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Ericka offered a resolute nod, the soft light of the laboratory casting her auburn locks in a radiant halo. "I am dead serious. And I\'ll be leaving at the end of this year for Atlantia. I\'ve officially been nominated to work for Project Genesis. If successful, it\'ll change the entire world!"

Seraphine\'s mind raced with questions. "Atlantia? You mean you\'re actually going there? Why didn\'t you tell me this sooner? And what about coming back? Can you even return once you leave?"

With a gesture that was both elegant and final, Ericka confirmed her path. "Indeed, I am bound for Atlantia. My expertise in microbiology is crucial in the success for this project. As for my return, the future is as yet unwritten. But know this—I\'ll be leading Project Genesis, directly supervised by Dr.

Mercer," Setting aside her scientific implements, Ericka leaned back against a lab desk, the announcement of her plans resounding in the quiet like a decree.

"And what of this Project Genesis? Why the sudden commitment when you\'ve previously declined their Project Icarus?" Seraphine\'s suspicion was palpable, her gaze probing.

Ericka was known for her independence, her reluctance to align with external agendas.

What shift had occurred within her to alter her course?

This wasn\'t the first time Prometheus had extended an offer to her, but she had rejected it previously.

Ericka\'s lips curled into a faint smile as she spoke, "This time, it\'s different."

Seraphine leaned in, intrigued. "And how\'s that?"

Ericka\'s eyes gleamed with determination. "This time — I would be leading. And it\'s not just another one of their attempts to control the world; they\'re actually crafting something that could reshape the very fabric of reality we know."

Seraphina\'s eyebrows shot up in disbelief; she struggled to comprehend it all.

Undeterred, Ericka pressed on, her voice tinged with excitement. "I know you won\'t believe me, but what if I told you we\'ve already achieved immortality?"

Seraphine\'s eyes narrowed, her skepticism evident. But before she could respond, Ericka continued eagerly. "Yes, you heard it right. Dr. Mercer and her teams have unearthed a substance that can extend human lifespan, though it\'s in limited supply!"

Ericka\'s words hung in the air, charged with possibility. "This project aims to replicate it, and as long as we succeed..."

Seraphine interjected, her tone dubious. "Huh... Nothing would happen. It\'s probably just one of their cheap tricks to grab attention."

Ericka met Seraphine\'s skepticism with unwavering resolve. "You can choose to believe or not, but I\'m diving in headfirst."

Seraphine\'s voice crackled with frustration, "So you\'re just going to ignore me?"

Ericka heaved a weary sigh, her words heavy with reluctance, "Sera, it\'s not that I don\'t want to protect them too, but I\'ve tried, and they\'re just... stubborn. Insistent on keeping it to themselves. If that\'s the case, maybe you should address her directly. If she still has any sense, she\'ll understand. Or how about bringing Magnus into the conversation?

The girls seem to listen to him more."

"..."

Seraphine fell into a tense silence, her expression unreadable.

Then, with a sharp inhale, she raised a suspicious brow and fixed her gaze on Ericka. "Are you abandoning them?"

!!

Ericka stammered, caught off guard by the accusation, unable to meet Seraphine\'s eyes. "W-What are you talking about?"

Seraphine\'s eyes flickered with certainty. "I knew it!" she declared, her voice laced with conviction. She had sensed something was off all along, and now, seeing Ericka\'s evasion, her suspicions were confirmed.

This woman was planning to abandon everyone and flee!

"Ahem... Guys... I found this outside the door." Amidst Seraphine\'s accusations, another figure descended the stairs, taken aback by the tense atmosphere. He cleared his throat, presenting them with a sealed red envelope. "Did any of you drop this?" he inquired, casting a glance towards them.

He was Magnus Bjørson, a contradiction to his name; slender in stature, clad in a gray coat, his hair a blend of blonde and white, impeccably styled in a professional cut.

With the monarchy and government closely intertwined in Norhaven, Magnus, the king of Norhaven, often participated in discussions concerning the nation\'s future laws as part of an advisory council.

Ericka swiftly regained her composure, offering a warm smile. "Please, put it on the desk," she gestured towards the cluttered desk, strewn with various vials of liquids.

"Of course," Magnus murmured, placing the envelope silently on the desk. His gaze lingered on Seraphine, who shot him a glare before hurriedly retreating.

"I never liked this guy," Seraphine muttered as Magnus exited.

Ericka countered, "Who do you even like? You don\'t like anyone, and to this day, you haven\'t provided a genuine reason for hating Magnus."

Seraphine crossed her arms defiantly. "I don\'t need a reason to hate anyone."

"Whatever, Miss Arrogant Queen. If there\'s anything else I can help you with, please let me know before the end of this year. And if you want to talk to Freya, she should be back soon." Ericka sighed and moved to the table to retrieve the letter. Her brows shot up in surprise as she noticed it wasn\'t addressed to anyone specific, and the packaging looked remarkably extraordinary and unique.

Seraphine observed Ericka intently, her eyes narrowed, a silent smirk playing at her lips as she contemplated teaching Ericka a lesson.

In her mind, any man was better than Marcus — even the beggars on the street — and she was determined to prove it.

As Ericka pulled out the letter from the envelope, her eyes narrowed further. It contained a plain sheet of paper, of very premium quality, but its color theme was strikingly unique.

Completely red, with flames flaring up.

"Hey, Sera, do you know someone called the 8th Prince?" Ericka questioned, her curiosity piqued.

"What?" Seraphine blurted out involuntarily.

Ericka gestured toward the letter. "I don\'t know, but it\'s addressed to someone named 8th Prince. Do you know anyone with that name?"

Seraphine shrugged dismissively. "The letter must be some kind of prank or delivered to the wrong address," she scoffed.

Ericka nodded, setting it aside with a puzzled expression.

She couldn\'t fathom any queen having more than five sons, let alone naming one "8th Prince."