Chapter : 1465

  Jasmin took it out. Her hands were shaking. She unfolded it. The paper was thin and brittle. It was covered in writing, but at first glance, it looked like nonsense. It was a list of grocery items. Eggs, milk, flour, sugar. But the quantities were wrong. Fifty eggs. Three pounds of salt. It didn't make sense.

  Then she noticed the pattern. Every third word was underlined with a faint, almost invisible scratch of ink.

  Jasmin wasn't a spy. She wasn't a genius like Lloyd or a strategist like Mei Jing. But she had spent months watching Lloyd work. She had seen him decode messages, seen him look for patterns in chaos. She took a deep breath and focused.

  "Apples," she read. "Red. Help. Bread. Risa. Butter. Taken."

  Jasmin gasped. She grabbed a piece of charcoal and a scrap of paper. She began to write down the underlined words, her hand moving feverishly.

  Help. Risa. Taken. Not. Just. Hostage.

  The message began to form. It wasn't a grocery list. It was a desperate cry for help that Pia had hidden, perhaps hoping she would one day be brave enough to show it to someone, or perhaps saving it as insurance.

  Orchid. House. Secret. Facility.

  Jasmin’s blood ran cold. She knew about Risa. Pia had confessed that her younger sister was being held hostage by the Altamiran intelligence to force Pia into spying. That was why Pia had betrayed them. To save her sister. Lloyd had promised to save Risa. But Pia had died before that could happen.

  But this note... this note said something different. Something worse.

  Latent. Magic. Children. Processed.

  Jasmin read the word again. Processed. It was a cold, industrial word. You processed meat. You processed wool. You didn't process children.

  She continued decoding, her dread growing with every word.

  Weaponized. Pain. Irreversible. Procedure.

  Tears welled up in Jasmin’s eyes. This wasn't just a hostage situation. Pia’s sister wasn't sitting in a cell waiting to be traded. She was in a factory. A factory that turned children into weapons.

  And then, at the very end of the note, there was a date. A timeline.

  Scheduled. Five. Months. From. Note.

  Jasmin looked at the date scribbled at the top of the parchment. She did the math in her head. She counted the months on her fingers, desperate to be wrong.

  Pia had hidden this note before she was caught. That was... four months ago. Pia had been dead for a while now. The seasons had changed.

  Four months had passed. The note said the procedure was scheduled for five months from the date of writing.

  Jasmin stared at her hand. Four fingers were up. One finger was down.

  One month.

  There was only one month left.

  The silence of the room suddenly felt heavy, suffocating. The dust motes dancing in the light didn't look peaceful anymore; they looked like the sands of an hourglass, falling away.

  Jasmin clutched the note to her chest. She felt a profound, crushing weight settle onto her shoulders. Pia was dead. She couldn't save her sister. She had died terrified, with a curse on her throat, believing she had failed.

  "I promised," Jasmin whispered, though she hadn't really promised anything to Pia directly. But she had felt a bond. They were both servants. They were both small people in a world of giants.

  She looked at the empty travel bag. It looked like a gaping mouth now. A silent scream.

  Jasmin stood up. Her knees were weak, but her grip on the paper was iron-hard. She wasn't just a handmaiden anymore. She wasn't just the girl who cleaned the study or sang in the choir. She was the only person in the world who knew the truth.

  She was the holder of a dead woman's last wish.

  She looked at the door. Beyond it lay the hallway, and beyond that, the study where Lloyd was likely working on his machines or his plans. He was a busy man. He was dealing with kings and devils. He didn't have time for a dead spy's sister.

  But Jasmin remembered his face when Pia died. She remembered the rage.

  She took a deep breath, smoothing down her apron. She wiped the tears from her face. She couldn't be weak now. She had to be strong. For Pia. For Risa.

  "One month," she said aloud, her voice trembling but firm. "We have one month."

  Chapter : 1466

  She grabbed the note, turned on her heel, and marched toward the door. The feather duster lay forgotten on the floor. There was no time for cleaning today. Today, she had to start a war.

  ----

  Jasmin walked through the corridors of the Ferrum estate. Usually, she walked with a light, almost silent step, the result of years of trying to be invisible. A good servant was neither seen nor heard unless summoned. But today, her footsteps were heavy. They echoed against the stone walls, a steady thud-thud-thud that matched the frantic beating of her heart.

  She passed other servants carrying laundry or trays of food. They nodded to her, smiling. "Day off, Jasmin?" one asked.

  "Yes," she replied automatically, though she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. If she stopped, she might lose her nerve. She might realize how insane it was for a maid to burst into the Lord's study and demand a military intervention in a hostile foreign nation.

  But the paper in her hand felt hot, like it was burning her skin. Processed. Weaponized. Orchid House. The words looped in her mind like a terrible chant.

  She reached the heavy oak door of Lloyd’s private study. The guards posted there knew her well. She was Jasmin, the favored handmaiden, the one who sang with the Lord. They didn't even cross their spears.

  "Is the Lord inside?" she asked.

