The bells of De Rosa Palace rang seven times across the capital of Roseria.

Their echoes rolled through the silver-lit streets like a warning from the heavens themselves.

Winter had descended upon the empire early that year. Snow drifted endlessly from the dark skies, coating the marble bridges and towering cathedrals of the capital in pale frost. Yet despite the freezing winds, thousands gathered beyond the palace gates, hoping for a glimpse of the royal banquet that would take place before midnight.

The Winter Moon Banquet.

The grandest celebration in all of Roseria.

Inside De Rosa Palace, servants rushed desperately through endless corridors lined with golden mirrors and crimson banners embroidered with silver roses — the sacred symbol of the royal bloodline.

Every chandelier blazed with enchanted flames.

Every polished floor reflected the glow of magic.

Every noble family across the empire had arrived.

And yet…

The atmosphere inside the palace felt wrong.

Heavy.

Tense.

As though something terrible waited behind the beauty.

“The Silverfin has not arrived?”

The cold voice shattered the silence of the royal kitchens.

Every servant immediately lowered their heads.

Standing near the frost-covered windows was Crown Prince Rodderic Van Loren De Rosa.

The heir to the Roserian throne.

At twenty-three years old, Rodderic already carried the reputation of a ruler far more terrifying than his father, the emperor himself. His silver eyes were sharp enough to silence entire rooms, while his beauty only made him seem more dangerous.

Tonight, dressed entirely in black and silver royal garments, he looked less like a prince…

…and more like a weapon carved from moonlight.

“No, Your Highness,” the head chef whispered shakily. “Our hunters have failed to return from Lake Noctis.”

A faint crack echoed through the room.

Rodderic had tightened his grip around the crystal wine glass in his hand hard enough to fracture it.

Drops of crimson blood slid slowly across his pale fingers.

Nobody dared move.

Lake Noctis.

Even hearing its name was enough to fill ordinary men with fear.

The cursed lake rested beyond Roseria’s northern forests, hidden beneath endless black fog where countless fishermen had disappeared without explanation. People believed ancient spirits slept beneath its waters.

Others believed something far worse lived there.

And tonight—

the royal banquet depended upon a fish that could only be found within that cursed lake.

Silverfin.

Rare.

Beautiful.

Deadly to obtain.

Without it, the banquet would be incomplete.

And Roseria would be humiliated before every noble house and foreign empire gathered beneath De Rosa Palace’s roof.

Rodderic slowly set the cracked wine glass aside.

“Search again,” he ordered coldly.

“Your Highness, midnight approaches—”

“I said search again.”

The chef immediately bowed lower.

“Yes, Crown Prince.”

Rodderic turned away from the kitchens without another word, his black royal cloak sweeping across the marble floors behind him.

Servants hurried aside the moment he passed.

Nobody wished to meet the gaze of Roseria’s crown prince for too long.

Especially not tonight.

The grand ballroom of De Rosa Palace glittered like a dream.

Hundreds of nobles filled the chamber beneath floating crystal chandeliers while musicians played soft melodies upon enchanted violins. Golden masks, silk gloves, diamonds, and royal insignias shimmered beneath the candlelight.

But hidden beneath the elegance—

everyone was whispering.

“Have you heard?”

“They failed to retrieve the Silverfin.”

“The banquet may collapse before midnight.”

“How embarrassing for Roseria…”

Rodderic entered the ballroom quietly.

Yet the moment he appeared, silence spread instantly.

Nobles lowered their heads.

Some out of respect.

Others out of fear.

The crown prince ignored them all.

Until—

His footsteps stopped.

At the far end of the ballroom, near the frost-crystal windows overlooking the snowy capital, stood a man dressed in silver-black royal attire.

Tall.

Elegant.

Untouchable.

Prince Aurelian Vaelith De Ravaryn of the Velmoria Empire.

The moment their eyes met, the air itself seemed to freeze.

Aurelian’s light green eyes glimmered beneath the candlelight like sharpened emeralds, calm and unreadable. His dark ginger hair fell carelessly across his forehead, while the faint smirk upon his lips looked almost insulting.

Beautiful.

Dangerously so.

The nobles nearby quickly stepped away from him.

Not because he had spoken.

But because everyone in the ballroom knew the history between Roseria and Velmoria.

