As night enveloped the kingdom, Duchess Theon and Ember emerged onto the cobblestone streets. Moonlight danced atop the dew-kissed stones, illuminating their path. The air was crisp, and every breath left a trail of misty vapor that hung in the air. With determined hands, they heaved bag after bag into their carriage, each filled with beautiful ballgowns.

Duchess Theon slowly stepped up on the sidewalk, her feet dragging against the ground as she anxiously searched for Maia. Her gaze darted from one end of the street to the other, but no sign of her stepdaughter could be found. She stopped, her heart sinking with dread, and a heavy weight settled in her stomach at the realization that she hadn’t seen Maia all day long. She could feel the burden of her ambition tapping on her shoulders as if warning her that something wasn’t right.

Dante and Cato walked side by side, their heavy cloaks billowing around them like a gathering storm as they surveyed the great stone walls surrounding the kingdom. They monitored the outposts, gauging the safety of their people as banners of every house flew proudly in the night air. Dante’s silver eyes landed on Duchess Theon outside the carriage, and he marched towards her with purposeful steps. His metal knight boots thudded against the cobblestone road, sending reverberations that seemed to shake the night. “Your Grace,” Dante began carefully, his voice low and measured, “I appreciate your proposal, but—”

“Where is Maia?” Duchess Theon interrupted. Her voice trembled, and her eyes widened as she looked past him, silently praying to see her stepdaughter’s face among the shadows.

His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at Cato, and his jaw clenched. He swallowed and cleared his throat before speaking in a low voice, “She has yet to return?” Anxiety was evident on his face as he asked the question.

“No,” Duchess Theon’s face hardened like a frozen lake, but her eyes betrayed the terror that crept under her skin. “Are you telling me she’s not with you?!” she said through gritted teeth, each word laced with sharpness.

Dante swallowed hard, realizing the gravity of Maia’s disappearance. His heart pounded in his chest as he imagined what might have befallen her. “No, she’s not,” Dante said, his voice betraying a hint of frustration.

The Duchess’s eyes flashed with fear, her carefully constructed facade crumbling under the pressure, “I left her in your care!” she yelled, her jaw clenched as her cheeks burned with rage. “You find her right now, you lowly excuse for a human being, or else!”

The air seemed to crackle with tension as Dante’s gaze clashed with Duchess Theon’s. His fair skin was taut over sharp cheekbones as his jaw tightened in an effort to contain his seething rage. His thoughts were a tangled mess as Maia’s plight weighed heavily on him. With her haughty expression and venomous words, the very sight of the Duchess ignited a fire within him that threatened to consume all rational thought. His blood boiled as he watched this woman, who held so little regard for him despite the countless sacrifices he had made for the kingdom, look down her nose at him.

The corners of Dante’s mouth twitched upwards into a mirthless chuckle. He could almost hear Maia scolding him in his head for speaking up. Perhaps she was right. He was prideful. But there was no way he could let the Duchess get away with her hypocrisy. Taking a menacing step towards her, he allowed his gaze to drift across her heavily jeweled necklace, calculated eyes, and tightly pursed, painted lips. “Are you truly upset that she’s missing,” he asked quietly, “or upset because you know that if anything happens to her, you’ll lose her money?”

Duchess Theon’s jaw dropped, and her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as Dante spoke. He waved his hand dismissively, not bothering to spare her even the slightest glance. “Don’t worry, I’ll find your money bags,” he sneered, “I mean Maia.”

As they turned away from the shocked Duchess, Cato’s brow furrowed with worry. He glanced hesitantly at Dante, who still looked resolute in his position, and asked, “Don’t you think you were a tad harsh?”

Dante marched steadily forward, his jaw set as if he were walking into battle. He enunciated each word with a cold precision as he responded. “No, I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t.” Cato flashed a mischievous grin and raised an eyebrow as he asked, “What are your orders?”

“Spread the word among our knights…quietly,” he said firmly. “We need all hands on deck if we’re going to find Maia. Time is of the essence.”

Cato lifted his chin in acknowledgment and began issuing orders in a low, urgent voice. His men left the huddle one by one, hustling off in different directions. Dante watched them go, feeling the weight of duty pressing down on him like a millstone.

Under the cover of night, Dante’s steely gaze cut through the darkness like a sharp blade, searching for any sign of Maia amid the labyrinth of shadowed streets. The cool breeze tousled his raven hair as he tried to maintain his composure. Time seemed to blur as he searched every nook and cranny of the city, his heart pounding in his chest. Fear and desperation mingled inside him, sending adrenaline coursing through his veins with a sense of urgency that propelled him onward.

“Where could she be?” Dante’s heart raced as he wracked his mind for any clue that would lead him to Maia, and his brow furrowed as he considered every possibility, refusing to give up hope. He knew what he had to do; no matter the cost, he would find and bring her back safely.

Dante arrived at a ramshackle inn, the kind of place that seldom welcomed law-abiding citizens. He dismounted his horse and stepped inside to find a room full of hustlers and cutthroats, each giving him a suspicious once-over. Dante approached the barkeep and asked for information about Maia’s whereabouts. The barkeep shook his head, hanging on to his innocence, but eventually conceded that she had been there recently, paying off someone who promised to lead her through the kingdom’s western borderlands. Dante gritted his teeth as he listened. As the Grand Cross, he knew too well the perils that awaited travelers on unmarked roads. Before the barkeep could finish his sentence, Dante was out the door, galloping across the castle grounds towards the looming forest.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, blaming himself for letting Maia out of his sight. “I should have seen her home.” His chest tightened, but he couldn’t tell if it was out of annoyance or something else entirely. Was it possible that his feelings for the strong-willed woman went deeper than he realized? For now, he had to push such thoughts aside; all that mattered was finding her safe and sound.

Dante rode further into the thick forest, the moonlight shimmering through the trees, creating a tapestry of shadows on the ground. The silence was eerie and vast, punctuated only by the steady thud of his horse’s hooves and occasional cries from a nearby owl. “Maia,” he whispered in a hushed tone, feeling as though speaking her name could lead him to where she was. He hoped beyond hope that she was safe. “Please be okay.”

As he rode through the dense forest, his nose caught a whiff of burning wood, teasing his senses and beckoning him to investigate. He reined in his horse and dismounted, treading softly on damp earth to conceal his approach. The sounds of raucous laughter grew louder until he discovered a small camp of bandits. They were feasting around a fire as they drank wine and sang bawdy songs that burned his ears. His heart jolted when he saw Maia being dragged into one of the tents, her once elegant gown now torn and dirty. She struggled against her captors, her dark hair whipping like a wild thing in the fire’s flickering light.

Dante’s fists clenched tight at his sides as he gritted his teeth and stared ahead, feeling the heat of rage coursing through his veins. He knew he had to keep control to succeed in this mission. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, willing himself to remain calm. “Keep it together, Dante,” he told himself, taking a deep breath. “This is no time for recklessness.”

Dante crouched in the bush, squinting against the firelight as he watched the camp. He studied where they placed guards and how often they changed shifts, but they grew increasingly careless with their drinking. When the time was right, Dante moved quickly and silently like a wraith through the shadows, avoiding the patrolling bandits while keeping to the darkest parts of the camp. When he arrived at Maia’s tent, he stepped lightly over the threshold, “Maia,” he whispered urgently.

She slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes wide with surprise. When she saw him standing there, his silver eyes holding hers, the fear inside of her melted away, replaced with relief. Her voice quivered as she spoke tentatively, “Commander Cassius…what are you doing here?”