Chapter 497: Framed Pictures [Bonus - ]

Chapter 497: Framed Pictures [Bonus Chapter]

The upper corridor of the Keep was whisper-quiet, insulated by heavy granite blocks and thick dark wool tapestries that swallowed the howling of the Umbral Basin’s sub-zero squalls.

Standing barely two paces outside the heavy door of Silas’s personal office, the Princess lingered.

Her damp azure hair, freshly washed and smelling faintly of sweet lilac and mineral hot springs, curled softly around her delicate shoulders.

She reached up with a pale hand, curling a lock of hair around her index finger, twisting it obsessively while her small leather-clad boots shifted against the carpet runner.

Perched securely atop her right shoulder pauldron was the obsidian bird.

The creature was barely recognizable compared to the wretched, frozen scrap of feathers that had plummeted into the snowdrifts outside Cavern KB-22.

Every single primary flight quill had been meticulously cleaned, dried, and smoothed down by the Princess’s own hands.

Its dark crystalline plumage possessed a deep obsidian sheen that caught the warm yellow light of the hallway sconces, and its wicked scythe-curved beak was tucked neatly against its chest.

It looked remarkably noble... less like an anomalous pest and more like an ancient royal familiar.

’So... how do I even go about it?’ the Princess thought, her throat suddenly parched as she chewed on her lower lip. ’How am I supposed to get closer to Lord Silas?’

Her mind wandered back to the steam-choked bath.

The raw heat that had flared in his eyes when he stood at the threshold, the sculpted lines of his chest, the hard cut of his jaw, and the agonizing heart-stopping way he had looked at her before he shut the door.

She wasn’t stupid.

In seven days, her time in Blessed Land would draw to a close.

She would have to return through the help of Thor back to Earth, stepping back into the suffocating gilded cage of high-society and global politics.

’Once the week is over and I go back... I’ll have to commission a discrete investigation,’ she mused, her azure eyes narrowing slightly in contemplation. ’I need to find out who Silas Graves truly is in the human world.’

A man with that kind of terrifying presence had to have roots somewhere.

’He must be a noble, right?’ she wondered. ’Or at least the scion of an old-money corporate dynasty or a high-ranking military house...’

He certainly possessed the striking looks for it.

The sharp high cheekbones, the flawless posture, the effortless way he held court and commanded his Heroes and even Thor without a shred of hesitation... it screamed noble.

If someone presented her with a family tree showing three centuries of Lords, she would have believed it without a second thought.

’Except...’ Her brow knit together, a subtle frown marring her porcelain forehead. ’For some reason, I doubt it.’

If Silas were a true noble... especially one hailing from the entrenched high-tier families of Earth’s modern federations, he would care about class.

He would care about decorum, lineage, social pedigree, and the rigid suffocating distance between a lord and his retainers.

True highborns didn’t swing dwarven pickaxes until their linen shirts were soaked in sweat.

They didn’t sit cross-legged on a dusty picnic mat in a subterranean cavern, laughing with their people and sharing roasted wild boar with brawlers.

Silas treated every woman under his banner with an intoxicating blend of protectiveness.

He valued competence over everything.

’And if he’s a commoner...’

A heavy freezing pit settled into the Princess’s stomach.

’This just becomes even harder.’

Her father, the King, did not care about her. Not in any way that mattered to a daughter.

She had spent twenty-five years being groomed as an ornamental bargaining chip, a political asset to be traded off to whatever territorial duke, arch-mage, or sovereign magnate offered the highest economic concession for the crown’s borders.

But while her father didn’t care about her happiness, he cared obsessively about the royal prestige.

He was not the kind of man to let a commoner touch royal blood without retribution...

If she dared to marry an unranked man from the lower rings of Earth, her father wouldn’t just disapprove... he would dispatch high-tier state assassins to quietly erase the man’s entire bloodline from the civil registry.

’Though...’ The Princess caught herself, a small breathless giggle slipping past her lips as she ran a hand through her azure locks. ’If father sent royal executioners after Silas... Silas would probably cleave them in half, feed their armor to Thora’s forge, and send the King an invoice for trespassing.’

