Chapter 95: The Queen’s Invitation

When the news of Kaer’s arrest reached the palace, Saelis was having breakfast.

After listening to the guard’s report, he was silent for a long time, then put down his chopsticks.

“That student…”

He began.

“Has he been interrogated?”

“Yes.”

The guard lowered his head.

“He insists it was a momentary impulse, no one instigated him.”

Saelis didn’t speak.

Vanessa beside him sighed softly.

“Poor child, probably driven by the expulsion.”

She turned to Saelis, her voice gentle.

“Your Majesty, this matter… perhaps we could just let it go? After all, he didn’t actually hurt anyone.”

Saelis glanced at her, his gaze very light, but it choked off the Queen’s next words.

“That student named Irina—”

Saelis spoke, his voice low.

“Have you checked on her?”

The guard hesitated.

“Yes. She… has no issues. Excellent grades, good conduct, highly praised by teachers and classmates. The Mutual Aid Society is also doing well, helping many commoner students.”

“Good conduct.”

Saelis repeated, then suddenly let out a cold laugh.

“Why would someone go to a student with good conduct to cry? And after crying, why would they take a knife to someone else’s building?”

The hall fell silent.

Saelis sat there, motionless.

“Continue investigating.”

Saelis stood up.

“If that student won’t talk, investigate from other angles. Someone will talk eventually.”

He walked out.

Vanessa sat still, watching his back for a long time, then she stood and left too.

Only the guard remained in the hall, kneeling, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

That afternoon, Freya received a letter. It was from her grandfather, just one line.

“Girl, if something happens, come back. Grandpa’s here.”

She folded the letter and put it in the drawer, along with Sophie’s letter and Irina’s letter.

Lyra was lying on the floor mat, secretly watching her movements, seeing her open the drawer, put the letter in, and seeing two other envelopes in the drawer.

“Boss.”

“Mm.”

“What’s that?”

Freya closed the drawer.

“Letters.”

“Who wrote them?”

Freya was silent for a moment.

“A friend. And another… not a friend.”

Lyra blinked, not asking further.

She lay back down, hugging the Monster Bestiary, flipping to the page on the Snowfield Wolf King. The wolf stood on a moonlit cliff peak, howling at the sky, its red eyes like two blazing flames.

“Boss.”

“Mm.”

“I had a dream last night.”

Freya turned to look at her. Lyra stared at the illustration, her red eyes a bit unfocused.

“I dreamed of that wolf. It stood right in front of me, so big, so white, eyes like fire. It looked at me, as if wanting to say something.”

“What did it say?”

Lyra shook her head.

“It didn’t say it. Then I woke up.”

She paused, her voice lowering.

“But I feel it’s very sad.”

Freya watched her for a long time, then walked over and crouched beside her.

“Dreams are fake.”

Lyra looked up, those red eyes close, filled with confusion and unease.

“But I feel it’s real. I feel it’s somewhere, waiting for me.”

Freya was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently rubbed that fluffy head.

“Then go find it.”

Lyra was stunned.

“Find it?”

“If it’s really waiting for you—”

Freya’s voice was very soft.

“You’ll find it eventually.”

Lyra looked at her, at those calm light purple eyes, and suddenly smiled. That little wolf fang sparkled under the light.

“Mm! When I find it, I’ll take boss to see it!”

Freya didn’t answer, just stood up and walked back to the desk. Lyra lay on the floor mat, continuing to look at the wolf, her eyelids growing heavier, until she fell asleep holding the book.

Outside the window, night fell again. In the distant window belonging to Irina, the light was still on. She sat at the desk, a letter spread before her, with just one line—

“Don’t make any more moves.”

She brought the letter close to the candle flame, watching it burn bit by bit, ashes falling on the desk. She didn’t wipe them away.

She just sat there, staring at the ashes for a long time. Then she looked up, gazing at the window with the light on outside.

In that window, there were two people. One reading, one sleeping, very quiet, very warm.

She watched for a long time, then blew out the candle. The room fell into darkness.

The Queen’s invitation came secretly and suddenly.

That evening, when Irina came out of the library, an inconspicuous maid was waiting at the door, wearing a deep gray dress that didn’t fit with the academy, head lowered, posture humble.

She handed over a folded note, with no salutation, no signature, only a line of elegant handwriting.

“Tonight, the usual place.”

Irina clenched the note in her palm, her fingertips turning pale.

She didn’t ask who sent the letter, nor where the “usual place” was. She just nodded, turned, and walked into the dusk.

