"Hey, quick question—where's the comfort room?" Jack asked, shifting his weight awkwardly and looking around the lavish halls of the palace.
Arabella tilted her head. "You mean the lavatory?"
"Yeah, yeah, that one," Jack said, waving his hand casually, trying to play it cool.
Beatrice pointed down the left corridor. "Through there, second door after the tapestry of King Eldric. Why—do you need to pee like a child?"
"Something like that," Jack muttered with a smirk.
But the truth was very different. As they were speaking, Jack had felt a strange warmth on his wrist. When he glanced down, he saw it—the ancient bracelet, Aethelred, given to him back in Porthaven, was faintly glowing.
Not pulsing. Not blinking.
Glowing.
And it wasn't the comforting, slow pulse it had shown before during moments of stress or focus. This was steady. Bright. Almost urgent.
He mumbled a quick, "Thanks," and darted down the hallway before anyone could say more.
As he turned a corner at full speed, the inevitable happened.
Crash!
Jack slammed right into someone.
"Oh no—!" the voice cried.
A half-filled goblet of red wine flew from her hand and splattered across a stunning ivory dress. The woman stumbled back with a gasp, her hair tumbling in soft golden waves, her dress now stained a dark crimson.
Jack blinked in horror. She was beautiful. Elegant. Regal. Maybe even dangerous.
"Are you blind?!" she snapped, stepping back with both hands raised, staring down at the soaked silk and then back at Jack. Her eyes were like daggers dipped in fire.
"I'm—I'm really sorry," Jack said quickly, hands raised. "I didn't see you—like, at all. That's on me, totally on me."
She folded her arms, mouth twitching in outrage. "Clearly. You barge down palace halls like a madman and now you've ruined my—"
Jack's eyes flicked to the bracelet. It pulsed stronger.
"Look, I swear I'll pay for the dress or get it cleaned or whatever nobles do here, but I gotta—"
Before she could finish shouting, Jack reached out—carefully but suddenly—and swiped his hand over her dress. The wine stains evaporated instantly.
The woman froze.
"Did you just—?"
"Magic trick. Sorry. Emergency. Gotta go. Thanks!"
And just like that, Jack darted past her, turning another corridor, heart pounding—not from embarrassment, but because something was calling him.
Something inside the palace walls had awakened Aethelred.
The woman blinked, stunned. "He... touched my dress… without permission," she murmured. "That's punishable. That's—" She trailed off, confused more than furious. "Who even was that idiot?"
Against her better judgment, she started walking after him—but as she turned the corner, he was gone. Lost in the tide of palace guests.
Inside the lavish comfort room, Jack braced both hands on the sink, breathing heavily. The glow from Aethelred had stopped completely.
"What the hell was that about..." he whispered.
He waited five minutes. Nothing. He stared at the bracelet. Still and silent.
"Great. You light up and drag me here just to ghost me? Rude."
He left the room, still muttering to himself, and made his way back to where Beatrice and Arabella had been. But they were gone.
He passed through a corridor until he arrived at the Grand Sala.
The room was alive with chatter, light, and grandeur. Chandeliers the size of wagons hung from the ceilings. Velvet drapery lined the walls, and guards in ornate armor stood at attention.
Jack stepped in slowly.
The place was packed.
Commanders with decorated uniforms, nobles glittering in silk and gold, and at the center of it all—the Aurumnhart family. Duke Greysen, composed and firm. Liam, the Silver Lion of the South, steel-eyed and standing tall in his commander uniform. But Jack didn't approach. Too many people. Too many eyes.
He noticed the stage. The King and Queen sat on their thrones like living statues. And standing below them—
Her.
The woman he'd spilled wine on.
She was flanked by banners of silver and blue, her long cloak sweeping behind her as she turned to face the crowd.
"I am Commander Highlady Athena Wintermere, Supreme Marshal of the Eldorian Forces and Head of the Council of War," she declared.
