Rebirth of the Phantom Empress

Chapter 18 – The Chains of Fate

The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the lingering smoke of distant torches. Selene moved swiftly through the narrow streets, her cloak billowing behind her like a wraith in the darkness. The encounter with Kael Draven had left her restless, her mind turning over the weight of his words.

"You have a fire. And I intend to fan the flames."

She clenched her fists. Kael was dangerous. A man like him did not invest in others without expecting something in return. But he had provided her with an opportunity—one she could not afford to ignore. If she played this game carefully, she could wield him as a weapon against Mirva without allowing herself to become his pawn.

She arrived at the estate's side entrance, slipping inside like a shadow. The corridors were eerily quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood as the house settled into the cold of night. But Selene knew better than to be lulled into a sense of safety. The storm she had unleashed was not yet fully formed, and she would not rest until Mirva was brought to ruin.

She paused at the foot of the grand staircase, listening. A muffled voice carried from behind the heavy double doors of Mirva's study.

Selene's pulse quickened. Still awake?

Mirva was rarely one to linger in her study at this hour. It was a sign of her growing desperation. The conversation outside had rattled her, and now she was scrambling to salvage what little power remained.

Selene stepped closer, pressing herself against the door. Through the crack beneath it, candlelight flickered against the stone floor.

"… I don't care what it takes." Mirva's voice was sharp, edged with barely concealed panic. "Find me the money. I don't care if you have to bleed the merchants dry—just get it done."

A deep male voice rumbled a response, too low for Selene to make out the words.

Selene's breath slowed. Who was she speaking to?

Another debt collector? Or something worse?

She knew Mirva well enough to recognize when she was on the verge of breaking. She was out of options, and that made her more dangerous than ever. If she was desperate enough to bargain with someone even darker than Kael Draven, Selene needed to act before Mirva found a way to claw her way back from the edge.

She won't get that chance.

Silently, she stepped away from the door, disappearing back into the shadows of the corridor.

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The Web of Influence

By the time dawn broke over the Ravencourt estate, the tension had woven itself into the very air. The servants moved with cautious precision as if sensing the power shift. Whispers followed Selene as she walked through the halls, hushed voices speaking of debts unpaid and a lady of the house losing her grip.

Exactly as she had planned.

She found Tarek and Riven waiting in the servant's quarters, their expressions grim.

"It's working," Riven said, his voice low. "The others are listening. They know Mirva is running out of options."

Tarek crossed his arms. "But there's something else. The stable hands say a carriage arrived late last night. They didn't recognize the insignia."

Selene's brow furrowed. "Not Kael's men?"

"No," Tarek said. "Someone else."

A new player had entered the game.

Selene's mind whirled with possibilities. If Mirva had secured another backer, it could complicate everything. She needed to uncover the truth—and fast.

Her fingers curled at her sides.

"I'll handle it."

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The Ghost of the Past

That night, Selene dressed in plain servant's garb, pulling a hood over her head as she slipped into the shadows of the estate's outer grounds. The late-night arrival of the unknown guest lingered in her thoughts, and she was determined to find out who Mirva was conspiring with.

She moved swiftly toward the eastern wing, where the guest rooms were kept. A faint light glowed beneath one of the doors. Selene pressed herself against the wall, waiting.

Minutes passed.

Then—footsteps.

She held her breath as the door creaked open. A tall figure emerged, his silhouette sharp against the dim candlelight. He stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind him.

Selene's heart pounded as she caught sight of his profile.

Lord Damian Blackwood.

The name sent a jolt of fury through her.

She had not seen him in years, but she remembered him well—her father's once-loyal advisor, the man who had stood in the shadows of her family's downfall.

So Mirva had turned to him?

Selene's nails dug into her palms. If Lord Damian Blackwood had a hand in Mirva's affairs, then she had underestimated just how deep the rot ran.

As he walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the corridor, Selene exhaled slowly.

This changed everything.

Kael Draven had been a dangerous player—but Lord Damian Blackwood?

He was a reminder of the past she could never outrun.

And now, she would make sure he paid for his sins.

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A Reckoning Approaches

The next morning, Selene stood in the grand hall once more, staring up at her father's portrait.

Everything was converging. The storm she had summoned was on the horizon, and it was only a matter of time before it broke.

She would not be caught unprepared.

Her father had been betrayed. Her family had been stripped of everything.

But she was still here.

And she would reclaim what was hers.

As she turned away from the portrait, her resolve solidified.

Mirva had only three days left.

And Selene would make sure she spent every one of them in terror.

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