintain her dignity outside, only to be publicly humiliated by her own ‘creator.’
Leila finally moved.
She slowly turned her head. The original cold arrogance in her crimson eyes had been replaced by an extreme, almost holy fanaticism.
Her pupils even reflected the strange symbols Bell had just written on a piece of parchment.
“Shut up.”
Leila’s voice was soft, yet it carried the absolute suppression of an Ancestor.
She looked at Lilian with a gaze reserved for a fly that had interrupted a dragon’s meal.
“He is showing me... the truth of the world.”
Having said that, Leila lowered her head again, pressing her forehead against Bell’s chest.
Sweat dripped from her cheeks onto Bell’s skin.
Lilian froze.
She looked at these two people facing each other half-naked.
She saw an atmosphere that transcended physical desire, yet was stickier and more impossible to intrude upon than any carnal lust.
The blood whip in her hand trembled.
Bell closed his eyes once more.
His fingers lightly traced the back of Leila’s hand, as if guiding an invisible flow of energy.
“Don’t stop.”
Leila’s voice carried a hint of a trembling plea.
“Teacher... continue.”
Lilian stood by the bed.
She stared at the hand resting on the back of Leila’s—the same hand that had once led her out of the darkness.
Now, that hand was opening the door to a new world for another woman.
She spun around abruptly, the blood whip shattering into a cloud of scattered mana.
She burst out of the room, knocking over a maid carrying a fruit platter in the hallway.
And behind her.
From within the shattered wooden doors, that low, heavy pressure—like the resonance of a soul—emerged once more.
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