She shook her head vigorously, banishing the dark clouds.

’All of this is getting far too serious far too fast!’

She pulled her shoulders back, inhaled the scent of clean pine lingering in the hall, and pumped her small clenched fist near her hip.

She was still riding the intoxicating high of the day’s expedition.

She had swung a pickaxe, drawn a void-iron blade, and looked monsters in the eyes without flinching.

The Princess surely wasn’t going to let fear hold her back.

CREAK!

The Princess reached out and gently pushed the heavy ironwood door inward.

The study was bathed in the warm flickering radiance of a roaring granite hearth.

Standing behind a broad desk carved from solid petrified ironwood was Silas.

He had shed his damp silk bathrobe, now dressed in a clean fitted charcoal-gray tunic cinched with a dark leather weapon belt.

His dark hair was still slightly damp, brushed casually back from his forehead, emphasizing the sharp masculine contours of his face and those penetrating golden ringed blue eyes.

He looked as effortlessly handsome as ever.

"Princess," Silas greeted her as he gestured toward the plush velvet chairs facing the desk. "Come on in... Take a seat."

Sitting casually upon the edge of the ironwood desk with one leg crossed over the other, was Eluned.

The Goddess was clad in a loose flowing emerald-green silk robe that pooled around her slender thighs like liquid moss.

Her vibrant silver green hair, shimmering with the soft luminescence of her mana, cascaded down her back in stunning waves.

Seeing the young royal enter, Eluned’s porcelain face broke into a sweet welcoming smile.

"Ah, our sweet little bluebird," Eluned purred, her melodic voice chiming like silver bells. "Come, sit down. You smell delightfully of the hot springs."

The Princess offered a relieved genuine smile, bowing her head slightly.

Eluned had been remarkably kind, patient, and maternal to her ever since she arrived in Blessed Land, providing a gentle calming presence that made the young woman feel safe.

"Thank you, Lady Eluned," the Princess said softly, stepping forward.

She walked past the hearth and pulled out one of the plush velvet chairs, smoothing her dark traveling skirt beneath her thighs as she sat down with the obsidian bird remaining perched obediently on her shoulder.

Then, she happened to look up at the stone wall directly behind Silas’s desk.

Her jaw dropped.

Her azure eyes widened to the size of full moons, and the breath violently caught in her throat.

Hanging side-by-side upon the dark granite wall, mounted in ornate, freshly carved silver frames, were two high-definition magical photographs.

The frame on the left depicted Morwenna.

The Pirate Queen was shamelessly naked, covered in thick, dripping patches of white soap suds, her mouth frozen in a wide-eyed shriek of sheer horror as she desperately clutched at her chest.

The frame on the right depicted Eluned.

The World Spirit was equally naked, lounging comfortably across a velvet chaise.

But unlike the horrified pirate, Eluned was beaming at the lens with a proud seductive smirk, puffing her ample flawless bosom out toward the frame with an arched brow, as if directly daring the viewer to reach out and touch the canvas.

GULP!

The Princess swallowed dryly, her entire face igniting into a brilliant volcanic shade of crimson that traveled all the way down to her collarbone.

"U-Um..." the Princess squeaked, her voice trembling as she pointed a shaking finger at the gallery. "L-Lady Eluned... those... those portraits..."

Eluned didn’t flinch. She simply tilted her head, letting out a soft, melodious giggle as she leaned back against Silas’s desk.

"Oh, do you like our new territorial art installation?" Eluned purred smoothly, resting her chin in her palm. "Both taken earlier this evening... A celebration of feminine vitality, wouldn’t you say? Morwenna was rather upset when I captured her lathered in suds, so she snatched my camera and spent twenty minutes stalking the hallways trying to catch me off-guard. Naturally, I don’t hide my divine gifts. When she burst in, I simply gave her a proper pose and she was so furious she almost choked on her own tongue. She still has the camera, actually. Probably lurking in the shadows waiting to take another shot."

