Chapter 100: A Tense Lockdown

The announcement struck the ballroom like a thunderclap. Stunned silence fractured into a deafening roar of noble murmurs.

Dukes, ambassadors, and courtiers from the four kingdoms traded sharp, suspicious glances, already scenting blood in the water. It was as if they had expected something like this was bound to happen, but not so soon.

“Stolen?” a highborn lady whispered to another’s ear. “On the night of his elevation? Is the Marquis cursed, or is His Majesty testing his worthiness? How can something so important go missing?!”

Beside the dais, Catherine stared in stunned disbelief, while Madeline pressed a gloved hand to her mouth to hide her cruel, gloating smile. To Madeline,this was just another stroke of luck. She had been complaining about those two and then this happened.

Let us see how proud you remain now, Lady Penelope.

Kneeling on the cold marble, Penelope felt a chill run down her spine. The seal was missing? She glanced at Vincent, catching the lethal, dangerous glint in his grey eyes. He didn’t look as panicked as she was, but she was quite certain there were a lot of things running through his mind at the current moment.

Along the perimeter, Elias appeared thoroughly bewildered. At the far end of the hall, Duke Lucian remained impeccably unbothered. Leaning casually against the refreshment table, he refilled his goblet with rich wine and turned to observe the madness, silently accepting the fact that he would not be escaping to the comfort of his bedchambers for many hours to come.

The Chancellor leaned near the high throne, taking in the Emperor’s low, razor-edged instructions before stepping back to the edge of the dais.

“By royal decree, all guests shall remain within the ballroom until the Imperial Seal is retrieved!” the Chancellor boomed, sweeping a heavy silence over the nobles. “Whoever has dared to perpetrate this treason ought to know the crown shows no mercy to traitors.”

The gathered nobles began to murmur nervously amongst themselves. The theft of the Imperial Seal was an unforgivable offense— an emblem so absolute that whoever held it effectively possessed the terrifying authority to validate state decrees under the Emperor’s divine name.

Having risen from the marble floor, Penelope felt a suffocating dread settle over her.

“Vincent—” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“It will be fine,” he assured her, his voice a cool, unshakable anchor as he looked down at her. “Remain here.”

Penelope offered a small, hesitant nod. Vincent turned and glided toward the high throne, executing a flawless, sweeping bow before the sovereign of the realm.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Vincent spoke, his voice steady despite the tension in his room. “I respectfully request leave to oversee the search alongside the Imperial Guard.”

“No, Vincent,” the Emperor cut in sharply, his dark eyes cold. “This is the night of your ducal elevation, and you shall not abandon your own feast. There is no need for that. Whoever has committed this sacrilege will be caught and executed before the hour ends.”

“I ask for the sake of efficiency, Your Imperial Majesty,” Vincent replied smoothly, unbothered by the harsh refusal. “The West Wing corridors are guarded by my personal battalion. Allowing me to coordinate with my men directly will resolve this breach before scandal can tarnish the Crown’s hospitality.”

The Emperor’s brows furrowed, on the verge of a second denial, when his court advisor suddenly leaned forward. “Your Imperial Majesty, consider the Marquis’s record,” the advisor murmured discreetly. “Permit him to handle the matter. None in this hall possesses a greater interest in capturing the traitor than the man whose elevation has been ruined.”

The Emperor simply studied the young commander with a calculating gaze, weighing his authority before offering a rigid nod. “Go. But see to it that you return the moment the perimeter is secured.”

“As you command, Your Imperial Majesty.”

Vincent turned on his heel, sweeping back down the steps toward Penelope. Elias rushed over to join them as he awaited His Lordship’s orders. But Vincent caught Penelope’s hand and guided her firmly to Elias’s side.

“Stay with Penelope,” he instructed in a low, absolute whisper. “Remain within the hall and do not wander under any circumstances.”

“But where are you going?” Penelope immediately seized his forearm before he could retreat, shaking her head in protest. “Vincent, stay here with us! Or at least take Elias with you. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself here.”

“I know you are,” Vincent murmured softly, his eyes softening for a fleeting second. “However, keeping Elias at your side ensures both your safety and my piece of mind. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

Before she could press him, he gently disengaged her grip. Penelope could only watch as the burgundy velvet coat snapped behind him, his imposing figure disappearing through the shadowed entrance as the guards sealed the heavy oak doors behind him.

“His Lordship will return shortly,” Elias assured her, offering a reassuring, steady presence. “Allow me to escort you to a seat, My Lady.”

