Chapter 231: The Intruder on the Ceiling

The servants ran back and forth through the corridors of the Royal Palace with the desperate discipline of people trying to pretend that absolutely nothing was going wrong.

Silver trays passed through the kitchen doors in a steady stream. Bottles of refined blood were carried to temporary cellars. Floral arrangements were remade for the third time because someone had decided the black roses were two fingers higher than the correct height. Servants polished railings that already shone, soldiers reviewed patrol routes, seamstresses crossed the corridors carrying emergency uniforms, and two butlers nearly started a war over the position of a table no important guest would ever notice.

Everything had to be perfect.

Not good.

Not acceptable.

Perfect.

This was the first major court event in a long time. It would gather some of the most important figures in the Vampire Realm and, as if that were not enough, the Princess had awakened from a sleep of nearly two thousand years and would be attending.

At the center of that organizational hell stood Violet.

The Royal Palace’s head steward remained in the middle of the main hall with a thick clipboard held against her chest, her hair tied up impeccably despite a few strands already coming loose, and an expression that clearly said she was three problems away from committing murder.

"Those tables go to the right."

Two servants immediately changed direction.

"Not that right, you animals. My right."

They turned back.

Violet closed her eyes for a second.

"No... Now you reversed everything."

One of the servants froze.

"Lady Violet, then should we—"

"Put it back where it was."

"But you just—"

"I KNOW WHAT I JUST SAID."

The man vanished with the table before she decided to add him to the menu.

Violet took a deep breath and looked back at the list.

"Main hall, done. East gallery, almost done. Guest rooms, twenty-seven prepared, six still awaiting inspection. Kitchen..."

She heard something break in the distance.

Her eyes slowly closed.

"I don’t want to know."

A maid came running down the corridor.

"Lady Violet!"

"If someone died, hide the body until after the gala."

"No one died."

"Then it isn’t urgent."

"The kitchen reported that the stock of dragon blood reserved for high-level guests arrived twenty bottles short."

Violet raised her eyes.

"How?"

"The storage count was wrong."

"Who did the count?"

"Marcel."

"Fire Marcel."

"He’s the cellar manager’s nephew."

"Fire the cellar manager too."

The maid blinked.

"Yes, ma’am."

"And have them buy the twenty missing bottles."

"But the price went up because of the event."

"Do I look like someone who cares about the price right now?"

"No, ma’am."

"Good."

The maid ran off.

Violet slowly lowered the clipboard and stared at the ceiling as if asking some higher entity for answers.

"How the fuck do people hold a banquet this size every year?"

No one answered.

"Who had the idea of putting six hundred guests inside a castle?"

A servant passed by carrying an ice sculpture.

"Don’t answer."

He sped up.

Violet started walking again.

"And why do vampires need fifty kinds of blood? Blood is blood. Drink it and be done. But no. Virgin blood, aged blood, magical beast blood, blood mixed with spices, crystallized blood..."

She violently flipped a page.

"If anyone asks for unicorn blood, I’m serving colored water and telling them to be grateful."

The scene slowly pulled away from the exhausted woman.

Up the columns of the hall.

Past the chandeliers.

And toward the ceiling.

Where someone was lying upside down, completely invisible to everyone below.

The man remained stuck to the stone like a spider. Dark clothes covered his body, his face was partially hidden, and a thin layer of natural energy surrounded his skin.

It was not ordinary invisibility.

The energy merged with the surrounding structure, diverting attention, scent, sound, and even part of the vampires’ spiritual perception.

A werewolf.

And at that moment, he was staring directly at Violet.

Should I kill this bitch?

The woman kept complaining.

She never shuts up.

Violet pointed at another group of servants.

"Those curtains are crooked!"

They aren’t.

"REDO THEM."

The werewolf closed his eyes for a moment.

She deserves it.

But that was not his mission.

He needed to remain hidden.

Getting inside the Royal Palace had already required months of preparation, studied routes, forged documents, and an absurd amount of energy to get through the outer detection layers.

All for one thing.

I need to steal that soon.

If he waited until the gala began, there would be too many important people inside the castle. Generals, marshals, ancient nobles, and monsters who might pierce through his camouflage just by breathing near him.

