How To End This Marriage-Chapter 163: Footprints in the Moonlight

"Did you think you could dispose of me so easily, your Highness?" Tribal princess Sylvia smirked, a sharp glint in her eyes.

"If it weren’t for my foolish decision, you wouldn’t even be breathing, let alone standing before me. I made a grave mistake when I crowned my son prince, thinking he would be my loyal instrument. But he... he has become my downfall." The Emperor growled, frustration evident in his voice.

"Yes, your decisions were flawed, but not giving birth to your son. It was believing I would be a mere pawn in your game!I am unlike anyone in your empire, your Highness. Ambition runs through my veins. I crave obedience, I yearn for the respect of the people. And I desire the throne, from where I can rectify the wrongs you have inflicted and lift my people from their knees." Sylvia stepped closer, her voice unwavering.

"Now, fate takes a turn. Perhaps this is the moment to set things right. Don’t you agree?" she smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"What? What are you trying to do?" The Emperor’s bravado faltered, replaced by a tremor of fear.

"Nothing, your Highness, for even I am uncertain of what this vial holds. I am merely following the orders of my master, Duchess Bernice Balliol Agnes, and I hold her decisions in high regard." She smiled as she uncorked the tiny bottle, the silence in the room amplified by the anticipation.

"You dare defy me? I am your Emperor! Kneel before me, you insolent woman!" Despite his fear, the Emperor attempted to reclaim his authority.

Sylvia scoffed. "Kneel before you? You jest, your Highness. My blade would sing a bloody hymn before anyone heard my laughter. The Holy Sword guards this chamber, ensuring none intrude."

"The Holy Sword? He is but a puppet! Don’t be a fool, girl. The Supreme God created him, and his loyalties lie with the divine, not some scheming duchess. He will obey the Supreme God, no matter the consequences, no matter what sin he commits in service. The Supreme God will guide him." The Emperor’s voice cracked with desperation.

"The Supreme God? He follows the Supreme God?" Sylvia faltered, a wrinkle of confusion marring her confident brow.

"Didn’t you know? Ha! Then what do you truly know, you fool?" The Emperor cackled, a fleeting moment of triumph marred by the shadows creeping into his eyes.

"If he serves the Supreme God, then why has the Duchess kept him close, entrusting him with her secrets? It defies logic.She understands the Supreme God’s power, yet somehow broke free from his influence years ago... how?"

Sylvia’s gaze returned to the Emperor, her thoughts swirling. "No matter what the answer, your fate is sealed. I am but a blade in the Duchess’s hand, and a soldier cannot refuse their master’s command." Her eyes narrowed, a predator closing in on its prey. "Now, let us see what awaits you when you drink this."

Sylvia gripped the Emperor’s face, her eyes glinting with icy resolve. She uncorked the tiny vial, the liquid within gleaming like a captured moonbeam. Tilting the container, she dripped the potion onto the Emperor’s tongue, each drop a silent promise of control.

"Drink, your highness," she purred, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. "Only then will I witness the tableau I so eagerly await."

The Emperor’s eyes widened in terror. "W-what have you given me? I will not be your pawn!"

"Oh, you’re not," Sylvia chuckled, savoring his fear.

"You’re just a brushstroke in a masterpiece. Once I exit these gilded cages, you’ll be a footnote in a history I write."

The Emperor’s lips contorted, his words turning into strangled gasps. His body contorted, a puppet dancing to an unseen tune.

Sylvia laughed, the sound echoing through the opulent chamber. "So, it’s a paralysis toxin? Duchess Bernice certainly has a knack for the dramatic."

"Say your threats now, Emperor," she taunted, her voice a whip. "Scream your impotent fury. Or perhaps your body refuses to cooperate?"

With a final smirk, Sylvia turned to leave. But just as she stepped forward, a fresh footprint in the soil caught her eye.

"What...?" she breathed, a prickle of unease crawling up her spine. The dampness of the earth confirmed it - someone had been here. Someone she hadn’t sensed, someone who had moved through the shadows undetected.

Sylvia’s years of honed awareness screamed warnings. The Duchess’s casual words, dismissed as mere paranoia, now echoed with ominous clarity. This was no accident.

She hurried outside, where the Holy Sword Erios awaited. His eyes, usually calm as a mountain lake, held a flicker of concern.

"Did you see anyone enter the chamber?" Sylvia asked, her voice a tight knot.

"No," Erios replied, his brows furrowed. "Why? Did you?"

"No, but..." Sylvia pointed to the footprint, her voice raspy. "Someone was here. Fresh tracks, leading to the garden. I... I sensed nothing."