Two empires.

Two crown princes.

And a rivalry old enough to terrify kingdoms.

Aurelian slowly lifted his wine glass toward Rodderic.

Not respectfully.

Mockingly.

Rodderic’s expression remained emotionless.

But the tension between them spread through the ballroom like invisible fire.

Once—

years ago—

they had been inseparable.

Now, they barely spoke.

And whenever they did…

something disastrous followed.

“How nostalgic,” Aurelian suddenly murmured.

His voice was smooth and calm, yet somehow capable of cutting deeper than swords.

Rodderic approached slowly.

“What exactly is nostalgic?”

“The silence,” Aurelian replied lazily. “Your nobles look terrified tonight.”

Several nearby aristocrats immediately turned pale.

Rodderic stopped before him.

Close enough to hear each other’s breathing.

“You came a long way merely to criticize my empire?”

Aurelian tilted his head slightly.

“No.”

His smirk deepened.

“I came to witness whether Roseria truly deserves its reputation.”

The insult was subtle.

But deadly.

Several nobles quietly looked away.

Rodderic’s silver eyes sharpened dangerously.

Yet before either prince could continue—

the ballroom doors burst open.

A guard hurried inside, breathless.

“Your Highness!”

Every noble turned.

The guard immediately knelt before Rodderic.

“A fisherman has arrived from Lake Noctis.”

The entire ballroom erupted into whispers.

Rodderic’s gaze darkened instantly.

“And the Silverfin?”

The guard swallowed nervously.

“He claims to possess it.”

For the first time that evening—

the tension within the ballroom shifted.

Aurelian’s smirk disappeared slightly.

Interesting.

Rodderic immediately turned toward the palace entrance halls.

“Bring him inside.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

As guards rushed away, nobles exploded into conversation once more.

“How is that possible?”

“Someone survived Lake Noctis?”

“A common fisherman?”

Rodderic said nothing.

But deep within his chest, something uneasy stirred.

Lake Noctis did not release people so easily.

Especially during winter.

Meanwhile—

far beyond the palace walls—

snowstorm winds howled violently against the capital streets.

A lone figure stood at the palace gates, soaked in freezing water and blood.

His dark cloak hung heavily from his shoulders while trembling fingers gripped a silver-scaled fish wrapped carefully in cloth.

The Silverfin.

Moonlight reflected against its shimmering scales.

Alive.

Beautiful.

Cursed.

Standing before him was the royal gatekeeper of De Rosa Palace.

Lord Nytheris.

Tall.

Cruel-faced.

Draped in black velvet embroidered with silver chains.

His eyes slowly narrowed as he stared at the exhausted fisherman.

Then—

his gaze shifted toward the Silverfin.

Greed flickered instantly across his face.

And hidden beneath the violent snowfall of Roseria…

fate quietly began to move.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

...----------------...

The snowfall over Roseria grew heavier as midnight approached.

Wind clawed violently against the towering walls of De Rosa Palace while nobles continued whispering beneath glittering chandeliers, desperate for distraction from the growing humiliation surrounding the missing Silverfin.

Yet no music could fully erase the tension poisoning the ballroom.

Because everyone was waiting.

Waiting for the fisherman who had supposedly survived Lake Noctis.

A place no ordinary man escaped alive.

Near the frost-crystal windows, Prince Aurelian Vaelith De Ravaryn lazily swirled the dark wine within his glass while observing the ballroom with unreadable green eyes.

Beautiful nobles.

False smiles.

Hidden fear.

Political masks.

How boring.

Velmoria’s crown prince had attended countless royal gatherings across empires, yet Roseria’s court remained uniquely exhausting.

Too elegant.

Too careful.

Too silent.

And at the center of it all—

stood Rodderic Van Loren De Rosa.

Cold.

Untouchable.

Perfect.

Aurelian’s gaze lingered upon the Roserian crown prince for a moment too long before he calmly looked away again.

The grand ballroom doors suddenly opened.

Every conversation died instantly.

Guards entered first.

Then—

a lone figure stepped inside.

The fisherman.

Gasps spread quietly through the ballroom.

He looked barely alive.

His dark clothes were soaked with freezing water, stained by blood and mud from the cursed lake. Wet strands of black hair clung to his forehead while exhaustion weighed heavily beneath his eyes.

