Chapter 104: Failed Trap
A Royal Courier arrived at seven in the morning.
A thin man in a powdered wig stood at the front door. He wore a miserable, humorless expression and held up a golden envelope sealed in red wax.
"For Team Soup," he said, acting very proper. "A formal invitation from the House of Oscar."
Holden took the envelope. The courier bowed stiffly and left without another word.
Inside the villa, everyone gathered around the table as Holden broke the seal.
"Tonight," he read aloud. "The Royal Family extends its warmest welcome to all visiting academy teams at a formal gala in the Grand Ballroom of the Crown Embassy. Formal attire required. Attendance is strongly encouraged."
He set the card down.
"It’s a trap," Emric said immediately. He was still in his sleepwear, but his eyes were sharp behind his glasses. "The timing alone is suspicious. The combat brackets begin tomorrow morning. A late-night social event designed to drain our energy and lower our guard before the most important fights of our lives."
"Obviously a trap," Renna agreed, her arms crossed. "Why would the people who want us dead throw us a party? Unless the party is the murder!"
"We have to go," Lyra said quietly.
Everyone looked at her.
"If we decline," she continued, "the Royal Family will frame it as an insult to the Crown. Under tournament law, that gives them grounds to file a formal complaint of disrespect. The review board would have to at least consider disqualification."
"So we walk into a trap because saying no is also a trap," Renna said. "Great. I love this."
"Get dressed," Holden said. "We leave in two hours."
None of them owned formal Capital attire.
Luckily, Lyra handled it. She’d grown up surrounded by noble society, and even though she’d turned her back on most of it, she still knew how to deal with high-end tailors and boutiques. She returned to the villa an hour later with bags full of clothing and a determined expression.
"Emric, yours is the gray vest. Renna, the green dress, and please do not rip it. Holden, yours is in the black bag."
Holden took the bag to his room and opened it.
Inside was a nice black suit. Tailored jacket, crisp white shirt, dark trousers, polished shoes.
He put it on, looked in the mirror, and barely recognized himself.
The slum kid was gone. The reflection looking back at him could have passed for a minor noble. Sharp jaw, broad shoulders, dark hair pushed back from his face.
He walked out of his room.
Lyra was waiting in the hallway, adjusting one of her earrings. She turned to say something, stopped, and went very still.
A deep red blush spread across her cheeks.
"You look... all right," she said, clearing her throat.
Holden raised an eyebrow. "All right? I dress up like this and all I get is all right?"
"You look good," she said quickly, her face still red. "Very good. I mean, it’s not like I was checking you out. I just... you look nice.""
Holden smiled. "You don’t look so bad yourself."
Lyra was wearing a deep blue gown that matched her eyes. Her hair was pinned up with silver clips. She looked like she had stepped out of a painting.
"I look nice?" She raised an eyebrow. "That’s your only response?"
"Do you want me to say all right instead?"
She hit his arm lightly, but she was smiling.
The Grand Ballroom of the Crown Embassy was a cathedral of wealth.
Big crystal chandeliers hung down from a ceiling that showed paintings of royal wars. Marble pillars stood all around the room. A live band played soft music from a high stage. Hundreds of rich people walked around the floor in fancy silk clothes and jewels, and their laughing echoed off the gold-trimmed walls.
Team Soup walked in together.
The moment they stepped in, the vibe in the room changed entirely. Conversations cut short. Heads snapped around. And the whispering started.
"That’s them."
"The slum team."
"The one who paralyzed the prince."
Holden kept his expression neutral, but his 10,000x senses were already working.
Something was wrong.
Everything looked fine. The room was perfect, the food smelled great, and the wine sparkled in crystal glasses. But Holden’s enhanced perception caught it immediately.
His skin felt tingly, and he could feel a strange pressure inside him. His 10,000x multiplier read the feeling instantly and warned him something was wrong.
It was spiritual energy, dispersed through the air. Invisible, scentless, and flavorless.
Poison.
A Rank 2 slow poison designed to seep into people’s meridians all evening. By dawn, anyone who breathed it for an hour would have their energy channels blocked up, slashing their combat strength by thirty percent.
On the day of the tournament.
Holden casually tapped his earpiece.
"Maeve. You there?"
Her voice came through instantly. "I’m in the room. I’ve been monitoring the villa’s security feeds. What’s wrong?"
"The air in this ballroom is laced with spiritual poison. Can you access the gala’s catering network? I need to know what we’re dealing with."
"Give me thirty seconds."
Across the room, Prince Oscar’s mother, Queen Regana, approached with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She wore a gown of white and gold, her crown catching the chandelier light.
"Ah, Team Soup! How wonderful of you to join us!" Her voice was sweet as honey. "We simply had to welcome our guest students properly. I do hope the trip wasn’t too terribly exhausting."
"Not at all, Your Highness," Holden said, returning the smile. "Though I have to say, the welcome here has been truly breathtaking."
He inhaled slightly, letting the poison tingle across his tongue.
"Quite literally."
Queen Regana’s smile didn’t waver. "Do enjoy the refreshments. We spared no expense."
"Got it," Maeve said in his ear. "Blood-Lotus Extract. It’s a classic noble poison. Seeps in through the lungs and skin. Takes about four hours to fully set in."
"Antidote?"
"Working on it. The catering list includes ingredient manifests for every dish and drink being served tonight. Cross-referencing now..."
Holden tuned back into the Queen’s pleasant conversation. She was saying something about the honor of competition.
"How fascinating," he said politely.
"There!" Maeve’s voice sharpens. "Blood-Lotus Extract is neutralized by concentrated Azureberry compounds. It’s a natural chemical reaction. The antidote compounds are present in three items on the buffet."
"Which ones?"
"The silver platter at the far left. The small blue pastries, the dark purple juice, and the candied nuts in the glass bowl. Eat or drink any one of those and you’ll be fully immunized within minutes."
Holden scanned the room and found the buffet. The silver platter sat against the far wall, surrounded by other dishes that were almost certainly safe but wouldn’t help.
"Team," Holden said under his breath. "Buffet. Now. Follow my lead."
They walked over to the table. Holden picked up a small plate and loaded it with three blue pastries, a glass of dark purple juice, and a handful of candied nuts. He handed the plate to Renna.
"Eat," he said.
"But I wanted the chocolate cake," she whispered.
"Eat the blue ones first. Trust me."
He grabbed his own plate and did the same, popping a candied nut in his mouth as he turned back to face the room.
Queen Regana was watching them from across the ballroom, her smile still perfectly in place.
Holden raised his purple juice glass toward her in a silent toast.
"Your wine is fantastic, Your Highness," he called out, loud enough for nearby nobles to hear. "Tastes like treason."
Queen Regana’s smile broke for just a second.
A few nobles nearby choked on their drinks.
Holden sipped his juice and felt the Azureberry compounds wash through his system, neutralizing the poison that had already begun to seep into his meridians.
Beside him, Lyra ate a blue pastry politely. Emric ate his nuts one by one, very carefully. Renna put two pastries in her mouth at once and grabbed another one.
"Slow down," Lyra murmured.
"They’re actually really good!" Renna said through a full mouth.
Queen Regana turned her back and walked away. Her white dress swept across the floor as she went back to the VIP section.
Holden watched her go and took another sip of juice.
The trap had failed.