  "Yes, Jasmin. He's with Master Ken," the guard replied. "Do you need to bring him tea?"

  "No," Jasmin said. "I need to bring him... news."

  She didn't wait for them to announce her. She reached out and pushed the heavy door open. It swung inward with a groan of hinges that sounded entirely too loud in the quiet hallway.

  Inside, the study was a mess of papers, blueprints, and half-eaten snacks. Lloyd was standing by the window, looking out at the gardens, his back to the door. Ken Park was sitting at a side table, polishing a dagger with a cloth.

  Ken looked up immediately. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Jasmin's face. He stopped polishing.

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  Lloyd turned around slowly. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes. Being a genius, a warrior, and a wedding planner all at once was apparently exhausting.

  "Jasmin?" Lloyd said, blinking. "I thought it was your day off. Did the laundry explode again? Because I told Alaric that the volatile salts were not a detergent substitute."

  He was making a joke. He was trying to be lighthearted. It made Jasmin want to cry.

  She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She didn't bow. She didn't curtsy. She just stood there, clutching the crumpled piece of paper.

  "It's not the laundry, Master," she said. Her voice was shaking, but it was loud enough to be heard.

  Lloyd’s expression shifted. The playful sarcasm vanished, replaced by a sharp, analytical focus. He sensed the shift in the air. He sensed the weight she was carrying.

  "What is it?" Lloyd asked quietly.

  Jasmin walked forward. Her legs felt like lead. She stopped in front of his desk. She smoothed out the paper on the wood surface. Her hands were trembling so much that the paper rattled against the desk.

  "I found this," she said. "In Pia's bag. I was cleaning it out. It was hidden in the lining."

  Lloyd looked at the paper. Then he looked at Ken. Ken stood up and walked over, his movement silent and fluid.

  "It's coded," Lloyd observed, looking at the grocery list.

  "I decoded it," Jasmin said. "Every third word. It's... it's from Pia. About her sister."

  Lloyd looked at her, surprised. Then he looked back at the paper. He began to read, his eyes scanning the underlined words.

  Jasmin watched his face. She saw his eyes narrow. She saw his jaw tighten. She saw the moment he reached the part about the "Orchid House."

  "Orchid House," Lloyd muttered. "Weaponized children."

  "Keep reading," Jasmin whispered. "The date. Look at the date."

  Lloyd’s eyes moved to the bottom of the page. He paused. He looked up at the calendar on his wall. He looked back at the note. He did the math.

  The silence in the room stretched out, thin and brittle. Ken Park leaned over Lloyd’s shoulder and read the note. A dark shadow passed over the bodyguard’s face.

  "Five months," Lloyd said. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "She wrote this five months ago? No... the date is from before she died. Four months have passed since she hid this."

  Chapter : 1467

  "One month," Jasmin said. Tears spilled over her cheeks, hot and fast. "Risa has one month left. Before they... before they do the procedure. Before they make her into a weapon."

  Lloyd stared at the paper. "This changes the intelligence assessment," he said, slipping into his cold, analytical mode. "Pia's sister wasn't just leverage. She was a resource. The Altamirans aren't just holding her; they are using her. This 'Orchid House'... if they are processing children with latent magic, it suggests a large-scale program to manufacture artificial soldiers. It aligns with the reports of the Curse Knights. They might be using these children as the biological base for..."

  He was analyzing. He was strategizing. He was treating it like a puzzle.

  Jasmin slammed her hand down on the desk.

  The sound was shocking. Lloyd stopped talking. Ken looked at her with wide eyes. Jasmin, the quiet mouse, had just slammed her hand on the Lord's desk.

  "Master!" she cried out. "It's not an assessment! It's Risa! It's Pia's little sister!"

  Lloyd looked at her hand, then up at her face. He looked confused, like a machine that had been given an input it didn't understand.

  "I know," Lloyd said slowly. "I am analyzing the threat level."

  "No!" Jasmin shook her head. "Don't analyze! Feel! Pia died for us. She died because she was scared for her sister. She died believing we would help her. We promised! You promised!"

  She grabbed the note again, holding it up like a shield.

  "She has one month," Jasmin sobbed. "One month before they destroy her. Before they turn a little girl into a monster. We can't just analyze it. We have to go. We have to get her."

  Lloyd looked at the crying woman in front of him. He looked at the desperate plea in her eyes. He looked at the note, the last will and testament of a dead spy.

  "Jasmin," Lloyd said softly. "Altamira is a hostile nation. We are currently in a cold war. Entering their territory is..."

  "I don't care!" Jasmin shouted. "I don't care about the war! I don't care about politics! She is a child! And we are the only ones who know! If we don't go, she dies. Or worse. She becomes... that."

  She pointed to the window, towards the direction where the Curse Knights had attacked.

  "Is that what you want?" Jasmin asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you want Pia's sister to come back here trying to kill us? Do you want to have to kill her?"

  The question hung in the air, heavy and terrible.

  Lloyd stared at Jasmin. He saw the fire in her eyes. He saw the diamond-hard resolve beneath the tears. This wasn't the timid girl he had hired from the kitchens. This was a warrior fighting for her fallen comrade.