Yet despite his miserable appearance…

he held something carefully within his trembling hands.

Wrapped in dark cloth.

The Silverfin.

Even beneath layers of fabric, its silver glow shimmered faintly through the ballroom.

Several nobles instinctively stepped backward.

As though frightened by it.

The fisherman slowly lowered himself onto one knee before the throne platform.

“Your Highness,” he said hoarsely.

Rodderic descended the marble steps slowly.

Every noble watched silently.

Even Aurelian’s attention sharpened slightly.

“How did you survive Lake Noctis?” Rodderic asked calmly.

The fisherman hesitated.

For the first time, unease flickered across his face.

“The lake…” he whispered quietly, “did not wish to let me leave.”

Several nobles visibly paled.

Rodderic’s silver eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

The fisherman swallowed hard.

“I heard voices beneath the water.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

“They sounded human at first,” he continued shakily. “But when the fog grew thicker… the voices began calling my name.”

A few servants quickly made signs of protection against evil spirits.

Meanwhile, Aurelian merely watched quietly.

Interested.

“The waters moved strangely,” the fisherman continued. “Something followed my boat beneath the ice.”

The ballroom grew colder.

“I caught the Silverfin near the center of the lake… but when I tried returning—”

His voice suddenly stopped.

Fear flashed briefly within his eyes.

“As if something was watching?” Aurelian interrupted softly.

The fisherman immediately looked toward him.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Then his face lost all color.

“You…” he whispered.

Several nobles exchanged confused glances.

Aurelian tilted his head slightly.

“Have we met?”

The fisherman quickly lowered his gaze again.

“No, Your Highness.”

Too quickly.

Rodderic noticed immediately.

And judging by the faint shift in Aurelian’s expression—

so did he.

Interesting.

“Your name,” Rodderic said.

“…Zephyr.”

The crown prince extended his hand toward the wrapped cloth.

Zephyr carefully uncovered the fish.

A collective gasp echoed throughout the ballroom.

The Silverfin was breathtaking.

Its scales shimmered like liquid silver beneath the chandeliers while faint blue light pulsed softly along its body. The creature almost appeared magical rather than real.

For a moment—

even Rodderic seemed impressed.

“The banquet may proceed after all,” a noble murmured in relief.

But before the atmosphere could settle—

a scream suddenly shattered the ballroom.

Everyone turned instantly.

One of the palace servants collapsed onto the marble floor near the musicians.

Dead.

Panic erupted immediately.

“What happened?!”

“She was fine moments ago!”

Blood slowly trickled from the servant girl’s mouth.

Black veins spread unnaturally across her pale skin.

The musicians stopped playing at once.

Nobles stumbled backward in fear.

“Poison,” someone whispered horrified.

Rodderic’s expression darkened instantly.

“Seal the ballroom.”

Guards immediately rushed toward the exits.

Nobody protested.

Nobody dared.

Meanwhile—

Aurelian calmly approached the dead servant and crouched beside her body.

The entire ballroom watched silently.

The Velmorian prince gently lifted the girl’s wrist before studying the black veins spreading beneath her skin.

Then—

his eyes sharpened slightly.

“How fascinating.”

Rodderic descended the steps immediately.

“What is it?”

Aurelian looked upward slowly.

“This is not ordinary poison.”

The ballroom fell silent again.

Aurelian’s green eyes flickered toward the Silverfin still resting within Zephyr’s hands.

Then—

toward Rodderic.

“It’s magic.”

Whispers exploded instantly.

Forbidden magic.

The one thing feared across every empire.

Because magic capable of killing silently without spells belonged to only one thing—

ancient blood rituals.

Rodderic’s voice turned dangerously cold.

“Explain.”

Aurelian stood slowly.

“The poison attacks the blood directly,” he said calmly. “Look carefully.”

The black veins beneath the servant’s skin were moving.

Alive.

Several nobles nearly vomited.

“She was infected before entering this ballroom,” Aurelian continued. “Meaning someone inside the palace brought this here intentionally.”

Fear spread instantly across the court.

An assassin.

Inside De Rosa Palace.

Rodderic’s silver eyes swept across the terrified nobles.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody breathed comfortably.

Then—

suddenly—

Aurelian’s gaze shifted toward Zephyr again.

