Southern Sea Sun Palace V

"Hello," Alyssara greeted, her voice like silk threaded with honey. Her smile was warm, inviting—utterly disarming. "May I have the honour of knowing the names of you ladies?"

The three girls blinked, momentarily thrown off by the calmness of her words. They exchanged brief glances before responding.

"I am Rachel Creighton, princess of the North and daughter of the Creighton family," Rachel introduced herself, her voice steady and composed, as though etched in ice.

"I am Cecilia Slatemark, princess of the Slatemark Empire," Cecilia said sharply, her crimson eyes shimmering with barely contained fire.

"I am Seraphina, princess of the Mount Hua sect," Seraphina added, her tone cool but laden with frosty anger, a rare crack in her usual stoic demeanor.

"It is an honour to meet such esteemed ladies," Alyssara replied with a serene smile, bowing her head just slightly. "I am Alyssara Velcroix, Chief Advisor to the Lord of the Palace, despite my humble age."

She delivered the line flawlessly, radiating the kind of elegance that could put nobles to shame. Her demeanor was impeccable—graceful, poised, and effortlessly convincing. 

'She's really nailing the whole 'elegant diplomat' act,' I thought, begrudgingly impressed. 

The Slatemark Empire and the Creighton family were legendary even two centuries ago, their reputations carved deep into the annals of history. Of course, the Southern Sea Sun Palace would recognize their significance. Alyssara, forced to pretend she was solely a product of the Palace's isolation, had to be careful not to slip up and reveal more recent knowledge. 

But sociopaths, as they say, make excellent actors. And Alyssara Velcroix? She wouldn't miss a beat.

The rest of Class A followed suit, introducing themselves one by one. Alyssara listened with intrigue, her cyan-green eyes gleaming faintly as she regarded us. Seven princes and princesses from across the globe—an unprecedented concentration of political power gathered in one train car. The significance wasn't lost on anyone, least of all Alyssara.

The students from Starcrest Academy joined the introductions next. Among them, Aria Gu stepped forward, her name sharp and unmistakable.

For the first time, Alyssara's perfect façade faltered—just slightly. A flicker of annoyance passed over her face, subtle but deliberate, before she smoothed it away with a hint of polite disdain. 

The effect was immediate. Everyone in the room noticed the reaction, and it only reinforced what we all knew from our history lessons: the Southern Sea Sun Palace despised the Gu family, even more than the Viserions, whose memory had faded over time. 

It was a masterstroke on Alyssara's part. By playing her role so convincingly, she deepened the illusion of loyalty to the Palace. If anyone had lingering doubts about her origins, they would evaporate like morning mist. 

And I couldn't help but feel a chill run down my spine.

Seeing Alyssara's actions unfold in front of me, rather than reading about them in the relative safety of the novel's pages, was something else entirely. It wasn't just unsettling—it was downright terrifying.

'Can you not sense her at all?' I asked Luna, my thoughts sharp with unease.

'No, Arthur,' Luna replied, her tone tinged with frustration. 'She's impossible to pin down.'

Alyssara wasn't truly invisible, of course. Her presence was there, but it was subdued—muted. It felt like the quiet hum of a Silver-ranker, utterly unremarkable. And therein lay the horror. A being of her caliber, a Radiant-ranker with the power to rival nations, was cloaking herself so perfectly that she felt no different from an ordinary woman. It was a level of deception that set my nerves on edge.

"Then why are you here?" Cecilia asked, her voice steady but edged with faint venom that she didn't bother to hide entirely.

Alyssara's serene smile didn't waver. "Because this is the first time the Southern Sea Sun Palace has opened its doors to the world in centuries," she replied smoothly. "Even under such unfortunate circumstances, I thought it fitting to personally greet our young investigators."

"There's nothing for you to worry about," Ava chimed in, her tone sharp and challenging, "if you truly are innocent."

Alyssara turned toward her, her cyan-green eyes sparkling with a glimmer of amusement. Her perfect smile stayed in place, unshaken by Ava's words. "That's wonderful to hear," she said, her voice as light and pleasant as a summer breeze. "I hope you all enjoy your stay here."

The train began to slow as we approached our destination. Without another word, Alyssara turned, her pink hair swaying with the movement. The soft gleam of light against her silk robes made her look every bit the dignified noblewoman she pretended to be. She cast a graceful wave of farewell over her shoulder as she departed, her every step measured and deliberate.

