The name haunted me all day.
Rosen Ashborne.
Knight of the Last Flame.
Declared dead in the War of Five Seals.
Buried with honors and none of his bones.
Which meant he either never died… or never truly lived under that name to begin with.
I turned the name over again and again in my mind while Camden and I sat hunched over the palace genealogy logs, smuggled from the forbidden library two nights before. Pages blurred past: noble lineages, battle records, family crests long faded from the walls.
Finally, we found it.
A footnote in a volume dated 213 A.E.:
> "Rosen Ashborne, presumed killed in the breach at Solhaven Pass. Body unrecovered. Assets and land transferred to House Valorin. Records sealed by royal decree."
House Valorin.
A cadet branch of the crown's bloodline. Extinct. Or so they claimed.
I looked up. "What if Ashborne wasn't just buried? What if he was buried alive—beneath another name?"
Camden grimaced. "Then his descendants would carry not just his blood, but whatever... enchantment he tried to smother."
I stood. "Then we find them. Someone's still out there. They might not know who they are, but they exist."
"And if the High Cardinal finds them first?"
"Then he'll do what he does best," I said. "Silence the past."
---
Meanwhile, Kael watched the court crumble by inches.
The more he defended House Vale, the more enemies revealed themselves—not with swords, but with whispers.
Duke Belmere brought up ancient laws in open council. Lady Marwyn petitioned for a "restructuring" of noble house privileges. Even Kael's half-brother—Prince Corven—began floating rumors of Kael's mental instability in taverns just outside the capital.
So Kael did what few in power ever dared.
He started listening.
Not to nobles, but to servants. To guards. To the scholars Camden trained long ago in secret. He built his own little network in the shadows Seraphina had already begun clearing.
And through it, he learned two things:
1. A name: Vaylen—whispered in dreams by a maid who never met Seraphina.
2. A fact: The Queen herself was not truly of royal blood.
She had married into the crown under a false name. Her true origin had been erased.
And someone had gone to great lengths to keep it that way.
---
That night, I walked alone through the sculpture garden, the wind tugging at my cloak like a nervous child.
I needed air. Space. Sanity.
Instead, I found Scratch, waiting atop a fountain like a statue that learned how to smirk.
"You're not supposed to be out this late," I said.
He shrugged. "Neither are you. But you're prettier about it."
I sighed. "Why are you here?"
He tossed me a crumpled parchment. "Alchemist lady said it smelled wrong. Traced the ink back to the Lower Quarter. Came from a monastery. One that shouldn't have printing presses."
I opened it.
The paper was a replica of a royal decree—dated two weeks ago. A forged edict ordering my arrest, should anything happen to Kael.
Which meant someone was preparing to eliminate me... and blame it on grief.
I folded the note and tucked it into my coat. "Tell Dahlia to double the guards."
Scratch leaned in, voice unusually quiet. "You might not make it to the Festival, Lady V."
I met his gaze. "Then I'll make damn sure the truth does."
---
Far below the palace, the crypt walls shivered.
In a forgotten chamber, the Vault cracked open again—unbidden.
And the voice that slipped free was no longer a whisper.
> "Ashborne lives."
"The crown fears fire."
"And the last flame… is rising."
---
Next: In Chapter 12, Seraphina follows a lead into the monastery of the Lower Quarter and uncovers the possible identity of Rosen Ashborne's great-granddaughter. Meanwhile, Kael confronts his mother, Queen Amelthea, and demands the truth about her origin—only to find that she, too, has been bound by blood.
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