Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

A gentle breeze rippled across the crystal-clear lake, casting shimmering reflections onto the wooden terrace that floated just above the water’s surface. White flowers drifted lazily atop the water, trembling slightly, as if waiting for something unseen. A subtle floral fragrance hung in the air, and the tranquil atmosphere gave the illusion of a peaceful retreat.

But it was nothing more than an illusion.

This place did not belong to ordinary reality. It was one of the hidden dimensions, severed from the mortal world, existing only for those capable of reaching it. A realm detached from time itself—where the water never grew murky, the flowers never wilted, and space seemed to exist beyond the natural flow of the world.

At the very heart of this picturesque domain, seated on an elegant cushion before a low table, was a man. His long black robes draped loosely around him, and at his waist rested a finely crafted dagger—more ceremonial than practical. Black hair cascaded over his shoulders, and a half-mask concealed the upper portion of his face, its delicate etchings barely visible except when the light struck at just the right angle.

He lifted a teacup and took a slow sip, waiting.

Before him, the air rippled. Space fractured for the briefest moment, like the surface of a lake disturbed by a stone, and from that distortion emerged Jorath. Droplets of water hovered momentarily in the air, as if time itself had hesitated before letting them fall back into the lake.

Jorath sighed, adjusting the collar of his robe.

"You always create such peaceful places, and yet…" He glanced around, taking in the scenery. "Every time I come here, I feel like I’m suffocating."

The man did not react immediately. He simply set his teacup down with deliberate slowness.

"Jorath. I was waiting."

"Of course you were." Jorath rolled his eyes and stepped closer. "How could I keep you waiting too long?"

"How did it go?" the man asked, ignoring his tone.

"Everything went according to plan." Jorath settled onto the opposite side of the table. "Aldrich accepted the tournament. Your little theatrical display worked."

The man merely nodded, betraying no emotion.

"Was it truly worth using such a valuable pill for a simple tournament among the younger generation?" Jorath arched a brow.

The man took another sip of tea before replying calmly:

"Sometimes, the greatest value does not lie in the reward itself—but in what people are willing to do to obtain it."

A brief silence followed, punctuated only by the whispering rustle of leaves swayed by the wind. Finally, Jorath broke the quiet.

"Speaking of what people are willing to do…" His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "Don’t you think we wasted a perfect opportunity?"

The man regarded him from behind the mask but said nothing, prompting Jorath to continue.

"We could have used Selene to eliminate the Princess. That would have been a catastrophe for Aldrich—his family would have been humiliated even further. His firstborn remains in a coma, and if his daughter had also perished, people would have begun to doubt his ability to protect even his own family."

The man studied him for a long moment before reaching for his teacup once more, taking a small sip.

"Yes, that does seem the most logical course," he said evenly. "But losing such a valuable spy would be regrettable."

"Spies can be replaced. The chaos her death would have caused would have been worth the loss."

"Would it?" The man slid his teacup lightly across the table’s surface. "Had we killed the princess now, the royal family would have initiated a purge. They would become more cautious, more closed off. And, more importantly… they would cut us off from information. We do not need additional barriers at this moment. It is better to remain in the shadows."

He let his words linger before continuing.

"Besides, the queen has only just given birth. She will be overly protective of the child—especially with her husband absent from the palace. She will be watching closely, and that means any move we make could draw more attention than we desire."

Jorath exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, you’re the one in charge. I’m just offering suggestions."

"I know." The man inclined his head. "And I appreciate it."

Jorath stood, stretching lazily.

"That’s all I had to say. I’ll be on my way."

The man did not stop him, nor did he add anything further. Jorath turned, took a few steps, and disappeared into another fold of reality.

On the other side of the portal, within his own domain, Jorath emerged from the shadows, stretched his arms, and took a deep breath.

Jorath let out a frustrated sigh as he emerged from the shadows of his own domain.

"Every time I talk to him, I feel unbelievably uncomfortable." He shook his head. "Maybe it's his gaze… or maybe it's the fact that I never truly know what’s going on in his mind."

Meanwhile, in the picturesque garden, the masked man remained motionless, staring at the tranquil lake’s surface.

"Selene should now have gained even greater trust from the Queen, especially since nothing happened—even though it was a perfect opportunity for an assassination." He spoke softly, almost to himself. "With the first phase of the plan complete… it’s time for me to make my move."

The water in the lake trembled suddenly, its surface darkening, as if reflecting something that should not exist.

The man’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smile. The lake’s surface brightened once more, the flowers once again drifting lazily, and the gentle breeze returned, as if nothing had happened.

The royal chambers were silent. The Queen stretched out her arms, and the maid carefully handed her the child. The Queen gazed down at her daughter with a gentle smile, cradling her softly. Her long, pale hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the warm candlelight cast soft shadows along the walls, giving the room an almost intimate atmosphere.

"That will be enough for today, Selene. You may rest." Her voice was gentle yet firm.

The maid, kneeling beside her with her head lowered, gave a slight nod.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Her tone was calm. She bowed and quietly exited the chamber, closing the doors behind her.

Sylphia felt a growing irritation. In her past life, she had been independent, and now? Now she could do nothing but listen and sleep. Her body was weak, fragile, and utterly devoid of control. Every attempt at movement amounted to nothing more than a feeble flail of her tiny arms.

It was humiliating.

But… perhaps she could turn it to her advantage.

Her mother was here, holding her, looking at her with unmistakable affection. If she wanted to increase her worth in their eyes, she needed to stand out. And what could be more extraordinary than a newborn absorbing Qi?

That should be enough to solidify her importance. Her situation might not have been ideal, but if she was to live in this world, she might as well ensure her position remained unshakable.

Sylphia focused, feeling the Qi around her. The same subtle energy she had sensed before. As she released the first faint impulse, the air in the room thickened, the warm candlelight flickering in response.

The Queen’s brow lifted slightly, her gaze sharpening as she looked down at her daughter in astonishment.

"You’re truly… able to absorb Qi?" she whispered, almost unable to believe what she was seeing.

Seeing the surprise on her mother’s face, Sylphia felt a deep satisfaction.

Hah… see? Your daughter is special. Just try to cast me aside for the sake of your precious family now.