Patricia and Steven locked eyes, tension crackling in the silence between them. Neither spoke, but both minds raced in opposite storms.
'What the hell is she doing here? Why is she looking at me like that? Does she recognize me? This is bad…'
Steven's jaw clenched as he tried to read her expression.
'That voice… I've heard it before. But where? I've never seen him, yet something about it feels... so oddly familiar.'
Patricia narrowed her gaze ever so slightly.
Their wordless standoff was broken when Wilby cleared his throat, loud and intentional.
"Steven," he snapped, "how many times have I told you to show proper manners to our guests? Staring at someone like that is very rude, son."
Steven jerked his eyes away from Patricia, flinching slightly under his father's glare.
"Sorry, Dad," he mumbled.
Wilby sighed and turned toward Patricia, attempting to smooth the tension.
"My apologies, Patricia. My son tends to be… ill-mannered from time to time. I promise it won't happen again."
Patricia offered a polite smile.
"It's alright, Mr. Wilby. I understand. There is no problem at all."
She turned slightly toward Steven, her tone diplomatic but cool.
"It's nice to meet you, Steven. Anyway, I should be heading out. Thank you again, Mr. Wilby. I look forward to working with you—and seeing you at the derby races."
Wilby rose from behind his desk.
"Don't worry—I'll be there cheering you on. I've no doubt it'll be a spectacular event. And with Saccoth training you, you're practically destined for the winner's circle."
"Thank you. I really appreciate the support." Patricia offered a final nod. "Well then… goodbye, Steven."
Steven didn't respond immediately. His gaze was fixed—not on her, but on the golden scroll in her hand.
He recognized it instantly.
He'd seen it before, a few years ago, whilst snooping through his father's office. The scroll, the portrait of that strange woman with the golden crown… He hadn't known what it meant then.
But now, seeing Patricia holding it—remembering the eerie resemblance between her and the woman in the portrait—his stomach churned.
'This isn't a coincidence. There's so much more here than what meets the eye… and I'm going to find out what it is.'
Patricia caught his stare. The hairs on her forearm prickled, warning her of something... unnatural, something dangerous. She calmly slipped the scroll into her jacket pocket and turned toward the door.
Steven quickly averted his gaze and instead faced Wilby, who now shot him a look thick with quiet disappointment. He braced himself...he knew a lecture was coming. But honestly? He didn't care.
As long as Wilby never discovered his shady secrets… he'd survive.
Steven watched from the window as his father escorted Patricia outside. They exchanged farewells beside her car, Wilby briefly placing a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of gentlemanly politeness.
Then—Steven's phone buzzed.
A message blinked onto the screen:
'The girl is dead. She was flushed into the lake before the cops stormed the place.'
Steven stared at the words, letting them settle into his chest like ice water.
Then he glanced back outside.
Patricia had paused near her car, as though sensing the weight of his stare. Her head turned slowly. Their eyes met again—hers sharp, calm, unreadable.
'That's not the face of someone who received news about the death of their best friend,' Steven thought. 'She's too calm, composed… too still. Something's off here.'
Patricia turned away, got into her car, and drove off without another glance.
Steven reached for his phone, his tone low and cold as he made the call.
"I need you to look into something…"
.....
"Wow!! I still can't wrap my head around this... she looks exactly like you." Nicole held the golden portrait in her lap, eyes wide. "It's like staring into a mirror that's been dipped in gold and history."
"I know, right?" Patricia muttered, arms folded. "It's really… creepy."
"Creepy?" Nicole shot her a glare filled with disbelief.
"Patricia Milton, I swear—if I weren't glued to this hospital bed with half my body stitched together, I'd slap that ridiculous word right out of your mouth! How can you call being related to royalty creepy? This woman was a queen, Patricia! Not just any queen—a queen of one of the world's most powerful kingdoms!" She flailed her good arm dramatically. "And you call that creepy? Unbelievable."
Patricia laughed, holding up her hands in surrender.
"Okay! Okay. Maybe creepy was the wrong word. But still… it's unnerving. I mean, I've always known our family line was… complicated. But seeing someone who looks exactly like me—same eyes, same lips—and knowing her history was tied to some royal love scandal? It gives me the hibby-jibbies."
Nicole softened, letting out a sigh.
"I get it, Patty. No one wants to find out their great-great-something caused an execution with a love affair. But here's what bugs me—why did your dad leave that scroll for you? What does your ancestry have to do with all the other chaos we're knee-deep in? It doesn't connect… yet."
Patricia fell into thought, pulling her golden necklace from beneath her jacket. The horse-shaped key glinted under the hospital's dim lights.
She stared at it for a moment—then shifted her gaze to the portrait again.
Her eyes narrowed.
There—on the crown worn by Lady Rose.
A golden horse.
Identical in shape to the key hanging from Patricia's neck.
Her breath caught.
"I got it!!"
Nicole flinched to the loud shout. "Whoa! Got what?"
Patricia's voice surged with excitement.
"Lady Rose… she's the next clue!"
Before Nicole could respond, a calm new voice cut through the room:
"The next clue to what, exactly?"
Both women turned toward the voice and saw Isaac and Davis strolling into the room, followed closely by Alisha and Zachariah.
Before Patricia could respond, everyone's gaze landed on the golden portrait laid out on Nicole's hospital bed.
Alisha darted forward, snatching it up with wide eyes.
She stared at the image, then at Patricia—then back again.
"Patricia… who is this? And why does she look like you?"
Zachariah strode over, lifting it from her hands with a furrowed brow.
"Alisha's right. This woman looks exactly like you. Who is she?" He handed the portrait to Isaac and Davis, who exchanged a curious look.
"That's Queen Adriana Wiltshire of Arlene," Patricia replied calmly. "Now known as the country of Luz."
