Iskara stands in the grand hall of House Drazhal because her parents dragged her home during the Academy break, her body still aching from the training that never ends since Azrakel fell. Maelthra Drazhal paces before the throne while Kaedor sits rigid with arms crossed, their stares heavy with blame since Azrakel's death reached them days ago. She knows they expect her to have restrained him and forced him to see reason, yet the memory of his corrupted rage haunts her and she wonders how she could have stopped him alone.
"You let your brother die at the hands of a thief," Queen Matriarch Maelthra says as she stops pacing and turns to face Iskara directly. "Azrakel betrayed us all when he joined that cult, yet you should have restrained him and forced him to see reason instead of standing by while a human with stolen Infernal powers ended him."
Iskara clenches her fists but keeps her voice steady because arguing now would only worsen the shame, and she thinks how was she supposed to do that when Azrakel had sunk so deep into Corruption that his veins ran black and his eyes burned with Asmodeus's fire.
"Azrakel chose his path and fought us all in the Tomb of Father, Mother," she replies as regret twists in her chest. "I struck him with Boon Transfer to weaken him for the team, yet Jacob Cloud finished the fight because the moment demanded it and I couldn't hold Azrakel back alone since the Corruption had made him too powerful."
King Consort Kaedor leans forward from the throne and his eyes narrow with disappointment that cuts deeper than any blade.
"You brought shame on House Drazhal because you failed to restrain him yourself and make him see reason before it came to death. Azrakel was your blood even if he turned traitor, and you let an outsider steal that duty while a pretender delivered the end. That human mocks our heritage since he wields powers he never earned, yet you requested we grant him exemption from the hunt and we regret honoring that plea now because look at what it cost us."
Iskara meets their gazes without flinching although she thinks again how was she supposed to make Azrakel see reason when he snarled at her like a beast and swung his warhammer with violet fire that scorched the ground.
"I fought Azrakel with everything I had and weakened him so that we could win," she says as anger simmers beneath her calm. "Jacob's strike came because Azrakel was beyond restraint or reason, not because I shirked my role, and the exemption was right then since he saved us all and he had already saved my life!"
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"Behave yourself, Iskara Drazhal! You shall speak to your Royal Mother with respect or we'll deliver the appropriate punishment for your breath of etiquette!" Queen Matriarch Maelthra thunders "We spared Jacob Cloud at your word since you claimed he deserved mercy for his role in you perfecting the control over Lucifer's Veins, yet Azrakel's death stains our name because a pretender delivered it instead of you restraining him to bring him back. We question your judgment now since this weakness invites rivals to test us and you should have held him until his senses returned."
Iskara bites her tongue because she knows defiance will make her parents tighten their control, and she bows deeper while their words cut into her. Queen Matriarch Maelthra's eyes flash with infernal fire that matches the training that made her and Azrakel bled for years.
"Enough of your excuses, daughter," her father says, and he rises from the throne because the King Consort rarely stirs without purpose, and his voice echoes off the hall's walls. "We are willing to revoke the exemption we granted that human thief because your plea blinded us to the insult he represents and because Azrakel's blood demands retribution that you failed to deliver. You will return to the Academy as our eyes on Jacob Cloud, and you monitor him closely and report every whisper of his stolen power back to us or forfeit your claim to Lucifer's Veins entirely. We want to know whether there's anything we can claim from him."
Queen Matriarch Maelthra nods because she savors the weight of the command. Iskara straightens her back because the threat strikes at her core, where the Veins pulse with inherited fire that Jacob helped her tame, yet now that same power dangles as a prize she could lose, and she feels the split widen between the duty that forged her and Jacob.
She leaves the throne because silence will do more than begging. The corridor feels narrow as the yards where the Infernals stole her childhood. They taught her glory and pain, and they left no room for real bonds. Azrakel fell, and the loneliness grew. Jacob cut through it because he somehow understood her immediately, and he was the reason why they had not succumbed to Azrakel.
She enters her room which a choice standing in front of her. If she watches Jacob, her house may use it to hunt him, and if she stays silent, they may call her a traitor. If she loses her Rainbow Skill, she loses everything she's worked so hard for, and if she defies her house, she could start a war.
Iskara sits on the bed and looks at the scars that made her strong and hollow.
Duty ties her to a dead dream, and Jacob…
She doesn't know where putting her fate in Jacob's hands would bring her.
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