Erios’s face hardened. "This is grave. We must inform the Duchess immediately."

Together, they teleported back to Sylvia’s chamber. "Return, Erios," she instructed, her voice laced with urgency. "I will speak with the Duchess."

She shed her assassin’s garb, the leathers and blades feeling like a discarded skin. As she approached the Duchess’s chambers, a voice cut through the air.

"Princess," Crown Prince Maximus stood before her, his eyes sharp as honed daggers. "Such haste. What brings you to this part of the palace?"

Sylvia stumbled, her composure momentarily shaken. "Oh, Prince..." she stammered.

"I was merely inquiring about your investigation," Maximus continued, his voice measured. "Any progress? Any leads?"

Sylvia’s mind raced. Deny, deflect, obfuscate. She forced a smile. "No, your Highness. Not yet. But I assure you, my pursuit continues."

Before she could turn, Maximus’s hand shot out, a steel trap on her wrist. "Princess Sylvia," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "Have you forgotten the protocols of court?"

"Your Highness, I beg forgiveness!" Sylvia stammered, trying to ignore the suspicion flickering in the Prince’s eyes. "After the incident, my memory has been plagued by lapses, as if someone tampered with my mind."

The Prince forced a smile, his gaze still scrutinizing Sylvia. "It’s alright, Princess. I am only curious about your sudden disappearance; no one could find you for days."

"I understand your concern," Sylvia said, forcing a confident tone. "I will ensure I keep you informed of my investigation progress."

Before she could explain further, the Prince turned and walked away.

"Did he suspect something?" Sylvia mumbled, worry gnawing at her. "I must regain his trust, whatever it takes."

Steeling her resolve, she approached the Duchess’s chamber. "Duchess, are you within?" she called out.

Duke emerged from the room. "Princess Sylvia, what brings you here? Do you require assistance with the Duchess?"

"Oh, Duke, I apologize for the late hour. I urgently need to speak with the Duchess, if you wouldn’t mind."

The Duke chuckled. "Of course, Princess. You needn’t my permission to see the Duchess. In fact, I’m glad to see you two forming such a strong bond."

"I appreciate your sentiment," Sylvia said, entering the chamber.

Inside, the Duchess sat with a preoccupied air. "Let me check if anyone’s outside," she muttered, approaching the door.After confirming Duke’s absence, she returned, her gaze sharp. "Tell me, Princess, what brings you here so abruptly? Did you complete the task I entrusted you with?"

"I did, Duchess, but there’s a problem."

"Problem? Explain yourself." The Duchess leaned forward, her expression unreadable.

"I discovered a footprint inside the Emperor’s chamber, fresh and damp. Someone entered while I was on guard, yet I sensed nothing. How could this be possible?"

The Duchess’s eyes narrowed. "My suspicions were correct, then."

"What do you mean?" Sylvia’s voice trembled with curiosity.

"There’s someone within the palace who wields magic, unseen and unknown. This individual seeks revenge on the Emperor in the shadows."

"Magic? But who could it be?" Sylvia gasped.

"I haven’t identified them yet," the Duchess admitted, her voice grim. "The Emperor’s transgressions are vast, leaving no shortage of disgruntled souls. We must act fast. The damp soil indicates the intruder recently traversed the garden. Let’s investigate immediately."

With newfound urgency, the Duchess and Sylvia hurried towards the garden, determined to unravel the mystery before it unraveled their plans.

"Duchess, where are you going at this hour?" Duke asked as they came out of the room.

"Oh, Duke, we aren’t going anywhere!" Sylvia said quickly, her voice laced with a hint of nervousness. "The Duchess simply felt the urge to wander the garden for a bit. We’ll just take a short stroll, and once she’s feeling refreshed, we’ll return."

The Duke’s brow furrowed slightly. "Is everything alright? Perhaps I should accompany you both."

Duchess Bernice, her eyes betraying a flicker of unease, shook her head firmly. "No, thank you, Duke. I need some quiet reflection, a peaceful walk to clear my head. You stay and rest, I won’t be long."

She forced a smile, its edges strained. The Duke, sensing her unspoken anxiety, sighed and offered a gentle nod."As you wish, my love. I’ll be waiting for you in our chamber. But don’t be too long, I miss you already."

With a playful wink, he turned and retreated to their quarters. The Duchess watched him go, her expression hardening as the door closed.

Sylvia, catching her breath, whispered, "Duchess, what’s wrong? Did something happen?"

Duchess Bernice’s shoulders slumped, a wave of weariness washing over her. "Let’s just get to the garden, Sylvia," she muttered. "There’s much to discuss, and it’s best done away from prying ears."