Now was the best opportunity.

The werewolf flexed his fingers.

Natural energy gathered in his palms and the soles of his feet, anchoring his body to the ceiling.

He began to walk.

One step.

Then another.

Silent.

Perfect.

A few meters away was a passage leading to the inner corridors, and from that route he could reach the wing where his target was being kept.

He placed one hand against the stone.

Stopped.

Something was wrong.

He heard no sound.

He sensed no presence approaching.

Even so, his animal instinct began to scream.

The hairs on his arms stood on end.

What?

He tried to take another step.

His foot did not touch the ceiling.

His body began drifting away from the stone.

His eyes widened.

No.

The natural energy was still working.

He should have remained attached.

But some force simply ignored it.

The werewolf began to float.

First a few centimeters.

Then half a meter.

Red-violet energy appeared around his body, wrapping around his arms, legs, neck, and torso like a second invisible skin.

His camouflage collapsed instantly.

"How cute."

The voice came from below him.

The werewolf turned his head.

A woman stood in the hall looking directly upward.

Eleonora Thorne.

She looked completely calm.

One hand remained raised, fingers slightly curled, while that red-violet energy pulsed around the intruder.

Violet noticed where Eleonora was looking.

She followed her gaze.

Saw the man floating near the ceiling.

Her eyes widened.

"Intruder!"

The clipboard hit the floor.

Violet slammed her hand against a seal attached to her waist.

The entire palace responded.

A deep alarm rolled through the corridors, followed by dozens of runes lighting up across the walls at once. Inner doors began to close, barriers activated, and soldiers immediately changed their patrol routes.

The werewolf tried to unleash all of his natural energy.

Nothing happened.

The pressure around his body increased.

"H-how did you..."

He felt his ribs creak.

"Me—"

Eleonora smiled.

"Gravity control, baby."

She turned her wrist slightly.

His body was ripped away from the ceiling and hurled toward the center of the hall, only to stop in midair before hitting the floor.

"I know how many ants are walking inside this castle."

The werewolf bared his teeth.

"Damn vamp—"

Eleonora closed her hand.

He exploded.

Both of the intruder’s arms and legs ruptured almost simultaneously.

There was no clean cut.

The gravitational pressure crushed muscle, bone, and joints so brutally that his limbs were destroyed from the shoulders and hips downward.

"AAAAAAARGH!"

The scream tore through the hall.

Several servants stopped in horror.

Violet remained staring, still trying to process how a werewolf had managed to get through every external defense.

The intruder dropped a few centimeters, but Eleonora kept his torso suspended.

Blood should have sprayed everywhere.

It did not.

The man realized that even through the pain.

The destroyed ends of his blood vessels were being compressed by an invisible force.

Not a single drop could escape.

Eleonora walked calmly until she stood in front of him.

The smile on her face widened.

"Don’t worry, baby."

The werewolf breathed desperately, his face completely white.

Eleonora raised one finger and lightly touched his cheek.

"You’re not going to die."

That should have been reassuring.

It was not.

Her smile became truly demonic.

"I’ll make sure not a single drop of blood leaves your vessels."

Gravity tightened around what remained of his limbs.

The werewolf screamed again.

Eleonora leaned closer.

"Until you tell me exactly what you’re doing here."

Violet looked at the intruder.

Then at Eleonora.

Then at the destroyed hall.

She took a deep breath.

"Great."

Eleonora turned her head.

"Great?"

Violet picked up the clipboard from the floor.

"Now, on top of the banquet, I have an infiltrated werewolf, blood on the ceiling, and four limbs scattered across my main hall."

Eleonora looked around.

"Technically, the blood didn’t fall."

Violet stared at her.

Eleonora smiled.

"I helped."

Violet squeezed the clipboard so hard she nearly snapped the wood.

"Take that thing to the interrogation room before I kill both of you."

Eleonora looked back at the werewolf.

"You heard her, baby?"

He went even paler.

She dragged his body through the air as if carrying luggage.

"Let’s talk."

And at that moment, while the Royal Palace sealed every exit and thousands of guards began searching for any other intruders, one thing became clear.

The theft attempt had failed.

But no one yet knew exactly what that werewolf had come to steal.