Chapter 91 Mira flees
“Remember, Ms Thorne, the passage.” Her voice whispered into the air for the last time as she disappeared, dissolving into a Mist.
Isabella was shaken. If she hadn't believed a word of Mira's confession, then she absolutely had now.
The most dissolving nature was a skill that belonged to the ancient faction, the Guatemalas.
Her knees weakened as she staggered to the closest place she could sit—her bed.
Outside the East Wing, as the mist glided out, it came face to face with Lucien who had just arrived.
Alarmed, Lucien struck a palm in the air, sending the mist running. It weakened, his colour almost disappearing.
With a gust of air and power, he drew the mist back to himself. A strike punch in the air, made the most dissolve further.
She shrieked as she made to escape whatever was left of her. Her body glided to the window, wanting to make her last escape.
She waited for Lucien to strike one more time before making a run for the window, but she was too late.
The air sucked her back into the hallway, the final strike dissolving what was left of her into nothingness.
Lucien sighed in relief as he dusted his hands. That was good, felt good too. At least, if he had not done something today, he knew he had ended a member of the ancient faction.
His eyes narrowed as something dawned on him. Most seemed to have come out of Isabella's room.
Lucien's frustration could be felt. The Eastern passage had no guards stationed in the hallways, only outside the frontier, giving the place a false sense of security.
Lucien literally ran his way through Isabella's quarters, pushing the door open as he stood, ready to attack.
The sight before him was a contrast to the chaos that he thought would be going on in the room.
The room was a bit dark, save for a small light bulb. Isabella sat on the bed, sniffing as she wiped the tears falling, away.
She turned in surprise, wanting to holler before realising that it was Lucien.
“Lucien?” She stood up, unsure of the tricks her eyes were playing on her. “What are you doing here?”
Lucien ignored her question as he breathed his relief, the fear showing on his face for the first time. “Thank God you're safe.”
He murmured and without warning, grabbed her as he enveloped her in a hug, his hands stroking her hair.
Isabella let herself be hugged by him, his hands wrapped around his waist. “What are you doing here?” She muttered, her voice steady.
“Figured out some dangerous things and had to rush in to make sure you were safe.
Isabella's heart warmed as she blushed.
“And I'm glad I did.” Lucien continued. “Saw a part of them just as I stepped into the walls.”
Isabella released herself from his grip as she faced him, studying his features. “The Mist?”
Lucien nodded, surprised that she'd figured it out. “There are a lot of things I have to tell you.”
Isabella nodded, her hands on his chin, stroking his beard. “That makes two of us.”
Lucien led her to the bed, holding her possessively as if he was afraid that letting go would make her disappear from him.
“I can't believe I have you here with me.” Isabella squeezed his palm, reassuring herself more that he was real, than her.
She plopped on the bed, with Lucien standing opposite her. She studied his features, her eyes noting the bent knees, the stitch in his fingers.
“How have you been?” She asked quietly, running her eyes all over his body.
Lucien nodded, swallowing, his Adam's apple bulging. “Been good.” He looked like he was about to say more. “Let's talk about the Mist. You seem to have recognised it.”
“Oh that,” Isabella looked away.
Lucien narrowed his eyes auspiciously. “You know something, don't you?”
Isabella nodded nervously. “I do, and it has been taken care of.”
“Yes, it has.” He grunted. “Made sure to take care of it.”
Isabella didn't know how to react. Listening to Lucien speak, she was supposed to be happy, at least Mira had gotten the punishment she deserved but a part of her also felt bad. It was a case of uncontrolled circumstances.
Lucien's gaze on her was steady, like he knew the thoughts running in her head.
“Tell me all you know.”
Isabella gulped, pressing her palms together, willing herself to step out of the state of sorrow and act as she would.
She cleared her throat. “I've learnt quite a number of things.” She began, encouraged by Lucien's subtle nod.
“The Mist whom you saw outside was Mira.”