As we stepped off the train, the Red Sun artifact loomed closer, its presence dominating the sky like a silent sentinel. Its sheer scale was staggering, and now, so near, its intricate details were clearer than ever.

"How odd there's no red light," Seol-ah murmured, tilting her head as her golden eyes studied the orb.

"Well, it's magic, not science," I pointed out. The Red Sun, for all its vibrant hue, cast no crimson glow over the island. Its light was a thing of its own—subtle, mysterious, unbound by the rules of nature.

It was, quite simply, a magical existence.

Behind us, more figures emerged from the other train cars. The adults stepped out with measured purpose, joined by the ever-watchful forces of the Southern Sea Sun Palace who had first greeted us at the shore. Their disciplined ranks moved with quiet precision, as though the very air around them carried the weight of their duty.

And then, my gaze was drawn upward, toward the heart of it all.

The Palace of the Sun.

It was a marvel—grand, imposing, and radiant. Its architecture caught the light of the actual sun, bending and refracting it to create a display that was both blindingly brilliant and breathtakingly beautiful. Despite its modern elements, the palace carried an almost ethereal grace, as though it existed halfway between the mortal and the divine.

This was the center of the Southern Sea Sun Palace's power. The core of their isolation. 

And, most likely, the hidden nest of far more vampires than anyone here suspected.

I glanced back at Magnus Draykar, who stood with an almost casual air, his gaze calm and distant. Only vampires above Immortal-rank could hide their presence from someone like him. Ascendant-rank vampires might slip under his notice if he wasn't actively seeking them, but for how long? That was the question.

The Palace of the Sun gleamed before us, a beacon of both beauty and menace.

"To properly welcome our esteemed guests," Daedric Solaryn announced, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority, "we shall host a banquet this evening after you've settled into your rooms. I ask that you all join us."

"It would be our honour," Li replied smoothly, offering a polite smile. His words carried the same ease as his posture, though his eyes hinted at the ever-present vigilance beneath.

Daedric nodded once, satisfied, before gesturing for his attendants to lead us onward.

And so, we were escorted to our rooms, the grandeur of the palace unfolding around us with every step.

The path to our rooms wound through the heart of the Palace of the Sun, a place that seemed determined to remind us of its splendor at every turn. The corridors were vast, lined with towering columns that seemed to glow faintly, as though they absorbed and radiated the sunlight streaming through enchanted skylights high above.

Intricate mosaics adorned the walls, depicting tales of battles, celebrations, and myths long forgotten by the rest of the world. Each step echoed faintly, the polished marble beneath our feet so flawless that it reflected the faint shimmer of the Red Sun hanging above the island. The air was warm but not stifling, perfumed with the faint scent of blooming flowers—though I saw none.

The blending of eras was striking. The hallways felt ancient, their grandeur steeped in history, but the occasional flicker of modernity reminded us that this was no relic. Panels of softly glowing crystal embedded in the walls hinted at advanced magical technology, controlling the light, temperature, and who knew what else. It was as if the palace had plucked the best pieces from every age and woven them into a masterpiece.

As we moved deeper, servants—silent and efficient—moved in and out of the halls, their movements unintrusive yet precise. They wore simple yet elegant uniforms marked with the red sun insignia, their expressions neutral but their eyes sharp. Even here, under the guise of hospitality, the vigilance of the Southern Sea Sun Palace was unyielding.

Finally, we arrived at our rooms. The doors were grand, each carved with intricate designs unique to the guest inside. Mine bore swirling patterns of waves and storm clouds, as if mocking the turbulence I felt stepping into this place.

Inside, the room was both luxurious and austere. Sunlight poured through an enormous window that offered a sweeping view of the palace grounds and the Red Sun artifact beyond. The furnishings were tasteful—sleek and modern yet carrying an unmistakable touch of traditional craftsmanship. A bed large enough to fit three people sat in the center, its frame carved with symbols I couldn't quite place. A faint, soothing hum seemed to emanate from the walls, an enchantment, no doubt, to ease the mind.

Still, for all its comforts, the room felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage.

As I set down my belongings, I couldn't shake the feeling that the palace wasn't just hosting us—it was watching us, its golden walls hiding secrets that waited to swallow the unwary.