CHAPTER 72: CHAPTER 73 – THE TRAP IN VELVET 1

Recap – From "Ashes on the Throne"

The rain may have washed the streets clean, but the stench of betrayal still clung to the air. After surviving the night’s bloodshed, Kai barely had time to breathe before the summons came—straight from the palace. His name, freshly inked on a royal kill order, was whispered in every shadow. And yet, the Queen didn’t call for his execution. She called for an audience. Lyra was no longer simply an adversary; now she stood at the Queen’s right hand, a crown’s protection draped over her like armor. Velis warned that setting foot in the throne room would be like walking willingly into a lion’s den. Astra, ever the strategist, argued it could be a chance to turn the Queen’s paranoia against her. But their debate was cut short by a single unopened letter, lying on the war table—a letter addressed to Kai in handwriting he had not seen since the day his world burned. Now, with the city’s whispers snapping at his heels, Kai approaches the heart of the storm.

Main Story –

The palace loomed in the twilight like a beast crouched in wait, its many spires stabbing into the fading sky. Lanterns lined the sweeping stairway, their flames flickering in the evening wind, casting fractured shadows across the white marble. Every step Kai took toward those towering gates felt deliberate—not because he feared what lay beyond, but because he refused to show it.

He could feel eyes on him. The guards flanking the stairs wore expressions carved from stone, but their gazes tracked his movements with the measured focus of predators who knew when to strike. One rested a hand on his spear, a faint tightening of fingers hinting at readiness. The other’s visor tilted ever so slightly as Kai passed, as though memorizing his face for later.

Inside, the air changed immediately—thicker, scented with expensive incense that couldn’t quite hide the metallic tang of oiled steel. The walls glowed under the golden wash of torchlight, each flame reflecting in the polished marble floors until it looked as though Kai walked on rippling fire. Servants moved quickly in and out of side corridors, their slippers making no sound, but their glances lingered a second too long. Whispers bled into the air like threads of smoke—half-sentences smothered quickly, names cut short.

A crimson carpet stretched down the length of the hall, guiding him toward the throne room’s double doors. Tall windows bled the last of the sun’s light across the floor, turning everything a deep, foreboding red.

Near a row of carved columns, two nobles spoke in hushed tones—until they noticed Kai. One, a heavy-set man draped in emerald velvet, narrowed his eyes, his lips curling faintly. "So the Queen’s pet assassin walks the halls like he belongs here," he murmured, not quite quietly enough. His companion, a sharp-faced woman with jewels braided into her hair, simply smiled—a slow, knowing curve that promised trouble.

Further along, a servant boy stumbled and nearly dropped a silver tray as Kai passed. His eyes darted up—wide, startled—before quickly lowering again. Yet, in that instant, Kai caught the faintest flicker of recognition.

Who else knows I’m here?

And then—movement.

From a side passage, Lyra emerged, the sweep of her gown almost soundless against the marble. Black silk flowed around her like liquid shadow, traced with lines of silver embroidery that caught the torchlight in dangerous flashes. Her eyes found his instantly, and for a heartbeat, neither spoke. The faint curl of her lips was almost pleasant—if you didn’t know her.

"You’re punctual," she said at last, her voice low, almost intimate.

Kai arched a brow. "And you’re still pretending this is business, not pleasure."

She stepped closer, closing the distance until the scent of her perfume—jasmine laced with a sharp metallic note—brushed against his senses. "Pleasure has nothing to do with it. This is survival." She leaned in until her breath ghosted against his ear, her tone dropping into a razor’s whisper. "One wrong step, Ashura... and I’ll be the one to end you."

He didn’t back away. "Then I’ll be careful where I step."

Her eyes glinted like polished obsidian. Without another word, she swept past him, pressing lightly against the doors until they parted just enough to admit her. The knights stationed there didn’t move, didn’t challenge her. It was as if the entire palace had already decided whose side she was on.

Kai stood for a moment, his reflection fractured in the polished floor. From beyond the doors came the faint echo of music—soft strings, polite laughter—yet beneath it was a tension so taut it vibrated in the air.

Velis’ warning whispered at the edges of his mind: Banquets have a history of ending in blood.

Astra’s voice followed, cool and deliberate: Then make sure it’s not yours.