Even Jack's jaw dropped. Supreme Marshal? That explained a lot.
Meanwhile, at the front, five out of the six designated chairs were filled. The five heroes—Andre, Austin, Enrico, Natalya, and Sofia—sat straight, facing Athena. Jack's seat remained empty.
Andre leaned toward Austin and whispered, "Yo... where's Jack? He just vanished."
"He went with the two shawties or something, I think," Austin murmured back. "Bro's been gone for like ten minutes."
Enrico scratched his head. "Can we raise our hand or somethin'? Let her know we're missing one?"
Sofia hissed under her breath, "No way. Her aura is terrifying. I feel like she'll vaporize us."
Natalya kept her eyes forward but whispered, "He better not leave us to take all the heat."
Behind them, Jack stood frozen at the back of the room, hiding behind a marble pillar. He knew he had to walk forward soon.
But... that woman.
Athena's gaze slowly scanned the crowd, and for a fleeting second, her eyes locked with Jack's.
He swallowed.
Yup. I'm so dead.
As the lady in the regal violet gown stood center stage, her voice rang with power and elegance, echoing throughout the Grand Hall like a perfectly tuned instrument.
"I am Lady Athena Wintermere, High Commander of the Eldorian Strategic Council," she announced. "My duty is to ensure the safety of this kingdom... and now, the guidance of its newly chosen heroes."
The five seated heroes shifted uncomfortably in their ornate chairs. The air felt heavier than it should. Even Andre, who usually had a goofy grin ready for any occasion, sat up straight like he was in military school.
Austin whispered under his breath, "Yo… where the hell is Jack? This lady looks like she'll vaporize us if we talk out of turn."
Enrico glanced toward the empty sixth chair. "Maybe he chickened out. This woman's giving 'headmistress of Hogwarts' vibes."
Natalya just crossed her legs and rolled her eyes. "We're all going to die because the sixth hero."
Sofia added softly, "I hope he's not in trouble. I saw him earlier with the two lady."
They couldn't speak directly to Athena—her presence was like a wall of pressure. Just being around her made their backs straighten, their jokes dry up, and their voices vanish. Her aura was elegance and discipline molded into one intimidating figure.
Meanwhile, Jack was lingering at the back of the hall, hiding behind a tall pillar. He'd snuck in just before Athena began speaking, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"She's terrifying," Jack whispered to himself. "Why is she more boss than the Queen?"
He was about to move closer when his elbow bumped into someone. He turned—and his heart stopped.
It was her. The woman from earlier. The wine-stained dress had been replaced with something even more extravagant—white and silver with golden accents. Her hair was perfectly styled, lips set in a mildly irritated frown.
"You," she said plainly.
Jack stiffened. "Oh. Hey… sorry again about the dress thing. I wasn't trying to be rude, I was just—uh—really had to pee."
Her eyes narrowed. "You wiped my chest with a napkin."
"That's… technically true."
She stared at him for a few long seconds, then, to Jack's shock, she chuckled softly. "You're lucky you're interesting."
Jack blinked. "That might be the nicest way someone's told me I'm a disaster."
She didn't respond. She just turned and began walking toward the front where Athena was speaking.
Jack hesitated, then followed at a safe distance, weaving through the noble crowd. He recognized the Aurumnhart family near the front—Liam, clad in silver armor, standing tall beside his father Greysen, who wore his usual grim expression. Jack made eye contact with Liam, who gave a single nod.
He wasn't sure if that meant "you're late," or "don't screw this up." Probably both.
Then, without warning, Athena's voice boomed again.
"And now… where is our sixth hero?"
The crowd murmured. The five seated heroes looked at each other, alarmed.
Sofia whispered, "She noticed."
Andre muttered, "We're toast."
"...Here!" Jack raised a shaky hand as he stepped forward from the crowd.
All eyes turned. The music stopped. Time slowed.
Athena locked eyes with him. She didn't smile.
