Chapter 4: The Vanguard of the Grand Hotel
Chapter 4: The Vanguard of the Grand Hotel
The Grand Hotel Valois—now renamed The Regent’s Crown—stood at the center of the city’s upper plaza, a massive monument of white granite, gold leaf, and towering arched windows. Twelve years ago, it had been the crown jewel of the Valois family. Tonight, it was hosting a grand banquet for Lord Alistair’s elite investors.
Leo and Lily slipped through the delivery entrance at the rear, dodging the busy kitchen staff who were preparing platters of roasted pheasant and truffles. They ran through the service corridors until they reached the main lobby’s back office.
Standing behind a grand mahogany desk was an elderly man in a pristine black tuxedo, his posture straight as an arrow despite his age. His name tag read: Marcus - Chief Concierge.
“Excuse me,” Leo panted, his breath ragged, his hands black from the coal dust. “Are you Marcus?”
Marcus looked over his desk, his aristocratic features frowning at the dirty children. “Young man, this area is strictly off-limits to civilians. Please exit before—”
Leo stepped forward and lifted Lily’s necklace, placing the silver phoenix directly onto the polished wood of the desk.
Marcus stopped speaking. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes widening as he stared at the emblem. He looked up, his gaze sweeping across Leo’s face, tracing the exact features of the Duke he had served for forty years.
“My lord,” Marcus whispered, his voice trembling as he immediately stepped out from behind the desk. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head deeply before the two ragged children. “You’ve come home.”
“Albert is in trouble,” Leo said desperately. “The guards took him at the bakery. They know who we are.”
Marcus’s expression hardened from an old servant into a fierce protector. “Then the time for hiding is over. The Regent is upstairs in the grand ballroom right now, celebrating with the corrupt judges and bankers who helped him steal your birthright. He thinks he is untouchable.”
Marcus stood up, walking to a hidden panel in the wall. He pulled a lever, and a secret compartment opened, revealing a collection of original corporate ledgers and a silver signaling horn.
“For twelve years, the loyal staff of this hotel, the bakery, and the banks have waited for this day,” Marcus said, a sharp, dangerous smile appearing on his face. “We kept the records. We tracked every dollar the Regent stole. And we stayed in our positions, waiting for the rightful heirs to return and claim the throne.”
Marcus blew the silver horn—a low, resonant note that vibrated through the hotel’s structural beams.
Within minutes, the service doors of the lobby opened. Chefs, doormen, maids, and accountants—dozens of staff members who had served the Valois family for decades—flooded into the office, their faces grim and determined.
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“My friends,” Marcus announced, pointing to Leo and Lily. “The bloodline has risen. The House of Valois stands before you. Shall we let the Regent finish his dinner?”
A collective, fierce murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. The shadow was about to be lifted, and the children were going to march into the light.
