The morning sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of Evernight Manor, casting jewel-toned patterns across the freshly scrubbed floors. The servants had spent days removing every trace of the ramyeon rebellion, though the occasional noodle still turned up in unexpected places—like the chandelier, or Cedric's boot.
Evangeline sat supported in her highchair, gnawing on a teething ring shaped like a tiny sword. Across the hall, Sir Loin the Indigestible rolled past, his massive meatball form now adorned with a miniature saddle and bridle. Cedric jogged behind him, shouting encouragement as the meatball flattened a decorative suit of armor without slowing.
"That's it, Sir Loin! Charge!"
The duchess sighed, rubbing her temples.
"We're going to need more fabrics."
Beneath the castle, where the air smelled of damp stone and forgotten spices, a hooded figure knelt before a bubbling cauldron. The broth within was darker than midnight, its surface swirling with unnatural currents.
A sleek black cat emerged from the shadows, emerald eyes glinting in the dim torchlight.
"The Evernights grow complacent," the cat purred, tail flicking with disdain. "Whiskerton's arrogance will be his undoing."
The figure lifted a goblet, letting the black liquid drip into a waiting vial.
"Then let us remind them of the cost of arrogance."
The cat—Ebony—took the vial between her teeth and vanished into the darkness.
Evangeline's pacifier had been acting strangely all morning. It pulsed with an erratic pink glow, occasionally emitting bursts of static that sounded suspiciously like EX' ACT's "Love Me Not."
When Woohyun's hologram suddenly materialized during her bath, singing "Call Me Daddy" while floating above the soap bubbles, even the nursemaids paused.
"That's... new," one muttered, reaching to pluck the hologram out of the air. Her hand passed right through it.
Evangeline giggled, splashing water everywhere.
Lord Whiskerton, observing from his velvet pillow, yawned.
"If it starts charging rent, we're evicting it."
Ebony slipped through the castle like a shadow, avoiding guards and ducking into the kitchens where Marcel labored under Lucien's watchful eye. The chef stirred a pot of stew, his shoulders hunched with resentment.
"A gift," Ebony murmured, dropping the vial into his apron pocket before vanishing.
Marcel's fingers closed around the glass. He hesitated only a moment before emptying it into the stew. The broth darkened instantly, swirling with an unnatural gleam.
Lucien, nose buried in his ledger, didn't notice.
The dining hall was filled with laughter and clinking cutlery when Marcel brought out the first tureen of Black Broth stew.
"A new recipe," he announced, ladling a generous portion onto the duke's plate.
Duke Cassian took a hearty bite—and froze. His eyes flickered, the whites darkening to pitch black for a heartbeat before returning to normal.
"Delicious," he said, voice oddly hollow.
Evangeline's pacifier blared an alarm, projecting [DANGER: CORRUPTION DETECTED] in glowing letters across the table.
The duchess frowned.
"Cassian?"
He didn't answer, already reaching for another serving.
Ebony found Whiskerton in the treasury, laying atop a pile of gold coins like a self-satisfied dragon.
"Your reign ends tonight," she hissed, unsheathing claws that gleamed with venom.
Whiskerton didn't bother standing.
"Darling, I invented reigns. Also, venom is so last season."
They clashed in a whirl of fur and fury, knocking over priceless artifacts and sending jewels skittering across the floor. Whiskerton feinted left, then swiped at Ebony's nose.
"You fight well," he admitted, leaping onto a higher pile of coins. "For a knockoff."
By nightfall, the corruption had spread. Servants moved like puppets, their eyes glazed black. The duke stood in the nursery doorway, his grip bruising on Evangeline's tiny arm.
"Join us," he intoned, voice layered with something deeper, darker. "Or perish."
Tears welled in Evangeline's eyes. Her pacifier pulsed erratically, torn between defending her and obeying its wielder. Outside, the castle echoed with the moans of broth-zombies, their footsteps shuffling closer.
Somewhere beneath it all, the cauldron bubbled, and the hooded figure smiled.