The meeting finally dispersed.
Livyat and her companions returned to the carriage, but did not hurry to leave.
There was no point in rushing; Garden Avenue was “gridlocked.”
The luxurious carriages of the nobles and dignitaries had to wait in line, one after another, for their turn to depart.
Even the junior staff had been mobilized to help coordinate traffic, pulling apart the lords and ladies quarreling over who was more qualified to merge onto the main road first.
Or mediating disputes caused when carriages parked too close and scraped each other, damaging wheels or decorations—doing their best to keep these spats from devolving into flashy displays of wealth.
In the end, aren’t these lords just making trouble for everyone?
Livyat thought to herself.
Tesvelan looked at the two before her with obvious displeasure—especially at Julia, who looked so sweet that she seemed to have grown younger by a few years.
Who would have expected that Julia would feign illness, let Livyat help her into the carriage, and then naturally end up pressed right up against her?
She even leaned on Livyat’s shoulder!
Just like Tesvelan had done before.
Is she some sort of copycat?
Interesting.
“Hey. Lady Julia, enough with the frail act. All this pretentious posturing, as if you were an eighteen-year-old maiden.”
Julia raised her eyebrows, her expression subtle, as if to say the comment was rather amusing.
“Princess Tesvelan, I have to say, if we’re talking about looking young, aren’t elves the best at it? Ask carefully and no one knows how many hundreds of years you’ve lived! I actually know Liv’s age. But you? If I recall, Regent Lalorvea, you were already queen over three hundred years ago, weren’t you?”
Tesvelan nearly punched the woman before her, just to show her what she was really capable of.
But with Livyat watching her anxiously, she could only suppress her anger.
“I’m not that old. I’m my mother’s youngest daughter. You, on the other hand, are the eldest daughter of the Laguangs family. Understood, old woman?”
Snap.
Julia abruptly sat up and leaned forward, her gaze cold and beautiful as she stared at Tesvelan.
Tesvelan glared back, neither side yielding in the slightest.
Livyat quickly wedged herself between them.
She wasn’t emotionally clueless—she knew full well this was her own fault.
But what could she do?
With matters of state and military pressing, if she casually agreed to one or the other, her “intern” queen days would be over for good.
Just as she was wracking her brains for words to ease the tension, a sharp, ear-splitting bang—unlike anything she’d ever heard—nearly tore her mind into a straight line.
Memories from her past life told her this sound, dozens of times louder than firecrackers, could only be one thing: a gunshot, not far away.
After a brief, stunned silence outside the carriage, screaming, roaring, crying, and the frantic sound of fleeing footsteps broke out in all directions.
Tesvelan shoved Livyat toward the street side, shielding her with her body.
She immediately opened the carriage’s storage compartment, pulling out a short pistol that looked ready-loaded.
Julia used her own body to block the side curtain, then spoke in a low voice to the coachman outside, “What’s happening? Quickly, drive us to a safe place!”
The coachman was an old retainer of the Laguangs family.
Loyal as ever, he didn’t flee or panic, but answered, “Miss, a junior clerk fired a shot at a carriage not far ahead of us. Then he escaped into the chaos.”
“Who was it? Whose carriage?”
Julia’s voice suddenly grew tense.
“Miss, I couldn’t tell. But clearly it’s bad—the blood is already dripping from the bottom of the carriage.”
Julia pressed her hand to her forehead in silence for a moment, then said, “We stay here. Don’t move the carriage, and don’t get out. We’ll wait for the guards to take over, then follow their instructions to leave.”
The chaos outside persisted, carriages lurching wildly and crashing into each other.
Someone even seemed to have been struck and run over amid the confusion.
Clearly, the nobles were scared out of their wits by the gunshot.
And it made sense—if this wasn’t a lone wolf, there might well be a second or third gun at the scene.
Livyat stared nervously out the window, shielded by the two.
Bang!
Almost on the heels of the first, a second loud noise sounded—this time, it didn’t quite sound like a gunshot.
That couldn’t be good.
Sure enough, soon thick smoke began to seep into the carriage.
Fire! Something in the avenue outside had been set alight!
The coachman, manners forgotten, flung open the front curtain and shouted, “Miss, a carriage in the traffic jam up ahead has exploded and caught fire!”
Tesvelan instantly yelled to the coachman, “Head for the council hall! Drive straight up the steps to the main door—let’s get out the other side!”
With Julia’s prompt nod of agreement, the coachman expertly turned the horses toward the council entrance.
The carriage rattled violently as it bounced up the stairs, nearly shaking itself apart.
Tesvelan and Julia shielded Livyat tightly as the carriage lurched to a stop at the council doors.
At last, the battered left wheel collapsed, and the carriage tipped onto its side.
Tesvelan leapt out first, gun in hand, alert for danger.
Livyat followed, helping the exhausted Julia down.
Bang!
A third thunderous boom.
Only then did they see it clearly—a cannonball had slammed into a building on Garden Avenue, blasting it apart with deafening force.
The entire structure collapsed in a shower of splintered wood and shattered brick, debris tumbling down, crushing a carriage beneath it before the driver could flee.
Naval artillery.
Only naval guns could strike at such an angle, with such power.
Was the navy rebelling!?
The coachman drew his dagger, telling the ladies to run ahead while he covered their retreat.
They hurried into the council hall and made for a side exit.
The guards at the council usually only escorted the Governor and Prince to the governor’s mansion after meetings, where a state banquet awaited.
Julia’s father, Domenico, would also be present.
At this hour, there were no fully armed soldiers inside or outside the council hall.
As they ran, Livyat thought: if this is a coup, it’s the perfect timing.
But if it is a coup, killing a few councilors or nobles would be pointless.
The most important—Governor and Prince—are still perfectly safe right now.
At the side door, Tesvelan kicked it open and took the lead, gun at the ready.
Julia and the coachman brought up the rear, keeping Livyat safe in the middle.
Tesvelan had barely stepped outside when curved blades swung down from both sides, swift and heavy.
With her elven eyes, Livyat caught everything in a single instant.
Tesvelan pressed her right hand to her chest and fired a deadly shot to the left.
In the next instant, she caught the hilt of the blade chopping down from her left, spun it deftly, and stabbed hard to her right, striking backhand.
In a flash of steel, both ambushers on either side fell dead.