"So. You must be the one they call Jack Craneson," she said slowly, eyes narrowing.
Jack swallowed. "Yeah, that's me."
Athena didn't speak for a few seconds. Then she raised her hand and gestured to the chair.
"Take your place."
Jack looked around at the sea of high-ranking generals, nobles, and royals watching him. He took a deep breath, fixed his coat, and strode forward to sit beside his fellow heroes.
As he sat, Andre leaned over and whispered, "What took you so long, bro?"
Jack whispered back, "Got attacked by a wine goblin."
Natalya smirked. "Classic Jack."
From behind Athena, the King leaned toward the Queen and whispered, "Well… he's certainly unpredictable."
The Queen replied with a faint smile, "He might just be what this world needs."
Jack tried to keep his cool while sitting beside the five other heroes. Athena continued to speak with grace and precision about the responsibilities they would bear, the future of Eldoria, and how the kingdom would soon undergo a transformation through unity and valor.
But Jack's ears were ringing. His heart hadn't fully calmed since the bracelet incident or the mysterious woman he bumped into earlier. And now he was in front of half the ruling elite of the kingdom. No pressure.
The Grand Hall was as alive as it was elegant—layers of golden chandeliers above, banners of every great house fluttering gently from the high ceiling, the floor marble-polished to perfection. War generals stood proudly with their arms crossed, nobles sipped their drinks while analyzing every word and movement, and across the room, Jack spotted Arabella, Beatrice, and Lady Bianca whispering quietly.
Then, just as Athena was about to continue—
A voice cut through the silence.
A single, cold, accusing voice.
"Do you think this… what-so-you-call hero… is truly a hero?"
Gasps scattered like falling glass.
Heads turned in all directions.
Murmurs erupted in the crowd.
Jack's stomach dropped.
Athena's eyes narrowed. Her voice remained calm, but it held the strength of a blade.
"Show yourself. And back up your accusations."
Everyone watched. Time felt like it slowed.
From the back of the hall, a man emerged—a tall, middle-aged noble with silver-streaked black hair, a stern, weathered face, and a long coat trimmed in deep forest green. His boots echoed ominously against the marble floor with every step he took.
Jack's heart sank.
His breath caught in his throat.
He knew this man.
The man looked right at him—not with disdain, not with arrogance—but with the twisted mixture of heartbreak and fury.
He stopped in the middle of the floor, facing the royals and the heroes.
"I am Dracirr McMahon," he announced, his voice steady, noble, and grave. "A nobleman of the valley regions… And I have come not to celebrate, but to warn."
The crowd went still.
Even Athena didn't speak.
Dracirr's voice deepened.
"One of these so-called heroes is no hero at all."
The room broke into uproar again. Gasps, questions, confusion. Eyes darted across the six heroes.
Austin leaned in, whispering, "Yo—who the hell is this dude?!"
Sofia's voice trembled. "He's serious…"
Arabella held onto Beatrice's arm. "He's looking at Jack…"
Beatrice's eyes hardened. "No way…"
Athena raised her hand and the entire hall went silent again.
"Who exactly are you accusing?" she asked firmly.
Dracirr's eyes never left Jack.
He stepped forward once more.
"I was pertaining to the last hero.
To the one you all just welcomed.
To the outsider who arrived in Evendale only days ago.
To the boy you all call Jack Craneson."
The room exploded.
The nobles gasped in disbelief.
The five heroes all turned to Jack at once.
The Queen covered her mouth in shock.
The King stood up.
Arabella stood frozen.
Beatrice stepped forward instinctively, as if to protect him.
Lady Bianca's expression turned cold and unreadable.
Lord Arthur Lancaster's jaw dropped.
Greysen Aurumnhart's hand went to his sword.
Jack…
Jack couldn't move.
His mouth went dry.
His mind screamed:
"What the hell is happening?"
Athena stared at him now. Her eyes didn't blink.
And all Jack could feel…
was every soul in that hall turning against him.