Ava Galliano: The Last Dark Queen

Another Mission

Isa was jolted awake by a soft knock at her bedroom door. Her robe, hastily pulled around her, barely kept the cold at bay as she opened the door to see a frazzled boy standing there, clutching a letter.

“What do you want?” Isa asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

“A letter for you, Your Highness,” the boy stammered, his eyes wide as if afraid of waking her.

“At this hour?” Isa frowned, glancing at the clock.

“Mistress said it was urgent that you read it,” the boy replied.

Isa didn't reply, just snatched the letter from his hands and closed the door in his face without another word. She almost tossed it into the bin—until the familiar scent of vanilla teased her nose. Isa paused, rubbing her eyes. It had been years since she’d received a vanilla letter, and this one had a different feel to it. The scent was stronger, and the writing was curved in a way that was unfamiliar. It was definitely not from Lady Priscilla.

She sat at her desk, unfolding the letter and began to read. The words flowed smoothly, but there was a distinct weight to the message that caught Isa off guard.

My dearest Isa,

I apologize deeply for what Lady Priscilla made you go through with Marcus and his pack. I was unaware that Priscilla had gotten a hold of our correspondence and used them to get back at her ex-husband. She has been punished and removed from the Fourth Division council. Hopefully, any future vanilla letters you receive will come only from me.

I am sending this letter with the sincerest hope that you will do me one last favor. I completely understand if you refuse to work for us again. I do not trust your father anymore, and I will not involve him in this choice. I fear Lady Priscilla has corrupted his judgment.

I know in my last letter I promised that the final job would be your last, but I fear my daughter has fallen into some real trouble. I would not ask you if I did not think this was urgent. I fear for her life and must send someone I trust to make sure she is safe.

Again, if you wish to refuse, I will understand. But if you want to help, I will have answers to some of your questions. Please send a reply with the delivery, and I will arrange for your escape. I apologize again for the way Priscilla coerced you into the wedding with Marcus.

Please consider my offer.

Isa stared at the paper. The letter was unsigned, but there was no mistaking its origins. The previous letters, those tainted by Priscilla, had been signed with her name, but this one felt different. Isa’s mind raced. Despite all of Charles’ efforts to erase her memories, there were a few people who still remembered her. And this was one of them. She had hoped that the Fourth Division would leave her in peace after all these years, but now, this letter—this plea—was something she couldn’t ignore.

She thought of the escape. She could slip away from her father without him even knowing, without the need for anyone to watch over her. It was tempting, almost too tempting. But the mission itself... Isa wasn’t sure she wanted to get involved again. Yet, the idea of slipping free from Charles’ control was stronger than the desire to refuse the request.

With a deep breath, Isa tore the letter up and tossed it into the trash. She grabbed a fresh piece of paper and wrote her reply. The notion of escape outweighed everything else. When she was done, she sealed the letter with her personal seal and opened the door again. The delivery boy hadn’t moved from his spot. He smiled when he saw the letter in her hand, snatched it up quickly, and vanished out the door.

Isa closed the door behind her and froze. On her bed, she saw a figure sitting, looking too calm for her liking. A chill ran down her spine. She wasn’t easily startled anymore, but she couldn’t tell when someone had been following her—until now.

“Who the hell are you, and how did you get in here?” she demanded, a growl in her voice.

The figure turned to face her, and a grin spread across his face. His aura was familiar, though his face wasn’t. There was something both comforting and disconcerting about him.

“Oh, come on, Ava. Don’t tell me you’ve completely forgotten what I look like already?” The voice was smooth, teasing.

Isa blinked, then recognition flickered in her eyes. “Zuki?”

“The one and only,” he replied, his grin widening.

Before she could even think, Isa was across the room, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. She felt a rush of relief at seeing him—yet there was a nagging terror at the back of her mind. Zuki wasn’t supposed to be here, not in his real form, not now.