The side hall of Moonlight Hall was small, but exquisite to the point of luxury. Silk rugs from the East hung on the walls, and agarwood tribute from the South filled the air.

Vanessa sat on the soft couch by the window, holding a cup of tea.

The tea had gone cold.

She didn’t drink, just held it, her gaze on the heavy night outside.

The door was pushed open softly. Irina entered, her steps light, her skirt brushing the ground without a sound.

She stopped in front of Vanessa, slightly bowing.

“Your Highness.”

Vanessa didn’t turn around, still gazing out the window. The silence stretched like a river with no end in sight. Irina held her bowing posture, motionless.

Finally, Vanessa spoke.

“You’ve disappointed me greatly.”

Her voice was soft, light as a leaf falling on water, but what lay beneath was more startling than any roar.

Irina’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. She didn’t defend herself, just lowered her head.

“That student matter—”

Vanessa finally turned her head, blue eyes fixed on her.

“You did it.”

Not a question, a statement.

Irina was silent for a long time, until Vanessa’s patience was nearly exhausted.

“It wasn’t me.”

She looked up, those pink eyes filled with innocence and grievance.

“Your Highness, you know me. I wouldn’t do something that stupid.”

Vanessa looked at her for a long time. Those blue eyes were like two mirrors, reflecting every subtle expression on Irina’s face. Then she smiled, a very cold smile.

“You wouldn’t do something that stupid.”

She repeated.

“But you did it.”

Irina’s expression froze for a moment.

“You think I don’t know?”

Vanessa stood, walked in front of her, looking down at her.

“On the night Kaer was expelled, he came to you. After leaving your place, he took a knife to Freya’s building. You think these things can’t be investigated?”

Irina stood motionless, the innocent expression on her face slowly fading, revealing what lay beneath—not fear, not panic, but a calmness almost like resignation.

“How does Your Highness wish to deal with me?”

Her voice was very calm. Vanessa looked at her, at that suddenly unfamiliar face.

She had seen this face many times—when beside Ross, that face always wore a gentle and humble smile. In front of her, that face was always full of respect and obedience.

But now, there was nothing on that face, only a bare, undisguised calm.

“You think I don’t dare touch you?”

Vanessa’s voice turned cold.

Irina didn’t retreat. She just looked at Vanessa, at those golden eyes blazing with anger.

“Your Highness certainly dares.”

She paused.

“But Your Highness won’t.”

Vanessa’s fingers tightened abruptly. Irina continued, her voice still calm.

“Because Your Highness needs me.”

Vanessa stared at her. Irina met her gaze, word by word.

“Your Highness arranged for me to come to the Academy not to make me the Crown Princess Consort—Your Highness never intended for a commoner to become Crown Princess.”

She paused.

“What Your Highness needs me to do is something else.”

Vanessa’s expression changed.

“Your Highness needs someone who can restrain Freya, someone who can provide comfort to Ross when he hits a wall with Freya, someone—”

Her voice suddenly lowered.

“Someone who can make Ross obedient.”

The hall was dead silent. The Queen stood motionless, stormy waves churning in those blue eyes. Irina looked at her expression, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

“Your Highness, I did nothing wrong. Regarding Kaer’s matter, I only said a few words. He took the knife himself, walked the path himself. Freya wasn’t hurt, Kaer didn’t harm her. Everything is still under control.”

She paused.

“Isn’t this what Your Highness wants?”

Vanessa was silent for a long time, then turned and walked back to the window.

Outside, the night was heavy, the moon hidden by clouds, only a few scattered lights in the distance.

“Leave.”

Her voice suddenly became very tired.

Irina didn’t move.

She looked at the Queen’s back, at that well-maintained face now filled with exhaustion and irritation.

“Your Highness.”

Vanessa didn’t turn.

“I have a way.”

Irina’s voice came from behind, very light, but it made Vanessa’s steps pause.

“What way?”

“Making Ross the Holy Sword Hero.”

Vanessa whirled around, those blue eyes wide.

“What did you say?”

Irina stood there. Moonlight seeped through the clouds, falling on her pink hair, on the faint smile at the corners of her mouth.

“Your Highness should already know about the oracle. The Evil God is about to descend, only the Holy Sword Hero can seal him.”

She paused.

“And the Holy Sword—who will it choose?”

The Queen’s pupils slowly contracted.

“His Highness Ross is the legitimate eldest son of the Castor family, carrying the purest royal blood.”

Irina’s voice grew softer, light as if telling a secret.