The fisherman froze.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Because for a brief moment—

Aurelian looked almost suspicious of him.

But before anyone could question further—

another voice interrupted.

“Rodderic!”

The tension broke instantly as a young woman hurried through the ballroom doors.

Lady Evelisse Valecrest.

Soft golden curls framed her delicate face while pale blue silk flowed elegantly around her figure. Though beautiful enough to capture attention instantly, there was something gentle and fragile about her appearance tonight.

Readers of the court adored Evelisse.

So did the nobles.

And most importantly—

she was the stepdaughter of the emperor’s future bride.

The moment she reached Rodderic, relief flooded her expression.

“You’re unharmed…”

Without hesitation, Rodderic gently touched her shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

The interaction was brief.

Natural.

Comforting.

Yet several nobles immediately exchanged knowing smiles.

Aurelian watched the scene silently from afar.

Expressionless.

Evelisse finally noticed the dead servant nearby and gasped softly.

“What happened?”

“Nobody leaves the ballroom,” Rodderic ordered coldly instead.

The warmth in his voice vanished instantly.

Guards obeyed immediately.

Fear thickened across the hall once more.

And somewhere within the frozen shadows of De Rosa Palace—

someone smiled.

Because the game had finally begun.

...----------------...

...****************...

Nobody moved.

Nobody dared.

The grand ballroom of De Rosa Palace had transformed from a celebration into a prison within moments. Fear spread quietly among the nobles as guards sealed every golden entrance while the corpse of the servant girl remained motionless against the marble floor.

The enchanted violins had stopped playing.

Now, only silence remained.

Heavy.

Cold.

Watching.

Rodderic stood near the center of the ballroom, his silver eyes unreadable as palace physicians carefully examined the dead servant.

Black veins continued spreading beneath her pale skin.

Alive.

Moving.

Several nobles turned away in disgust.

“Your Highness…”

An elderly physician slowly rose to his feet, trembling slightly.

“It is exactly as Prince Aurelian said.”

The ballroom stiffened.

“This poison contains traces of forbidden blood magic.”

Whispers erupted instantly.

“Impossible…”

“Blood magic was destroyed decades ago.”

“Who would dare use such magic inside De Rosa Palace?”

Meanwhile, Aurelian leaned lazily beside one of the frost-crystal pillars, looking almost amused by the panic surrounding him.

His calmness only made the atmosphere worse.

Because unlike the others—

he did not look afraid.

Not even slightly.

Rodderic noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“You seem unusually comfortable,” he said coldly.

Several nobles immediately fell silent again.

Aurelian slowly lifted his gaze toward him.

“And you seem unusually suspicious.”

The tension between them sharpened instantly.

Dangerous.

Familiar.

Rodderic descended the throne platform slowly until he stood directly before the Velmorian prince once more.

“You identified the poison very quickly.”

Aurelian’s lips curved faintly.

“Should I apologize for being educated?”

A few nobles quietly inhaled.

Nobody insulted Roseria’s crown prince so casually.

Yet strangely—

Rodderic did not react with anger.

Only silence.

A silence that somehow felt heavier than rage itself.

Then—

a soft voice interrupted.

“Please stop.”

Lady Evelisse stepped between them carefully.

The ballroom immediately watched her.

Beautiful.

Gentle.

Fragile-looking beneath candlelight.

Her pale blue gown shimmered softly while concern clouded her delicate features.

“This is neither the time nor place for conflict,” she said quietly.

For a brief moment, Rodderic’s expression softened slightly.

“You should return to your chambers.”

“I won’t leave while the palace is unsafe.”

The concern in her voice sounded genuine.

Real.

Several noblewomen nearby exchanged knowing glances.

Such devotion.

Such loyalty.

Perfect future empress behavior.

Meanwhile, Aurelian observed the interaction silently.

His expression unreadable.

Then his gaze drifted toward Rodderic’s hand resting briefly against Evelisse’s shoulder.

Something cold flickered within his green eyes.

Gone instantly.

“You care greatly for Lady Evelisse,” Aurelian remarked casually.

The ballroom quieted again.

Everyone knew rumors already surrounded them.

The emperor’s future wife had a daughter.

Rodderic’s future marriage prospects remained uncertain.

And Evelisse—

beautiful, noble, beloved—

was the perfect political choice.

