As dawn broke, Abigail woke with a start, the remnants of her dreams clinging to her like a shroud. Dimitri's silver eyes burned into her mind, and the brutal words from Nocturna's history echoed through her consciousness. The palace seemed to hum with an undercurrent of tension, as if the very stones were aware that the game had begun.
She dressed quickly, her movements deliberate and calm, despite the turmoil within her. The chamber felt different now, charged with an energy that prickled her skin. She knew where she needed to go, drawn by an inexplicable force that tugged at her senses.
The library was quiet, the air thick with dust and the scent of aged parchment. The shelves groaned under the weight of countless tomes, each one a testament to Nocturna's dark history. She moved silently, her footsteps muffled by the thick rugs that covered the stone floor. The hidden entrance to the catacombs was concealed behind a heavy tapestry, its threads woven with scenes of ancient battles and long-forgotten triumphs.
As she pulled back the tapestry, the air grew colder, heavier. The stairs descended into darkness, the only light coming from the flickering torch she held aloft. The walls were lined with ancient stone, etched with symbols and runes that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. The air was thick with betrayal, whispers of rulers who had claimed power through blood and deceit.
She wasn't alone.
At the bottom of the stairs, Dimitri waited, his silhouette stark against the dim light. Beside him stood Julian, silent and tense. Abigail's presence had shifted something between them, a dynamic she couldn't quite grasp. Dimitri's smirk was predatory, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and challenge.
"You're punctual," Dimitri murmured, his voice echoing in the confined space. "I appreciate that."
Abigail met his gaze steadily, her heart pounding in her chest. "I wouldn't keep you waiting, Dimitri. Not when the game has only just begun."
Dimitri chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "Indeed. And this is your first trial. Decipher truth from illusion, test your resolve. Can you handle it?"
Abigail didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, her eyes scanning the ancient walls. The runes seemed to dance before her, their meanings slowly unraveling in her mind. She spoke aloud, her voice echoing through the catacombs as she unraveled Nocturna's hidden past.
"The first ruler of Nocturna was not a conqueror, but a traitor," she began, her voice steady. "He betrayed his own kin, slaughtering them in their sleep to claim the throne. His reign was marked by fear and bloodshed, his legacy built on the bones of the innocent."
Julian stiffened beside Dimitri, his eyes widening slightly. Dimitri's smirk faded, replaced by a look of surprise. For the first time, he hesitated, his confidence wavering.
Abigail continued, her voice growing stronger. "The second ruler was a sorceress, her power fueled by dark magic. She enslaved her people, using them as pawns in her twisted games. Her reign ended in fire and brimstone, her castle reduced to ashes by the very magic she wielded."
Dimitri's expression darkened, but he said nothing. Abigail could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his scrutiny. But she did not falter. She had won the first round, and she knew it.
"And the third ruler," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He was a monster, his thirst for blood insatiable. He fed on the fear of his people, his reign a never-ending nightmare. His end came at the hands of his own son, who rose up against him, driven by the screams of the innocent."
The catacombs fell silent, the only sound the flickering of the torch. Dimitri's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. "You have done well, Abigail," he said, his voice tight. "But do not think this round is over. The next challenge will not be so easy."
Abigail smiled, a slow, confident curve of her lips. "I know," she said. "And I'm ready."
Dimitri's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away, Julian following silently behind him. Abigail watched them go, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The game had begun, and she was determined to see it through, no matter the cost.
As she made her way back up the stairs, the whispers of the forgotten seemed to grow louder, their voices urging her onward. She stepped out into the library, the weight of Nocturna's history pressing down on her shoulders. But she did not falter. She was Abigail Monroe, and she would not be broken.
The day stretched out before her, filled with unknown challenges and hidden dangers. But she was ready. She had won the first round, and she would win the next. No matter what Dimitri threw at her, she would stand her ground. For she was Abigail Monroe, and she would not be defeated.