In the past days, Astoria and Ankou had been mass-summoning the Darklings, the ones who were willing to join their Darkling army. More Darklings popped out of the shadows, but Astoria stumbled back, panting heavily.

One of the Darklings, a girl called Isla, offered her some water. Isla was Ankou's baby sister, but she seemed tough. "Take a sip, Astoria De Vil." I guess everyone calls me by my first name, Astoria thanked her, taking the glass of water. "Are you tired?"

Yes. "No," Ankou answered for her. "We must continue to build the army."

"You're being too hard on her, brother," Isla insisted.

"She's tired, let her rest," Elias said, entering the library inside the De Vil Manor. He had to squeeze past a few Darklings, they had been filling up the manor by dozens. "Astoria isn't a Darkling like you guys, she's a mortal."

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you," Ankou replied, skimming through the Book of Darkness. Finally, he looked at Astoria, then Elias. "You don't understand, okay? You're just Viscount folk, this isn't your fight."

Astoria saw how Elias twitched. "Let's just take a break, hm?" He nodded wordlessly, leaving the library quickly. Isla coughed, clearing her throat. "I'm going to go check on the other Darklings," she said.

After she left, Astoria turned to Ankou. "Stay in your lane, that was uncalled for."

Ankou shook his head. "I understand that he's your henchman or something, but you must leave Elias Lennox." You don't know what risks he took for me, Astoria bit back bitter words. "He'll only drag you down."

"That's enough." Astoria clasped her hands. "Let's focus on the task at hand."

༻༺✧༻༺

Febra 4th

Because they had finished summoning their Darkling army, there were many Darklings sleeping on the floor or in any spare room. Astoria tried to get to know all of them, but it was hard to memorize all their names—Persephone, Dante, Deres, Kathos, Arina, Ushi...

Isla tapped Astoria on the shoulder worriedly. "Lady of Dread, the Heirs are approaching."

Astoria straightened, alarmed. "Already? Get Paloma Yearwood, Ire Cross, and Ankou. Tell them to prepare the Darklings and send them out," she told Isla, looking around. "I'll find my second-in-command, Elias."

Astoria bolted up the stairs, passing by many rushing Darklings. "The Heirs are approaching the manor!" she hollered, taking a sharp turn to Elias' room. She suddenly bumped into someone, stumbling back.

"Sorry," Elias said, fully dressed in armour. His sword was looped around his belt and he handed Astoria her daggers. "I heard all the commotion, the Heirs are coming, aren't they?"

"Hurry, we need to get to the manor's frontier—"

"Where's your armour?"

Astoria lifted up her skirt, quickly slipping off the dress. Underneath was her armour and padding. "I've been preparing for this," she breathed as Elias stifled back a laugh. They ran down the stairs, seeing that the De Vil Manor's doors had already flung open. "Wait!"

Elias halted. "What's wrong?"

"It's Febra 4th—a day before your birthday. Happy birthday, Hawk."

He allowed a small smile. "You remembered."

"Astoria, Elias!" Paloma yelled, running over with Ire Cross. He had retired from the Viscount army to join theirs, and Astoria was eternally grateful. Paloma panted, taking a deep breath. "We attack on your command."

The four stepped outside, the cold night breeze flying past them. Astoria joined Ankou, overseeing their troops of Darklings. Ankou turned to her, grinning. She had never seen him grin or even smile before. "This is everything I dreamed of."

She didn't reply at first. "Yeah, me too." On the horizon, she saw the outline of the Heirs and the Viscount army. She looked at the Darklings, taking a deep breath. "Today, Febra 4th, marks the day we fight against the Viscount Kingdom, which I had called the Vicious Kingdom ever since I was little.

"You barely know me, I only summoned most of you a few days ago, yet you still stand by me. You Darklings, you never deserved to be exiled to Archemoros. Today, we fight for the Slums, we continue to protect Valdor!"

The Darklings cheered and Isla stood by her brother. She grasped Ankou's hand and Ankou nodded at Astoria. She took another deep breath, gazing at the storming Viscount army. She knew that Thatcher Abernathy was watching her closely from afar.

"Take charge!" she roared as the Darklings charged towards the Heirs and Viscount's army. Astoria took out her dagger, running along with them. Elias ran alongside her, his sword drawn.

"I'm gunning for Thatcher," she said as she saw an arrow coming straight for her. She dropped to her ground, sliding across the slick grass. Elias quickly picked her up, helping her get back on her feet. "You take the others?"