Kai’s hand brushed against the sealed letter hidden inside his sleeve, its weight impossibly heavy for something so small. A letter written in a hand he thought he’d never see again—a ghost from the fire that had destroyed his life.

The doors began to swing wider, spilling gold light across his boots.

He took a breath, and stepped forward.

Bonus Scene – The Hall Before the Queen

The throne room was transformed for the banquet. Long tables, heavy with silver platters and crystal goblets, stretched across the marble like rivers of wealth. Tall candelabras dripped wax onto the embroidered runners, their flickering light catching on the gilded edges of polished shields mounted along the walls.

Music drifted from a quartet tucked discreetly into the corner—a slow, graceful melody that didn’t quite match the weight in the air. Every noble present seemed draped in the finest silks and jewels, yet their smiles were thin and sharp, their eyes calculating. It was less a gathering of friends than a pen full of wolves dressed in gold.

Kai stepped inside, every gaze turning toward him. He could feel their curiosity like heat against his skin—half intrigue, half hostility. A noblewoman with hair the color of autumn leaves tilted her head and whispered behind a fan. Across the room, an older man in crimson silk didn’t bother hiding the way his eyes narrowed, as though measuring where best to put a blade.

Velis had been right. This was no celebration. It was a hunt.

Near the far wall, Astra stood beside a serving table, her posture deceptively casual as she sampled a glass of deep red wine. She caught his eye and gave the barest tilt of her head—a signal, or perhaps a warning. Her gaze flicked briefly to the upper balcony, where shadowed figures stood half-hidden among the velvet curtains.

Kai followed the look, noting the faint glint of steel where light caught metal.

A small cluster of nobles approached him then, their laughter thin and false. One of them, a tall man with a gold chain across his chest, extended a hand in greeting but did not step close enough for Kai to take it.

"Lord Ashura," the man said smoothly, though the title dripped with irony. "We’ve heard so much about you. Quite the... survivor, aren’t you?"

Kai smiled faintly. "Depends on who’s telling the story."

The noble’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement—or warning.

Before more could be said, a hush rolled through the room like a ripple in still water. The great doors at the far end swung open again, revealing the herald in his red and gold livery. His voice rang out over the quiet.

"Her Majesty, Queen Serathine."

Every guest bowed or curtsied, the movement practiced, rehearsed. Kai stood still a heartbeat longer than was polite—just long enough to feel the weight of a hundred eyes notice—before he bent his head in grudging acknowledgment.

The Queen entered slowly, her gown a cascade of black silk that shimmered like oil under candlelight. The crown atop her head glinted with sharp, cold diamonds. She smiled, but it was the smile of a predator who had already chosen her prey.

Kai knew then that Velis was wrong about one thing.

This wasn’t just a trap.

It was a stage.

Next Chapter Preview – The Trap in Velvet 2

The Queen’s banquet unfolds like a play—every gesture, every smile, every sip of wine carrying a meaning hidden beneath layers of courtly manners. Yet beneath the polished marble and gold, something rotten stirs.

Kai takes his seat at the long table, the royal kill order still fresh in his mind, its ink barely dry. Across from him, Lyra sits as though she belongs there—crowned in the Queen’s favor, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. Every word she speaks drips with subtle warning, but her half-smile suggests she’s enjoying the game far too much.

Masked servants glide between guests, pouring wine that’s perhaps too dark, too heavy. Velis scans the hall like a hawk, lips pressed thin, while Astra murmurs under her breath, mapping the power plays as they unfold. Above them, the shadowed figures in the balcony shift position, waiting for some unseen signal.

The Queen raises her goblet in a toast, and in that instant, Kai realizes—

the trap isn’t meant to kill him alone.

It’s meant to reshape the court entirely.

The question is no longer if he’ll survive the night...

but whether anyone else will.

⚔️ The throne room is only the beginning...

The Queen smiles, but every shadow in her court hides a knife. Who’s here to toast Kai—and who’s here to end him?

📚 Add this book to your library so you don’t miss the moment the trap snaps shut.

💬 Comment your theories—is Lyra playing the Queen’s game, or her own?

🔺 Vote with Power Stones if you’re ready for poisoned banquets, hidden daggers, and one twist after another.

Let’s keep the fire burning... and see who survives the night. 🔥