The west garden held its breath long after Lysa Venor had left. Kael stood beneath the trellis where jasmine traced the stone arch. He watched the path she had taken vanish into shadow, then lifted his eyes toward the palace windows. Lights flickered there like thoughts the house had not yet decided to keep. He took a slow breath. Everfell felt attentive tonight. Not restless. Not warning. Waiting.
As Kael turned to leave, the bushes to his right rustled. He drew the knife Seraphina had given him. A shadow stepped through moonlight. For a heartbeat, he tensed, expecting Maeron or one of his cloaked followers. But it was a guard. One of Kael's own. A young man with wide eyes and a face too honest for deception. "Your Highness," the guard said quickly, bowing so fast he nearly stumbled, "a message came for you." Kael lowered the blade slightly. "From whom?" "It was left at the gate. No signature. But… the house reacted when I touched it." Kael took the folded paper. The seal was plain, pressed without a crest. Inside were only four words, written in a hurried script. He knows about her. Kael's pulse tightened. "Who delivered it?" "No one saw," the guard said. "It was placed on the stone just before dawn. The gatekeeper said he felt watched." Kael dismissed him with instructions to remain alert. The moment the guard disappeared, Kael scanned the garden. The moon cut the hedges into silver and shadow. The air tasted metallic, like rain trapped in stone. If Maeron knew about Seraphina's connection to Everfell, the danger was now doubled.
When Kael returned to the palace, Seraphina waited for him in the outer hall. Not standing. Not pacing. Sitting on the step with her arms resting over her knees. It was an uncommon posture for her. She looked up when he approached. "You were watched," she said. He stopped. "How do you know?" "Everfell does not like the man in blue. When he listens, the walls grow still." Kael handed her the note. She read it once, then folded it in her palm. "This does not say what he knows. Only that he knows something." "He suspects you," Kael said. "He has seen the house respond to you. He knows you carry pieces of what he wanted destroyed." Seraphina remained still for several seconds. Not afraid. Not shaken. Thinking. "If he fears me, he will move faster. Men who fear truth often act before they understand it." Kael nodded. "We need to keep you away from him." She stood. "No. You need to keep the house safe. It chose to speak. That makes it vulnerable." "You are part of that choice," Kael said. "That makes you vulnerable." Her expression softened for a fraction. "Then we will protect each other."
They walked together through the corridor where the mirrors had shown Elira. The walls no longer reflected stormlight. They reflected only themselves. But the air held memory like a scent. Kael stopped at one mirror and looked at his reflection. It stared back, clear and untroubled, yet he sensed the residue of what had appeared there before. Seraphina touched the mirror beside him. "It is quieter tonight," she said. "Quieter is not better," Kael replied. "Quieter means holding breath." Seraphina stepped closer to him. "Then we should breathe for it."
Foret arrived then, carrying the ledger pressed to his chest. "The vessels are changing," he said without preamble. "I checked the sealed room. Two of the bottles have warmed. One pulse is stronger." Kael tensed. "Elira's." Foret nodded. "If the house gathers enough memory, something will happen. I do not know what shape it will take." Seraphina looked at the mirror. "The shape will not be dangerous unless someone forces it." Foret lowered his voice. "Maeron is pressing council members for an emergency decree. He wants the authority to search private rooms. He claims Everfell hides a threat." Kael felt his jaw tighten. "He means her." Foret swallowed. "He means anything that belongs to her." Kael looked at Seraphina. "We need to move now. Before he gathers enough signatures." Seraphina stepped away from the mirror. "Where?" "To the archives," Kael said. "There is a record room beneath the scriptorium. If Maeron tries to erase traces of the past, he will start there." Foret paled. "The scriptorium is not safe at night." Kael held his gaze. "Neither are lies."
The three of them moved through passageways that seemed to fold inward as night deepened. The air cooled near the scriptorium. The scent of old parchment grew thick enough to taste. At the base of the stairs, the corridor opened into a chamber lined with shelves that reached the ceiling. Lanterns burned at every corner, unusually bright for that hour. Too bright. Kael paused. "Someone is here." Seraphina raised a hand. The house shifted around her in a way that startled even Kael. The lantern flames bent. The air stilled. A draft carried a single sound: a page turning. Not gently. Violently. Kael stepped forward with the knife in his hand. They turned the corner.
A figure in blue stood over the central table, rifling through scrolls and tearing out pages when he found something that displeased him. Maeron did not look up at first. He was speaking under his breath. "Silence. Silence. Silence must be maintained." When he finally sensed their presence, he looked up slowly. His expression did not show guilt. Only irritation. "You have chosen the wrong night to test me," he said. "And you have chosen the wrong truth to bury," Kael replied. Maeron held a torn scroll in his hand. "The Saint was a threat. What she carried was a threat. What remains is a threat. This house is a threat." Seraphina stepped forward. "And yet you fear it like a child." Maeron's eyes burned with contained fury. "I fear nothing. I correct mistakes. The Saint was a mistake the kingdom cannot afford to repeat." Kael moved between him and Seraphina. "Her memory is not yours to mutilate." Maeron's voice sharpened. "It was your father who permitted the separation. Do not pretend your line is innocent." Kael's grip tightened on the knife. "I intend to correct that." Maeron stepped toward him. "Then you cannot remain prince."
Before Kael could react, Maeron hurled the torn scroll onto the table and reached inside his cloak. Seraphina gasped. Kael lunged forward. But the house moved first. Every lantern in the scriptorium extinguished at once. A single pulse of darkness struck the chamber like a held breath released. The shelves groaned. The walls tightened. The air pulsed with a force that made Maeron stumble. Seraphina grabbed Kael's arm. Foret dropped to his knees, covering his ears. A light flickered behind them. Not lantern light. A soft blue glow from the corridor. A pulse. Then another. The same rhythm as the vessels. The same rhythm as the memory in glass.
Kael whispered, "She is awake." Seraphina's voice trembled in awe. "Not fully. But enough to defend herself." Maeron staggered backward. "This is corruption," he hissed. "This is unnatural." Kael advanced slowly. "This is consequence." Maeron's eyes darted to the exit. He turned and fled. The blue glow followed him for several steps like a warning. Then it dimmed. The scriptorium fell silent.
Seraphina looked at Kael. "The house has chosen its side." Kael took her hand. "So have we." Foret stood shakily. "He will return with the council." Kael nodded. "Then we will be ready." Seraphina tightened her grip. "And so will she."