Chapter 2: Escaping the Royal GuardThe door exploded inward, splintering oak and iron. Three armored guards surged into the room, swords drawn, their faces hidden behind cold, steel visors. Rajasa didn't hesitate; he dropped to his knees, his face morphing into a mask of pathetic subservience."He tried to kill me, Captain! The Prince is having a fit of madness!" Rajasa shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Bakti.Bakti stood frozen, his hand still gripping the desk. He glanced down at the diary. ‘7:10 AM: Scowl. Use your status. Belittle the Captain’s mother. It’s the only way to make them hesitate.’"Madness?" Bakti barked, his voice dropping an octave as he channeled the sneering arrogance he’d seen in his own reflection. "Captain, look at this servant. He’s weeping on my rug like a common gutter-rat. Is this the quality of guard you provide? A sniveling child?"The Captain, a mountain of a man whose armor was etched with the royal crest, halted mid-stride. He looked from the s

Chapter 4: Blade and WitThe air in the grand ballroom grew heavier, thick with the iron scent of spilled wine, shattered crystal, and now, fresh blood. The shimmering chandeliers overhead, once casting a warm and festive glow upon the elite of the capital, now illuminated a scene of absolute carnage. Guards finally poured through the vaulted double doors, their heavy breastplates clanking in chaotic unison, boots sliding on the slick marble floor."Secure the perimeter!" a commander roared, his voice cutting through the panic of fleeing nobles. "Find any remaining intruders! Someone call the palace healer immediately!"Sartika knelt beside the unconscious form of the assassin, her rapier still drawn, tip resting against the stone floor. Her chest heaved beneath her embroidered velvet doublet, not from exhaustion, but from the searing adrenaline that lingered in her veins. Her eyes flicked back to Kirun—or Lucius, as the underworld called him—who lay crumpled against her knees.The da

Chapter 6: The Hidden LibraryThe heavy oak door groaned as Kirun slipped into the dimly lit corridor, his side throbbing with every shallow breath. The diary felt like a lead weight in his waistband."Easy, Lucius. Don’t pass out now," he muttered to himself, his voice a jagged whisper in the drafty hall. "If you fall over, the guards will just think you’re drunk. That’s probably the best-case scenario."He pulled the leather book out. The ink swirled into place with a wet, scratching sound.‘9:30 PM: Take the servant’s path behind the tapestry. The guards are changing shifts at the west junction. If you run into the Captain, ask him about his gambling debts. He’ll be too embarrassed to arrest you.’"Gambling debts? You really are a gossip-monger, aren't you?" Kirun sighed, shuffling toward the heavy velvet hanging."Who's there?" a gruff voice barked from the shadows.Kirun froze, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He pressed his back against the cold stone wa

Chapter 8: Duel of the FoolsThe morning sun didn’t rise; it bled over the horizon, turning the training grounds into a gilded arena of dust and impending violence. Duke Wahid stood in the center, his chest puffed out like a pigeon in plated steel, his rapier already singing as he slashed the air."You’re late, boy," Wahid barked, his face a roadmap of spoiled ambition. "Or are you just hoping the executioner saves me the trouble?"Kirun walked onto the sand, his boots crunching. The steel in his hand felt like an extension of his own arm—cold, heavy, and ready. He didn't look at the crowd, but he felt their eyes, a thousand needles pricking his skin."I was busy finding my spine, Duke. It’s hard to locate in this castle," Kirun said, his voice echoing against the stone walls.Wahid sneered, adjusting his stance. "Your father should have smothered you in the crib. It would have saved the kingdom a lot of embarrassment.""Maybe. But then you’d have no one to play with, right?" Kirun st

Chapter 10: The Page TurnsThe hallway was a suffocating throat of stone, choked with the smell of ozone and burnt silk. Kirun stared at his own face—the same sharp jaw, the same haunted eyes—now twisted into a mask of cruel, regal boredom."You’re really him, aren’t you? The original owner of this body," Kirun rasped, his voice sounding thin against the heavy thrumming of the castle walls."Owner is such a crude term, don’t you think?" Lucius tilted his head, the movement fluid and unnervingly practiced. "I’m the architect. You’re just the tenant who forgot to pay the rent.""Architect? You’re a ghost with a flair for the dramatic," Kirun spat, his hand twitching toward the heavy, iron-bound diary still clutched in Lucius’s fingers. "What do you want?"Lucius laughed, a sound like glass shattering on marble. "I want the mess cleaned up. You’ve been running around like a headless chicken, and frankly, you’re embarrassing the bloodline.""I’m embarrassing the bloodline?" Kirun took a h