The music in the ballroom swelled around them in a gentle, flowing waltz as dancers spun in pairs across the dance floor.

At the center of it all, Noah and Princess Ines moved with grace.

Her silver-blue gown caught the soft gleam of the lights, and her gloved hand rested lightly in his. Her other hand brushed his shoulder as they turned, her eyes fixed on him.

"So tell me, Noah," she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear, "why does my father value you so much?"

Noah raised a brow, careful not to miss a step. "That's a strange question to ask during a dance, Your Highness."

She smiled faintly, her tone dry. "Then consider it a noble's small talk. You see, I know that look in my father's eyes. The one he gives people he thinks are… useful."

Noah's expression remained composed. "If the king doesn't want you to know, then I have no reason to tell you."

Ines' fingers tightened slightly in his. "So it's true then," she murmured, a humorless smile appearing on her face. "He's hiding something. From me."

They turned again, gliding across the floor as the other couples danced around them.

"It bothers me," she continued. "Because it sends a message to those in the know. That my father doesn't think I'm capable enough to understand. That he doesn't trust me to rule after him."

Noah studied her face. Her tone was calm, but the slight furrow of her brows and the tremor beneath her voice betrayed the frustration she tried to hide.

Ines exhaled softly, her gaze distant. "I've known for some time that the council has been pressuring him. They all want a man on the throne. And since I'm his only child, they want to put one there. By marrying me."

Noah's expression didn't change. "Frederick Ramsay."

Ines smiled bitterly. "So you've heard. The nobles see him as the perfect candidate. Ambitious, completely loyal to the court's interests, and of course, the son of the First Premier."

She shook her head slightly. "They think that if I marry him, Camelot will remain 'stable.' That a woman ruling alone would only invite chaos."

"What if you're interpreting it wrong?" Noah finally spoke. "What if your father simply wants to protect you?"

Ines' gaze flicked to him, a note of anger entering her voice. "Protect me from what? Responsibility? Expectation?"

"No, Noah. My father doesn't shield me out of love. He shields me out of fear. Fear that I'll do things differently. That I'll challenge the way this kingdom runs."

Noah's lips parted slightly as if to reply, but he paused, his eyes drifting away for the briefest moment. The orchestra's music filled the silence between them.

"Perhaps," he said finally, "this is a matter between father and daughter…"

He stopped.

He stopped dancing, frowning.

Ines looked up at him, startled. "What's wrong?"

Noah didn't answer. His head tilted slightly, his gaze darting across the ballroom. He felt something. Something that didn't belong.

He had no idea what it was, but his instincts were screaming at him.

Something was wrong.

Noah straightened, scanning the crowd.

The nobles laughed and twirled, their jewels catching the light. Servants glided gracefully between them, trays of drinks held aloft. Nothing seemed amiss. And yet…

His heart began to beat faster, his pulse quickening with an emotion he couldn't name.

Unease mixed with something darker. Maybe anticipation.

He looked towards the far end of the ballroom, where the First Premier, Thomas Ramsay, was laughing with a cluster of nobles. The man raised his goblet, his expression bright and carefree.

Then, as Noah watched, Thomas paused.

The smile slipped from his face. He coughed once, lightly at first. Then harder.

The nobles beside him turned, startled.

Thomas coughed again, doubling over this time, his hand gripping the table. Wine spilled from his goblet, splattering across the white tablecloth.

A ripple of unease passed through the nearest guests. Someone called for a servant.

Before anyone could move, another noble, a baron Noah didn't recognize, dropped his own goblet, clutching his throat. His face turned red, veins bulging along his temples.

A third person gagged. A woman this time, falling backward in her partner's arms, her breath hitching as she clawed at her neck.

The orchestra faltered. The violins trailed off into dissonant silence.

Then the murmurs began softly and confused, growing louder with every passing second.

"Is something wrong?"

"Fetch a healer!"

"Someone call the guards!"

Servants rushed in with towels and water, but the tension in the air had already shifted. It was no longer a ball. It was the beginning of panic.

Noah's eyes darted across the room, his sense of unease building. The sensation he'd felt earlier, it was stronger now.

It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

He could feel it. That dark, slithering energy that once belonged to Othello's potions, the same energy he'd felt when Bruno transformed, when Marlon lost control.

The hybrid essence.

It was here.

It was in the room.

But it wasn't visible. It was hiding.

Noah's jaw tightened. His gaze swept the hall, his mind racing through possibilities.

No…

No, it can't be!

He tried to use all his senses, but the air was saturated with noise.

The mana of the participants mixed together to be an almost indistinguishable pile. It distorted everything.

The energy was here, right next to him, and yet utterly unreachable.

"Noah?" Ines asked quietly, sensing the change in his expression. "What is it?"

He didn't answer immediately. His eyes had gone cold. He could feel the hunger of the abyss nearby. The same taint that had ruined lives and turned men into monsters.

The faint ripple of mana brushed against his senses again. It wasn't one source. There were many. Dozens.

The orchestra tried to recover, a few tentative notes breaking the silence, but the illusion of normalcy shattered when a scream tore through the air.

A single, piercing sound that silenced the entire hall.

Every head turned.

And Noah's instincts screamed louder than ever.

He knew that sound.

He'd heard it before.

The scream of transformation.

The scream of a soul breaking.

And as the echoes filled the ballroom, Noah's blood ran cold.

Something had just been unleashed.

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