  He looked back at the note. Weaponized. Pain.

  He thought about Pia. He thought about the curse mark on her neck. He thought about the way she had looked at him, terrified and hopeful, before she died.

  He had promised to save her family. He hadn't put a time limit on that promise. He hadn't added clauses about political convenience.

  The cold calculation in his eyes began to recede. The general stepped back, and the man stepped forward.

  "One month," Lloyd repeated.

  "Yes," Jasmin said.

  Lloyd looked at Ken. Ken didn't say anything. He just gave a single, slow nod.

  Lloyd looked back at Jasmin. He reached out and gently took the note from her hand. He folded it carefully.

  "You're right," Lloyd said. "It's not an assessment. It's a deadline."

  The air in Lloyd’s study was thick with the dust of old maps and the scent of cold coffee. Lloyd stood by the large wall map, his finger tracing the jagged line that separated the Kingdom of Bethelham from the hostile nation of Altamira. It was a line drawn in blood and history, a border that was currently bristling with hidden armies and spies.

  Jasmin stood a few feet away, clutching her apron. She had just delivered her bombshell. She had shouted at her master. She had slammed her hand on his desk. The adrenaline was starting to fade, replaced by a cold seep of fear. Had she gone too far? Had she overstepped?

  Lloyd didn't look angry. He looked... distant. He was staring at the map as if he could see through the parchment to the mountains and fortresses it represented.

  Chapter : 1468

  "Altamira," Lloyd said, his voice a low murmur. "It is a fortress nation. Their borders are locked down. Their internal security is paranoid. They have anti-magic fields in their major cities. Their intelligence network, the 'Spider's Web', is legendary for its cruelty."

  He turned to face Jasmin. His face was a mask of calm, logical assessment.

  "To infiltrate Altamira," he continued, ticking points off on his fingers, "we would need impeccable cover identities. We would need a route that bypasses the main checkpoints. We would need to locate a secret facility that likely doesn't exist on any map. And we would have to extract a high-value prisoner from a heavily guarded facility within thirty days."

  He paused. "Strategically speaking, the probability of success is less than five percent. The probability of capture or death is nearly ninety percent. And if the heir of House Ferrum is caught in Altamira, it would trigger an immediate, total war that our kingdom is not ready for."

  Jasmin’s heart sank. He was doing it again. He was being the General. He was doing the math. And the math said no.

  "So..." Jasmin’s voice was small. "So we don't go?"

  Lloyd looked at her. He looked at Ken, who was standing by the door like a stone statue.

  "Logically," Lloyd said, "the risk outweighs the reward. Risa is one child. The war involves millions. A commander would sacrifice the pawn to save the king."

  Jasmin felt tears prick her eyes again. She knew he was right. In the grand scheme of things, in the world of lords and kings, one little girl didn't matter. Pia didn't matter. Jasmin didn't matter.

  But that answer wasn't good enough. Not today.

  Jasmin took a step forward. She wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. She thought about her spirit, the Diamond Queen. Hard. Unbreakable.

  "You are not just a commander," Jasmin said. Her voice was trembling, but it gained strength with every word. "You are Lloyd Ferrum. You are the man who saved the weaver's son in the slums. You are the man who fought a demon to save a princess. You are the man who danced with me in front of the whole court."

  Lloyd blinked. He looked surprised by her sudden defiance.

  "Jasmin..." he started.

  "No!" she interrupted him. "You listen to me! You talk about logic. You talk about math. But what about your word? You gave your word to Pia. You told her, 'I will save them.' You didn't say, 'I will save them if the math is good.' You didn't say, 'I will save them if it's politically convenient.'"

  She walked right up to him, invading his personal space. She looked up into his golden eyes.

  "Pia died believing you," she whispered fiercely. "She died with a curse choking her because she trusted you. Is your word worth nothing? Is your honor just... just decoration? Like the flowers at the wedding?"

  Lloyd stared at her. He felt a strange sensation in his chest. It wasn't anger. It was... shame.

  Jasmin continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "You can build your machines. You can play your games with the princesses. But if you let that little girl die... if you let them turn her into a monster because you were too scared of the 'math'..."

  She took a breath, her chest heaving.

  "Then you are not the man I thought you were. You are just another lord."

  The silence that followed was deafening. Ken Park shifted his weight, the leather of his boots creaking softly.

  Lloyd looked at Jasmin. He really looked at her. He saw the fear, the grief, and the fierce, burning loyalty. She wasn't asking for money. She wasn't asking for power. She was asking him to be a hero. Not the fake hero he played for the public, but a real one.

  He thought about his past life. He thought about the men he had left behind on battlefields because the "math" said they couldn't be saved. He remembered the weight of those decisions. He remembered the hollow feeling of survival bought with someone else's blood.

  He looked at his hand. The hand that had held Pia’s shoulder. The hand that had promised.

  "Just another lord," Lloyd repeated softly.

  He turned back to the map. He looked at the red line of the border. It looked less like a line and more like a scar.