Lucien tried to kill his surprise but failed woefully at it, making Isabella chuckle despite herself.
“Damien is merely a tool.” She continued, holding his gaze. “The Moonlit blood which I carry is not cursed. It was merely a facade created for me to doubt myself.”
Lucien nodded. “Is that all?”
“The Guatemalas. The ancient faction…” she glanced at him, but his eyes registered no surprise.
“Wait…”. Isabella trailed. “You knew about them?”
Lucien grunted, urging her to continue.
“They have a plan. One that will help them take the throne in the coming days.” She swallowed, listing them as though she had memorized them and would forget them anytime soon.
“That's all?” Lucien wanted to confirm.
“Yup,” she said simply, suddenly finding a genuine interest in her nails.
“My turn,” he turned himself, positioning himself to sit upright.
“Spent time rushing here cause you are out of time. You and our son…”
Isabella clocked out with Lucien's words warming her ears.
“You're in danger, Izzy. And I'm not talking about the usual danger from Damien and the guards.”
She sat up, her expression mirroring Lucien's. “What do you know?”
Lucien shut his eyes. He was in an internal debate with himself, looking for the best possible words to use.
“I'm saying…” He began, picking his words carefully. “This ancient faction, Izzy, the Guatemalas are after you.”
Isabella stared at Lucien as he had just said the most stupid thing. “And I'm supposed to believe this because?”
Lucien shook his head. “I don't think anybody's asking for belief. The evidence points to all of them.”
“Enlighten me, please.” She said, folding her arms, looking at Lucien with rapt attention.
Lucien curled his lips. “Had spies here in the palace for some time.”
Isabella nodded, urging him.
“And they found some things. Some irregularities.” He corrected almost immediately.
“As you said, Damien is merely a tool. One that would be discarded as soon as they are done with him.”
Isabella nodded in agreement. At least they were going to agree on this one thing.
“And?” Her patience was growing thin.
“Second,” Lucien gulped. “There seems to be a strange doctor here, summoned by Damien. Something about a ritual.”
Isabella shook her head, clearly confused. “I haven't heard of such.”
Lucien nodded. “I wouldn't expect that you should have.”
“And might I guess, this ritual sort of concerns me.” She said with a bitter smile like one who had accepted her fate.
Lucien gave a nod that told her there was more to come. “It's a sort of ritual to make you the puppet queen.” He continued.
Isabella narrowed her eyes, assimilating the conversation. “Excuse you?” She muttered.
“The ancient Faction, the Guatemalas, want to make you a part of them. Carrying out that ritual not only makes you a puppet queen for them, but also gives them easy access to the throne.
Isabella could sense that there was more to come. “And let me guess, there is something you think can be done.”
Lucien sighed. “I'm not the enemy here, Izzy.” He said as he stepped forward, taking her hands.
“No, you're not.” She nodded.
“All I'm saying is, we may have prepared a counterattack on your behalf. Just the same ritual, different results.”
Isabella guffawed till tears filled her eyes. “And that is supposed to make me happy I guess?”
Lucien rolled his eyes. “What plans do you think they have that'll help them take the throne in a couple of days?” He asked against his better judgment. “You think it involves something good?”
Isabella recoiled, suddenly stung by the truth. “You do not know that.”
“Oh, I do. I know that. I know more than your friend was willing to reveal.”
He sighed, realising that they would go nowhere with a fight. “We're a team, Izzy. Trust me when I say I'm not working against you.”
“This ritual,” Isabella hesitated, wringing her fingers. “It's gonna be carried out by whom?”
She added almost immediately. “I'm not agreeing yet. I just wanna see my chances.”
Lucien grimaced. “It's gonna be carried out by me.”
Isabella narrowed her eyes. “And the success rate?”
“That…” It was Lucien's turn to hesitate. “It actually hasn't been carried out by anyone.”
“Hell no,” Isabella screamed.