“I cannot sit, Elias,” Penelope murmured, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. “A dark feeling has settled over my chest. Something is horribly wrong.”

“I am certain most of the hall feels the same tension, My Lady,” Elias replied softly, his sharp eyes continuing to sweep the surrounding nobles. “Yet letting distress consume you will not aid His Lordship. Come, let us find a quiet corner.”

With a heavy, resigned sigh, Penelope finally relented, following Elias deeper into the murmuring sea of nobles.

A short distance away, Lady Catherine stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the heavy double doors Vincent had departed through. A shadow of profound worry crossed her brow. “I only hope whoever committed this terrible crime is caught quickly.”

“Whoever did it is an absolute fool,” Madeline declared, crossing her arms with a disdainful hum. “This is the heart of the empire. They will never escape with the Imperial Seal. They are just gambling with their lives. Though, to be fair, Lord Vincent has accumulated far more enemies than friends over the years.”

Catherine barely heard Madeline’s snide commentary, her mind entirely fixed on the man who had just walked into danger.

“In times of problems like this, a man in Vincent’s position needs someone who truly understands the weight of his burdens,” she murmured, her tone laced with quiet, longing pride. “Someone who knows how to navigate imperial politics, soothe the Emperor’s temper, and hold the court together while he restores order.”

Madeline caught the look and let out a quiet, melodic laugh behind her laced fan. “Precisely, Cathy. A true Duchess would be taking command of the room right now.”

Those words seemed to have given Catherine an idea, because she suddenly straightened her spine, her posture transforming into the very picture of highborn Majesty.

Ignoring Madeline’s approving smirk, she glided across the marble floor. She intentionally swept past Penelope and Elias, her silk skirts swishing softly, casting a subtle, condescending look down at Penelope before heading straight for the Imperial altar.

Halting before the high throne, Catherine executed an immaculate, sweeping curtsy before the sovereign of the four kingdoms.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Catherine began, her voice a melodious, tranquil rhythm that cut through the anxious murmurs of the court. “Forgive my intrusion, but as a daughter of the empire, I cannot sit idly while tension grip your honored guests. The ambassadors of the Western Kingdom seem particularly alarmed by the sudden lockdown. If Your Imperial Majesty permits, I shall gladly attend to them personally, reassuring them of the Crown’s supreme authority and keeping order in the hall.”

The Emperor, weary from the sudden crisis, surveyed Catherine with a measuring look. He looked as though he was about to refuse changing his mind at the last minute, giving a rare, approving nod.

“A prudent and noble mind, Lady Catherine,” he praised. “House Vane continues to prove its worth to the realm. Proceed as you see fit.”

“Your Majesty honors me,” Catherine murmured, bowing deeply before stepping down from the dais. As she passed Penelope once more, she held her head high, a faint, proud smile gracing her lips.

Elias’s jaw tightened as he watched Catherine march toward the foreign delegates. “She merely seeks the Emperor’s favor, My Lady. Pay her no mind.”

Penelope watched in silence as Catherine smoothly commanded the undivided attention of two high-ranking dukes, Duke Lucian trailing lazily behind her.

The smile Catherine offered them was so effortlessly warm, so flawlessly practiced in its grace. Seeing the powerful lords bow to her influence brought a quiet pang to Penelope’s chest. Would she ever be capable of commanding such sway for Vincent, or was high-society devotion something reserved strictly for those born to it?

“Quite the performance, don’t you agree?”

The smooth, velvety voice purred from mere inches away, striking Penelope with such abrupt force that a breathless gasp slipped past her lips. Elias reacted in a heartbeat—his arm barring her path as he pivoted into a stance of lethal guard, shielding her completely as both their eyes darted to the shadow beside the settee.

A tall figure detached himself from the darkened alcove, stepping into the golden radiance of the crystal chandeliers.

He was, without a doubt, the most exquisite man she had ever laid eyes upon, a lethal, breathtaking beauty. He possessed features so flawless and sharply etched he looked less like a man and more like a dark, marble deity brought to life. Soft, jet-black hair fell around a high-boned face, framing eyes of a striking, unnatural hue that gleamed with cold intelligence.

A lazy, devastatingly handsome smile curled his lips as he raised a single, relaxed hand to soothe Elias’s immediate hostility.

“Pardon me,” he murmured, his tone dripping with polished, aristocratic charm. “Did I happen to terrify you?”