The Princess blinked rapidly, utterly paralyzed by the casual shamelessness of high-tier entities.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of the Princess’s neck stood on end.

A freezing draft whispered through the heavy velvet curtains drawn across the eastern window.

The Princess’s eyes flicked to the side.

There, clinging to the exterior stone sill three stories above the courtyard, the window sash was sliding open with an agonizingly slow scrape.

Screeeeee!

A messy mop of black hair appeared over the ledge.

Slowly, carefully, Morwenna’s upper torso slid horizontally through the narrow opening.

The Pirate Queen was dressed in her dark leather breeches and a tight linen shirt, her teeth gritted in concentration.

Clutched firmly in her right hand was the enchanted runic camera, her finger hovering tensely over the shutter rune as she aimed the lens directly at Eluned’s flank.

Morwenna raised her eyes to line up the shot and her amber gaze locked directly onto Eluned.

Eluned was already standing, her emerald eyes glowing with cold amused mockery, staring right at her.

Morwenna’s jaw went slack.

"Shit." Morwenna hissed under her breath.

FWOOSH!

Eluned’s hand blurred.

A thick whip-like emerald root erupted from the floorboards, shooting across the room like a striking jade viper, aimed straight for Morwenna’s throat.

SWOOSH!

Morwenna’s reflexes kicked in as she pushed violently off the stone sill with both hands, throwing herself backward into the freezing night air!

KRA-CRACK!

The emerald root slammed into empty space, punching clean through the open window frame and obliterating the wooden shutter into kindling before whipping violently through the empty gale.

Outside in the darkness, Morwenna’s mocking laughter echoed from the lower battlements, followed by the sound of boots sliding across slate shingles.

"MISSED ME, YOU OVERGROWN DANDELION! I’LL GET YOU NEXT TIME!"

Inside the study, the emerald root retracted into the floor with a sharp hiss, leaving behind a draft of freezing basin air.

Eluned clenched her pale jaw, her perfect saintly composure cracking as she clicked her tongue in raw irritation.

"Tch. Slippery bilge-rat," Eluned cursed under her breath, brushing a stray green lock from her forehead. "I should have grown thorn-vines over her sill."

The Princess sat frozen in her velvet chair with her hands trembling in her lap, looking between the shattered window and the annoyed goddess.

"You... you two are certainly... unique characters," the Princess stuttered weakly, a bead of nervous sweat rolling down her temple.

Silas let out a massive sigh, placing both palms flat against the ironwood desk with a heavy thud.

"Alright, that’s enough," Silas commanded, his tone dropping into a cool tone that brooked no argument. "We are not having a photography war in my private office. All I want right now is to get this over and done with."

VUUUM.

Silas’s right hand flared with a soft azure light.

Tapping into his inventory, he withdrew the heavy dark slate tablet the bird had delivered earlier, setting the stone flat onto the desk between them.

He turned his blue eyes toward the Princess.

"I’ve already briefed Eluned on the basic premise," Silas explained calmly. "There’s an entity claiming to be a ’Goddess of Beasts’ trapped in the deep northern sectors of the Umbral Basin... The writing on the tablet is mostly illegible scratches, but the message is clear enough. She is imprisoned, she wants a savior, and she is demanding food so now, we need precise intelligence."

Eluned nodded in agreement, stepping around the desk.

"Yes, a trapped beast goddess who wants food," Eluned summarized smoothly. "A rather simple request, all things considered. Bring the creature forward, little one. I will access its memories."

Silas blinked, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at her.

’You can actually do that?’ Silas thought, genuinely intrigued.

As if reading his exact internal thoughts, Eluned turned her head toward him, offering a confirming nod, though her nose wrinkled with subtle disdain.

"I can," Eluned confirmed. "Through the fundamental resonance of Nature, all living fauna carry a spiritual frequency that bridges with the world. However... monster memories are very disoriented. I truly dislike doing it. Monsters are an unnatural mutation of the pristine natural order, and sifting through their minds feels like wading through stagnant foul mud but it works."