Rodderic answered calmly.

“She is family.”

Aurelian hummed softly.

“Family.”

Something about the way he repeated the word felt strange.

As though he found it amusing.

Before Rodderic could respond, another guard rushed into the ballroom hurriedly.

“Your Highness!”

“What now?”

The guard knelt immediately.

“We found this near the servant quarters.”

He carefully presented a small object wrapped in dark cloth.

Rodderic unfolded it slowly.

Inside rested a black rose.

The flower looked almost unnatural beneath the candlelight, its petals edged with silver dust.

Aurelian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Interesting.

Because he recognized that symbol.

And if he recognized it—

then someone else in the ballroom likely did too.

“The Black Thorn,” Aurelian murmured quietly.

Several older nobles visibly paled.

Evelisse looked confused.

“What is that?”

Nobody answered immediately.

Finally, one elderly duke spoke shakily.

“A secret organization.”

Fear filled his voice.

“They disappeared years ago.”

“Not disappeared,” Aurelian corrected softly.

“Hidden.”

The ballroom grew colder.

Rodderic’s expression darkened dangerously.

“The Black Thorn trafficked forbidden magic,” Aurelian continued calmly. “Assassinations. Blood rituals. Noble corruption.”

“And you know a suspicious amount about them,” Rodderic said sharply.

Aurelian merely smiled faintly.

“Velmoria’s libraries are more useful than Roseria’s, apparently.”

Several nobles immediately looked uncomfortable again.

The emperor himself had forbidden discussion of the Black Thorn for years.

Yet tonight—

their symbol had appeared inside the palace.

Alongside forbidden magic.

Near the crown prince.

Coincidence?

Unlikely.

Meanwhile—

near the edge of the ballroom—

Zephyr remained silent.

Watching.

Listening.

His exhausted appearance caused most nobles to ignore him completely now.

But his eyes slowly drifted toward the black rose within Rodderic’s hand.

And for the first time since arriving—

fear crossed his face.

Real fear.

Aurelian noticed immediately.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The Velmorian prince slowly approached him.

“Have you seen that symbol before?” he asked softly.

Zephyr froze.

“No.”

Too fast.

Aurelian smiled slightly.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Rodderic’s attention shifted instantly toward them.

Zephyr lowered his gaze quickly.

“I only wish to leave the palace, Your Highness.”

“Unfortunately,” Rodderic said coldly, “nobody leaves tonight.”

The fisherman visibly tensed.

Meanwhile, hidden among the terrified nobles—

someone quietly watched the entire scene unfold.

A woman.

Elegant.

Graceful.

Beautiful despite her age.

Lady Seraphine Valecrest.

Evelisse’s mother.

Her ruby-red gown shimmered beneath the candlelight while diamond rings glittered across her fingers.

To the empire, she appeared refined and sophisticated.

The perfect future empress.

But beneath her calm smile—

her nails dug deeply into her wine glass.

Blood magic.

Black Thorn.

Lake Noctis.

This was becoming dangerous.

Far too dangerous.

Especially after all these years.

Her gaze slowly shifted toward Rodderic.

And for the briefest moment—

something strange crossed her eyes.

Not affection.

Not warmth.

Fear.

Then—

suddenly—

the ballroom lights flickered violently.

Gasps echoed instantly.

The enchanted flames dimmed.

Once.

Twice.

Then every chandelier in the ballroom exploded into darkness.

Screams erupted.

Several nobles panicked immediately.

The entire palace fell black.

Only moonlight remained.

Cold silver moonlight pouring through the frost-crystal windows.

Then—

footsteps echoed somewhere within the darkness.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Not guards.

Not servants.

Someone else.

Rodderic immediately drew the silver dagger hidden beneath his royal coat.

“Stay where you are,” he ordered sharply.

Another scream echoed.

Closer this time.

Then—

a body collapsed from above.

Directly onto the ballroom floor.

Blood splattered across white marble.

Evelisse gasped in horror.

Several nobles nearly fainted.

The chandeliers suddenly reignited all at once.

And there—

lying dead before the entire royal court—

was one of the emperor’s personal guards.

A black rose had been shoved violently into his mouth.

And carved across his throat in fresh blood were three words.

THE THORN REMEMBERS.

...****************...