Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Lady Lydia's chambers had always been a sanctuary of sorts—filled with rare books, delicate glass instruments for her alchemical work, and the kind of comfortable chaos that spoke of an active mind. But as I entered at her invitation, something felt different. The books were organized too neatly, the instruments arranged with military precision rather than scholarly convenience.
"Seraphina," she greeted me with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I was wondering when you'd come to see me. It's been days since we've had a proper conversation."
"The wedding preparations have been consuming." I settled into the chair she indicated, noting how she positioned herself with clear sightlines to both the door and the window. "But I wanted to speak with you about something important."
"Oh? More important than marrying Prince Aldric in three days?"
There was something sharp in her tone, an edge I'd never heard before when she spoke of my betrothal.
Master Dorian's suspicions about her strange behavior seemed increasingly justified.
"Perhaps. Lydia, how long have we been friends?"
"Since we were children. Why do you ask?"
"Because I need to know if I can trust you with something that could endanger both our lives."
She set down the teacup she'd been holding, her full attention now focused on me. "That's quite a statement. What kind of danger are we discussing?"
"The kind that involves magical workings powerful enough to kill everyone involved, political conspiracies that extend beyond our kingdom, and the possibility that people we've trusted our entire lives are not who they appear to be."
For a moment, her mask slipped entirely. I saw fear, calculation, and something that might have been relief crossed her features before she regained her composure.
"That's specific. And terrifying. What exactly are you involved in, Seraphina?"
"Before I answer that, I need you to answer something for me. Have you noticed anything unusual about the wedding preparations? Anything that doesn't seem quite right?"
She was quiet for a long moment, clearly weighing her response. "Define unusual."
"Extra guards who don't report through normal channels. Conversations that stop when you enter a room. Requests for information about magical capabilities that seem unrelated to wedding security."
"You've noticed that too." The words came out in a rush, as if she'd been holding them back for days.
"Seraphina, I've been trying to find a way to talk to you about this without sounding paranoid or disloyal."
"Talk to me about what?"
"Someone's been asking questions about you. Not just casual curiosity—detailed questions about your combat training, your magical abilities, your emotional attachments." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And they're not asking these questions through official channels."
The confirmation of my suspicions brought both relief and increased urgency. If Lydia had noticed the cult's preparations, she might be more receptive to the truth than I'd hoped.
"Who's been asking these questions?"
"That's the problem—I can't identify the source. The inquiries come through intermediaries, people who claim to be acting on behalf of wedding security or diplomatic protocols. But when I try to trace the requests back to their origin,"
"They disappear into a bureaucratic maze."
"Exactly. And Seraphina, some of the questions they're asking—they're the kind of information you'd need if you were planning to use someone in a magical working against their will."
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. If the cult was already gathering information for their ritual, our timeline might be even shorter than we'd calculated.
"Lydia, what I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. If you repeat it to anyone, anyone at all, people will die. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"The marriage contract contains provisions that would allow my husband's family to use my magical abilities for purposes that were not disclosed during negotiations. The wedding ceremony itself has been modified to include binding elements that would give them access to my power."
Her face went pale. "That's essentially magical slavery."
"It's worse than that. The power they're trying to access isn't just mine—it's connected to every soul that's died violently in our family's service over the past century. They're planning to use those bound spirits for purposes that would threaten both our kingdoms."
"The bound souls," she whispered. "Your mother ."
"Among others. Lydia, I'm planning to stop them, but it requires a magical working that's extremely dangerous. I need people I can trust absolutely, people who are willing to risk their lives to prevent something much worse from happening."
She stood abruptly, beginning to pace as she processed the implications. "How dangerous are we talking about?"
"The danger was that everyone involved might die, but if we don't try, hundreds of innocent people definitely will."
"And you want me to help."
"I want you to consider it. But Lydia, if you agree to this, there's no backing out. The commitment has to be absolute."