“I guess the magic worked. Where have you been? I didn’t think it would take you this long to get back to normal,” she asked, pulling back to look at him.

“I had a lot of unfinished business,” Zuki said, his expression turning slightly more serious. “Plus, someone’s been trying to dethrone me. Have you missed me?”

Isa rolled her eyes, dropping her robe and crawling back into bed. Zuki, as comfortable as ever, followed suit, removing his jacket and shoes before settling beside her.

“Why are you here?” Isa asked, her voice muffled by the pillows.

“Can’t I pay a visit to my dark queen?” Zuki teased.

“No,” Isa muttered, but she could hear the edge of a smile in her voice.

“Well, I’ve heard some interesting rumors in Hell. They say you met Seven.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He tried to bring me back,” Isa said, her tone flat. “But I wouldn’t let him. I’ve got some of my memories back, but with the way my father’s been acting, it won’t be long before they’re gone again.”

Zuki’s expression softened, and he gently brushed a strand of hair away from Isa’s face. “The world isn’t ready for you just yet.”

Isa looked away, a shadow crossing her features. “I know what everyone’s scared of. I remember them, and I promise you—they’re not a family I wish to return to.”

Zuki’s smile was sad but understanding. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before disappearing into a puff of red smoke, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Isa sighed, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. With the hole in her mind that Seven had ripped open, she couldn’t sleep without her past haunting her. She pulled her robe back on and made her way downstairs, debating whether to drink warm blood or a simple glass of milk. Halfway down the stairs, she noticed the light on in the room Jace had claimed.

Charles had always been careful, erasing Isa’s memories to ensure she wouldn’t notice when Jace changed. But Isa always noticed. It was subtle things—changes in his hair, his eyes, small details that shifted—but she always knew. This Jace, however, was different.

Isa poked her head into the room, finding him sitting on the edge of his cot, his hands pressed against his forehead as if lost in thought. When he looked up, his frown deepened at the sight of her.

“What do you want?” he asked, clearly irritated.

“Nothing. What’s wrong?” Isa asked, her voice sharp.

“None of your business,” Jace snapped, his voice colder than usual.

Isa narrowed her eyes. She had never heard him speak to her like that before. This one was different—resentful, distant. They’d always fought, but something was off about this version of Jace. The others had been ordered to follow Isa like obedient puppies, but this one...

“Has my father started you on Revain yet?” Isa asked, her gaze sharp.

“No,” Jace replied, but he was clearly uncomfortable.

“Good.”

Before Jace could react, Isa had him on the floor, straddling him and pinning him down with all of her weight. Jace struggled beneath her, trying to wriggle free, but Isa was a force to be reckoned with. When he realized he couldn’t move at all, his body stilled, and he gulped in fear. He’d heard the rumors of Isa’s previous assistants and what had happened to them.

Isa locked eyes with him, her gaze unflinching. “Who do you work for?”

“A man named Roberta Ciaro hired me to watch you,” Jace confessed, his voice strained.

“s**t,” Isa muttered, just as the door cracked open again.

The same delivery boy from earlier stepped into the room, offering a letter from the Fourth Division. Isa nodded for him to leave the letter on the cot, and he disappeared as quickly as he had come. Isa got off Jace, who lay there, still in shock, as she opened the letter.

My dearest Isa,

I am glad that you have considered my offer. I know it is much to ask, for you to leave everything behind and go on a mission without your father’s permission.

You must leave tonight. I have an informant who will meet you in the city center. She will have bright red hair and will be easy to recognize. Do not pack much and, if you can use magic, please change your appearance. I do not want anyone recognizing you.

Thank you again.

Isa folded the letter and stuffed it into her robe pocket. She looked at Jace one last time, her eyes calculating. Then, without another word, she rushed up to her room. With a flick of her wrist and a surge of her queen magic, she drastically changed her appearance. Packing light, she slipped out of the house. It wasn’t hard to do—Charles was absent, and the house was quiet.

Her escape had begun.