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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

IRENE

T he days that followed were charged with relentless tension. No second was wasted. Zahra worked on deciphering the first fragment of the map, while Javier assisted with his knowledge of the seas. Blade and Hezra collaborated on the infiltration plan, refining it to perfection. Meanwhile, Irene and Lan prepared weapons and supplies, loading the guild’s only ship with specially crafted cargo.

Every afternoon, the crew gathered for training. Irene and Javier drilled them in the art of piracy—how to survive at sea, how to wield a blade, how to fire a pistol. Irene knew they weren’t hardened pirates, not like the ones she had sailed with before. But they had to become something close.

Each night, Jessalyn assembled them around the table. Her voice was steady, her presence magnetic. “This heist must be the dullest of your lives,” she had said. “There can be no chaos. None.”

With Jessalyn, nothing was left to chance. Every detail mattered. She laid out the plan with such precision, it felt like she had rehearsed it a thousand times in her mind. When Irene had asked Blade about it, he admitted, “She’s been planning this for years.”

Jessalyn could stand for hours, her voice never faltering, her expression never betraying fatigue. “It is critical,” she said one night, standing at the head of the table. “That you get in and out like shadows. Leave nothing behind. We’ll turn their arrogance, their disdain and blindness to those beneath them into our greatest weapon. They will look at you, but they will not see you for who you really are. To those nobles, you'll be nothing but a circus troupe, a distraction. They’ll never suspect a thing, because in their minds, it’s already an honor for you to set foot in their golden Hive. They are too comfortable in the illusion of their ruthless power, and we will entertain that illusion."

Her gaze locked onto Irene. “Do not speak unless absolutely necessary. And under no circumstances should you cross paths with Dax, if he’s there.”

“You must leave Eldoria without spilling a single drop of blood,” Jessalyn commanded, another night. She placed her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. “Nor should you destroy anything. This rule is non-negotiable. Blend into the euphoria of the ball. Use their drunken stupor as cover, so that by morning, when they wake with bloated stomachs and pounding heads, it will already be too late.”

Her gaze swept the room, pausing long enough to let tension settle. “They’ll be too consumed by their own indulgence to suspect anything. Hundreds of guests will have walked those halls: nobles, entertainers, servants. And you will be nothing more than a shadow passing through the night, already beyond their reach.”

She straightened up, her sharp gaze scanning each face around the room, making sure no one missed a single word. She continued, “Once you’re out of here, you'll be on your own. I won’t be able to protect you. But the moment you secure the sapphire, I’ll find you. We’ll regroup north of Fennor. That’s where I’ll be waiting.” Her fingers traced the edge of a nearby map.

She turned back to them. “Whoever holds the other half of the sapphire will be able to track you. The moment it’s in your hands, you’ll have a target on your back. Your lives will be in great danger. But I swear on my honor”—her eyes gleamed with an almost unnerving intensity—“even if the entire world hunts you down, I will find a way to pull you out of this.”

Jessalyn limped toward a large chest in the corner of the room. she flipped the lid open, revealing stacks of gleaming gold ingots, each one stamped with the Peacock symbol. Gasps rippled through the room. Irene’s heart skipped a beat. These were the same ingots she’d seen the children melting down on her first day here. “This gold doesn’t belong to the king,” Jessalyn said, a faint smirk curling at her lips. “It bears no royal mark. No ties. It’s ours to use when it’s time to disappear.”

She closed the chest with a thud, turning back to the group, her expression hardening. Her voice sliced through the air, sharp and deliberate. “If, by some misfortune, you’re captured, do whatever it takes to not be killed on the spot. Make sure they imprison you and bring you back to Eldoria for execution. That’s the only way I can break you out.” She paused. “If they drag you back here, I'll handle the rest. “This is why I can’t risk coming with you or being captured. I am your only path to freedom.” That night, no one laughed. Not even Javier dared crack a joke. Irene stayed silent. It was at that moment they truly understood what they had gotten themselves into. And so, the routine continued. Every evening, they gathered around the table like children listening to their teacher, absorbing Jessalyn’s every word.

“Illusion is the greatest weapon,” she said, her voice steady and calculated. “When they realize what’s missing, they will tear the city apart to find you. So they must never know how you escaped—or by what means.”

The next day, Javier and Irene paid a visit to the Royal Fleet’s steward in Eldoria—an elderly man trapped by fate, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I beg you, by the Seven Seas, have mercy! Take what you want and leave! My wife and daughter will be home soon,” the old man pleaded, his voice trembling with fear.

Javier smiled, too casual for the moment. “We don’t want to rob you, old friend. We’ve made it clear what we need.”

The steward’s eyes darted nervously around the room, searching for an escape. “Sir… Madam… I told you, it’s impossible. Stealing a ship from the royal fleet? They’d hang me for treason!”

Irene leaned in, her voice low, calm, but laced with menace. “No one’s asking you to steal anything. Come now, who do you take us for? Ruthless pirates?” laughed Irene and Javier chuckled behind her.

“The night of the royal ball,” Irene continued, “the palace will display its finest ships in the harbor to impress the visiting lords, right?” And they left.

The evening before the ball, the crew gathered around the table. The atmosphere crackled with nerves and excitement after Hezra returned with their costumes. The fire blazed in the hearth, shadows flickering against the walls. Jessalyn entered the room, and the noise died instantly. She cleared her throat, her gaze sweeping the table. “I have a story to tell you.”

“Oh, come on, not another one,” Javier groaned.

“Shut up and listen,” Jessalyn snapped.

“This sapphire doesn’t only carry the curse of Nehalennia. What makes it unique and cursed is another tale. One you need to hear.”

Everyone leaned forward, as Jessalyn began. “Once, there was a woman who lived in a world that offered her nothing. She was brave, hopeful, and fought to survive in a world built to crush her. But life never gave her a chance. Years of suffering passed, and when the devil offered his hand, temptation struck. Not from weakness but desperation, because, in a world where a woman’s dreams are ground to dust, even the devil’s bitter promises can taste sweeter than honey.”

“She helped the wrong man steal from Nehalennia. Together, they found the sapphire, the frozen heart of the goddess. A gem capable of anything: plunging the world into chaos or shaping it into paradise. It could make you a god or a slave.”

“But they ignored the omens. The man didn’t want justice or wealth like her. All he craved was absolute power. He was the child of a world that had given him nothing, and he was ready to take everything."

“Of course, the devil keeps his promises but always cruelly. They had sworn to build an empire together. And he did, just not with her. He abandoned her for another woman richer, younger, more promising. Left her broken, trapped in the ruins of her own betrayal.

“In one final act of defiance, she stole back the sapphire. But she couldn’t destroy it. Instead, she shattered it into two. One half stayed with the man. The other, she hid deep within Nehalennia’s island."

It was her only victory, paid for with her life. For although the man still held one half of the sapphire, without the other to complete it, its power remained fractured. Useless.” Jessalyn fell silent.

Hezra snapped her compact mirror shut with a loud click, breaking the tension. “So, if I understand this right… the noble we’re about to rob in the Hive, he’s the one holding the first half of the sapphire?”

Jessalyn leaned on her cane, exhaling slowly. “He’s not just any noble. He’s,” but Irene's voice cut her off, cold and sharp, “The king.”