Alisha nearly choked.
"You mean… the Queen of Arlene? As in THE ARLENE—one of the most powerful kingdoms in history? That Arlene?"
"Mmmhmm," Patricia nodded, lips twitching at their shock. "That's the one."
Alisha's jaw dropped in disbelief. Isaac raised an eyebrow, and even Davis leaned in a little closer.
"So... wait," Alisha breathed, "you're saying we're related to royalty?"
"I guess so," Patricia said with a shrug.
Zach snapped his fingers. "No guessing, Patricia! Look at her. That woman could be your twin. You're definitely related."
Isaac stepped forward. "Indeed. But where did you get the portrait? And more importantly—what does she have to do with our next move?"
Patricia eased into the chair beside Nicole's bed, her voice measured.
"I visited Governor Wilby today. It was part of the plan—bring him into the loop for the Club Detonation phase. But let's just say… I found a lot more than I bargained for."
She met each of their eyes before continuing.
"It turns out, Wilby was close friends with my father. They go way back. And that opened up a lot of buried history."
She turned to Alisha and Zach. "Do you two remember the black stallion painting that hung in Dad's study? The one he treasured above all the others?"
Zach frowned. "Yeah… but those thugs who threw us out took it. We never saw it again."
"Well, I did," Patricia said. "A near-identical copy hangs in Wilby's home. He told me only two of those paintings exist. He won the second one in a silly bet with Dad. Said they were family heirlooms—passed down from our ancestor, Daniel Plumberry. A legendary painter from 650 years ago."
Isaac raised a brow, intrigued. "Plumberry… I've heard that name in old military records. Royal commissions. He was a big deal. Known far and wide for his magnificent artistry."
"Exactly," Patricia nodded. "Talented, renowned, and wealthy. But his story ended in tragedy. A jealous king had him executed because his queen...fell in love with him. Because of his art, his soul, everything. She couldn't hide it, and the king ordered Plumberry's beheading."
She looked to the portrait, still held gently in Davis's hands.
"That," she said softly, "is one of Plumberry's final creations. Queen Adriana Wiltshire. 'Lady Rose.' The woman who loved him… and the reason for his death."
A hush fell over the room.
No one moved.
Even Nicole was speechless.
The weight of Patricia's legacy hung in the air.....golden and yet tragic. Intriguing and yet sorrowful.
"So… how exactly are we related to them?" Alisha asked softly, still staring at the portrait.
"I'm not sure yet, Ali," Patricia replied. "But I plan to find out."
She pulled the golden horse-shaped key from around her neck and held it up.
"I noticed the crest on Queen Adriana's crown—it's identical to this. Same horse, same shape. It's not random. That scroll was meant to lead me somewhere deeper."
She exhaled.
"And that somewhere… is the great City of Rose. That's where 'Lady Rose'—Queen Adriana—was born. History says she was known for her brilliance, bravery, and tactical genius. She helped end the Great War of Thirst 630 years ago, when the world was thrown into chaos by a mysterious drought. But after today…" Patricia looked around the room, her voice resolute.
"I think there's much more to her story. And I'm going to uncover it."
"I think you mean, I'm going to uncover it."
All eyes turned to Nicole, propped up in her bed, defiant spark reignited.
Patricia's brows drew together. "Nicole… you nearly died because of me. You need to rest. I can handle this..for now..until you're fully recovered."
Isaac nodded. "And you need to lie low. We still don't know who tried to kill you. If they find out you're alive, it could blow back hard."
Nicole rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Isn't that a good thing? I could totally be the ghost detective lawyer. Think about it—I'm legally dead, so no one would expect me snooping around. I can gather evidence like some invisible ninja. No danger. Just vibes."
"Nicole, please. That only works in action comedies," Alisha said, smirking. "This is real life. One slip, and you're dead. Twice! And this time—for real."
The room erupted in laughter.
Nicole pouted, then raised her fists with mock fierceness.
"Fine! But don't you dare count me out just because I'm temporarily stitched up. I'll be back on my feet in no time—and when I am, I'll make those bastards wish I'd stayed dead. I will show them hell like never before."
She began jabbing the air with exaggerated boxing moves.
Everyone burst out laughing again.
But as the laughter echoed across the room, Davis's eyes narrowed. A shadow flickered just beyond the door.
He subtly nudged Isaac and motioned toward it.
Isaac caught it too. They exchanged a look—alert, silent.
The rest of the group noticed the shift, but before anyone could ask, Isaac held a finger to his lips. Quiet.
Both men crept toward the door, counted down in their heads… then yanked it open.
A startled figure stumbled forward with a shout. Davis moved fast, twisting the man's arms behind his back and slamming him to the wall.
"Who are you?! What do you want?!" Davis barked.
"Aaaah! Damn you! Let me go!" the man yelled, thrashing.
"No! Not until you tell me who you are and what you were doing lurking outside this door!"
The stranger twisted in his grip, furious.
"I think I should be the one asking that! Who the hell are you?! And what are you doing in my sister's room?! Let me go right now or I swear I'll have you arrested for assaulting a lieutenant in Luz's Special Forces!"
Nicole gasped.
"Simeon!!"
Davis immediately released his hold, wide-eyed as the man spun around, rubbing his shoulder.
Simeon towered over him—a tall, broad-shouldered powerhouse in a fitted grey t-shirt, jeans, and scuffed sneakers. Short wavy brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a stern scowl that bore a clear resemblance to his hooligan.
There was no mistaking it.
Nicole's big brother had arrived.
Davis felt a cold sweat crawl down his spine.
Nicole's very protective big brother.
The look on Simeon's face said one thing very, very clearly: 'You're in trouble'.
Davis swallowed hard.
'Oh boy… this can't be good.'