"Ankou's taking Zinnia, I'll take Celeste," he told her, parting ways. Immediately, Astoria spotted Prince Thatcher, battling Isla the Darkling. Isla dodged his advances, another Darklings jumping in to help her, but Thatcher managed to strike Isla's cheek. She cried out as Astoria rushed over.

"Isla! You two, grab Prince Thatcher!" Astoria shouted at two Darklings. They grabbed a hold of Thatcher's arms as Isla took away his sword. Suddenly, with Thatcher's mangled dark brown hair and blood-speckled pale skin, he looked so much like his father, King Julius. "Hello, Thatcher, do you remember me now?"

"You're a monster," he snarled, his hazel eyes full of anger. Astoria saw the familiar glint in his eyes, the glint that was power-hungry. "You murdered our parents, the Council of Viscount members! You keep trying to kill my friends—you're not the Lady of Dread or Astoria De Vil, you're just heartless."

Astoria grabbed him by the chin, her gray eyes boring into Thatcher's hazel eyes. "If you claim that King Julius and Queen Caprina were so great, you're just following their footsteps, Prince Thatcher." She almost laughed as bloodshed spilled around her on the battlefield. "You're a horrible person too, you allowed terrible things to happen to Valdor. As the future king of the Vicious Kingdom—sorry, the Viscount Kingdom—it's your role to protect everyone. Everyone."

Thatcher didn't falter. "What, you're going to kill me?" He tried to resist. Struggling against the Darklings' grasp. "You're going to kill my friends? Celeste? Zinnia? Nayleen? Foxe?"

"I don't want to, but I will," Astoria said, holding up her dagger. This is the end of you, Thatcher Abernathy. She stepped forward, ready to kill, but someone pulled her back. She froze as she realized it was Celeste Laurier, her blond hair swaying in the wind.

Astoria looked up at the stars as Celeste pressed her sword to her neck. She closed her eyes, sighing. "Hello, half-sister." I can't fail Mother or Madam Sunna now, she looked for escape but to no avail.

"Let her go," Isla said cautiously. With the Darklings distracted, Thatcher slipped out of their grasp, joining Celeste's side. "No, no!" Isla shrieked, gasping for air. Astoria knew what she felt like—everything they planned for could be destroyed in a matter of seconds.

It'll be okay, Astoria mouthed to her. I know what it's like, Isla.

"Astoria!" Elias yelled, dread in his eyes. All battles paused to watch what would happen next as Celeste kept her sword trained on Astoria's neck. Elias stepped closer and Celeste pressed the sword more, a small drop of blood trickling.

"You don't scare me," Astoria said, "you simply don't."

"I'm going to kill you," Celeste whispered in her ear. "I'm not bluffing."

"Me either," she replied, looking over to Thatcher. She narrowed her eyes, finally understanding. The problem was never the Viscount Kingdom, it was the vicious people who ruled over it.

"Prince Thatcher, if I may ever ask you a question so dearly?"

He furrowed his brows. "What is it?"

"Would you rather sacrifice Celeste Laurier or the Viscount Kingdom?" Astoria De Vil asked. She felt Celeste's heart slow down as everyone stared at Thatcher, waiting for his answer. He looked shocked, unsure. "I mean, this is what this whole battle is about, isn't it, Prince Thatcher?"

"Th-Thatch?" Celeste whispered quietly. "You have an answer, don't you?"

He didn't answer.

Astoria looked at Celeste at least. "Do you understand now?"

Celeste released Astoria in tears, marching up to him. Full of rage and sorrow, she poked her finger in his chest. "I-If you truly loved me," she croaked, "and wanted the best for Viscount, maybe even the Slums, you would have sacrificed yourself."

She suddenly stabbed the tip of her sword into Thatcher's chest and Astoria flinched, shocked. She didn't know that Celeste had it in her to do that. Thatcher gasped, falling back. "Cel—" He crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from his chest. "Please, I can't..."

Celeste gave him a final look before thrusting her sword at herself. She fell back as Astoria rushed to her side. This is a suicide, she thought as she looked at Celeste's dying face. She rolled over, sighing. "Our father, L-Lord Otis, went to Nadine De Vil's house before midnight. When he came back, he was soaked in blood, but I didn't speak up then."

Otis Laurier killed my mother, Astoria thought angrily.

"I know about the contract too, the second that it was written, my mother is one of the co-owners of the bank. Paloma Yearwood wasn't as sneaky as you thought." Celeste took a sharp inhale of air. "Still, I didn't speak up. Astoria, I never knew you, but speak up for everyone who can't."

Thatcher Abernathy and Celeste Laurier died that night.