She stopped pacing, turning to face me with an expression I'd never seen before—fierce determination mixed with genuine fear.
"What exactly would you need me to do?"
"Participate in a ritual that would free all the bound souls and destroy the magical network the cult has been building. It requires seven people, and each participant has to swear a blood oath of commitment."
"A blood oath." She touched her throat reflexively. "Seraphina, that's not just commitment—that's magical binding. If I swear that oath and then try to betray you, the magic itself would kill me."
"Yes. Which is why I need to know, right now, whether you're prepared to make that level of commitment."
The silence stretched between us, filled with the weight of years of friendship and the gravity of the choice I was asking her to make.
"If I refuse?"
"Then we find another way, with other people. But Lydia, I need to know where you stand. The questions people have been asking about me—they suggest the cult already suspects I might resist their plans. We may not have much time left."
She moved to the window, staring out at the courtyard where wedding preparations continued their elaborate dance of celebration and deception.
"Three days until the ceremony."
"Three days until they try to bind me permanently to their cause. And if they succeed, every person with royal blood in the known world becomes their property."
When she turned back to me, her expression had settled into the kind of calm resolution I'd seen on battlefields.
"Show me the ritual."
I'd hoped she would agree, but hearing the words still brought a surge of relief and terror in equal measure. Another ally meant better chances of success, but it also meant another friend I might lose to the dangers we were courting.
"I don't have the materials with me, but I can arrange for you to review them tonight. Lydia, once you see the full scope of what we're attempting, you'll understand why the blood oath is necessary."
"Because the magical energies involved would drive anyone with divided loyalties insane."
Her immediate understanding of the implications suggested she'd been thinking about magical workings of this magnitude. Either she was more advanced in her studies than I'd realized, or she'd been researching solutions to the same problems that had been occupying my attention.
"Among other reasons. But yes, that's part of it."
"Who else is involved?"
"Prince Aldric has already sworn the oath. We need four more participants, and we have several candidates under consideration."
"Prince Aldric?" Her surprise was genuine. "But he's the son of the man who's orchestrating this conspiracy."
"Which is exactly why his commitment is so valuable. He understands their methods and capabilities better than anyone else we could recruit."
She nodded slowly, clearly working through the strategic implications. "And if his father discovers his involvement?"
"Then Prince Aldric will likely be killed as a traitor, and we'll lose one of our most knowledgeable allies.
But Lydia, that's the kind of risk everyone involved is accepting."
"Including you."
"Especially me. I'm the primary target of their plans, which makes me the most valuable participant in the counter-ritual. If something goes wrong, I'm the most likely to die."
The stark honesty seemed to convince her that I wasn't asking her to accept risks I wasn't prepared to face myself.
"Tonight, then. Show me the ritual, and I'll give you my answer."
"Fair enough. But Lydia, whatever you decide, the knowledge of what we're planning has to remain secret. Even if you choose not to participate, you cannot reveal our intentions to anyone."
"I understand. And Seraphina? Thank you for trusting me with this. I know it wasn't an easy decision."
As I prepared to leave, she asked one final question that cut straight to the heart of my fears.
"Are you certain this ritual will work? Because if it fails, we're not just risking our own lives—we're potentially making the situation worse by removing ourselves as obstacles to their plans."
"I'm certain it's our best chance of stopping them. Whether that's good enough ." I paused at the door. "I suppose we'll find out."
Walking back through the corridors toward my chambers, I reflected on how much had changed in just a few days. The girl who'd executed traitors at dawn was making alliances with former enemies and asking friends to risk their souls for a cause that might be doomed from the start.
But as I felt the familiar weight of the Mourning Blade at my side and remembered my mother's spirit urging me toward this path, I knew we were moving in the right direction. Whether it would be enough remained to be seen, but at least we were fighting back.
Two more days until the wedding. Four more allies to recruit. And one ritual that would either save everything or destroy it all. The war for our souls had begun.