Time/Date: Early Evening, TC1853.01.01
Location: Emberhall Estate → Servant Quarters
Last light of day turned Emberhall Pavilion into molten gold. The sprawling estate looked like something from an emperor's dreams instead of the harsh reality it actually was. Mansion rose from carefully tended fields like some gaudy crown meant to show off wealth to anyone passing by. Crimson banners flapped along fancy cornices that caught the dying sun, marble fountains sparkled with wheat-and-flame patterns, and that massive glass dome glowed as servants lit lanterns for tonight's festivities.
To people on the road, it probably looked like a real palace. To Raven, it was just a prison with bars made of expectations and cruelty.
She stopped at the main gates—bronze things covered in scenes of imperial victories and farming abundance. For a second, something stirred in her chest. This desperate urge to walk right through those carved doors like she belonged there, like she had every right to enter without sneaking around. Seven gold dragons pressed against her ribs, whispering that maybe she was strong enough now. Maybe wealthy enough to demand respect.
But cold logic crushed that thought fast. Her behavior this morning had already raised eyebrows among the staff. Push too hard, too fast, and they'd slam those walls shut around her before she could blink.
Not yet. A few more days. Just until she was strong enough to break the whole damn cage instead of rattling bars.
***
So she walked past the grand entrance with its fancy guards and polished marble steps. Walked past even the servants' gate, where house workers came and went under the head butler's watchful eye. She knew better. Too many beatings had taught her exactly what happened when you tried going through doors where you weren't wanted.
Instead, she followed the outer wall until she hit that particular hedge section. Looked just like all the others—thick greenery with pretty flowers that showed off the gardeners' skill. But Raven knew better. She'd made what was hidden there with her own desperate hands.
Tucked in the shadows was her secret way out: an old dog hole she'd spent years carefully widening. Her lifeline. The only way to slip free without guards, servants, or family asking questions she couldn't answer.
Before getting close, she crouched and sent out a thin thread of soul power. Enhanced awareness painted the world in life and movement that normal eyes couldn't see. Taxing work—those repairs had drained her reserves—but were necessary. Grounds shimmered in her inner sight, showing small animals' pulses, guards breathing at distant posts, night birds settling into roosts.
No human eyes around. No footsteps getting closer. Safe enough.
Raven dropped and wriggled through the opening, clothes catching on branches that'd grown since last time. Familiar scrape of bark against her back was almost comforting—proof some things stayed the same even when her world kept shifting.
The other side dumped her into the laundry yard behind steaming tubs and hanging linens that made a fabric maze. Few servants here at this hour, most off helping with the feast in the main dining hall, where the family would be celebrating the New Year with fancy food and wine that cost more than the family made in months. Kitchen workers who remained were too busy and tired to spare more than a glance at another figure moving through.
She slipped past like a ghost, heading for the narrow servants' stairs to the upper floors where unwanted household members got stashed. Her tiny attic room was steps away, sanctuary almost in reach, when a voice cracked through the air like a whip.
"Mara Brenner! How dare you only return now?"
***
Raven froze, hand inches from the stair rail. Every muscle tensed with that prey-recognizing-predator response. That voice belonged to one person in this house, and hearing it meant her hopes for a quiet evening were toast.
Selene.
Her mother swept into the hallway with a hunting serpent's fluid grace. Pale blue eyes burned with rage that seemed to heat the air. Dark hair was perfectly arranged despite the day's chaos, silk gown unmarked by domestic mess around lesser household members. Everything about her screamed wealth, refinement, and the kind of cold beauty that cut deeper than blades.
"You will kneel and beg Amara's forgiveness right now!" Selene's voice could cut glass, each word shaped to inflict maximum damage. "Think you can disrespect your betters like that? Don't you understand how fragile our position is? Edmund accepting us into this family was the greatest gift fate could give us. Want to see me cast aside, divorced, thrown in the street like some beggar?"
Tears gathered in her pale eyes as she pressed forward, voice rising in desperate theatrics that'd manipulated emotions for years. "Don't you remember how hard life was before this blessing? Ten months of agony carrying you! The pain, the sacrifice, the way my body changed forever! Because of you, my beloved Mara, my husband died—a cruel twist that left us alone in the world. That cursed birth robbed me of ever having another child! I have no other way to secure my place here, no other value. Can't you see? You owe me everything! Everything you are, everything you'll ever be!"
Same refrain she'd heard countless times. Same carefully crafted guilt chain wielded with surgical precision until it became an invisible cage. She'd heard these words so often she could mouth them before Selene spoke, could predict each pause, each calculated sob, each appeal to duty.
But tonight, with seven gold dragons against her ribs and memory of successful defiance still warm, something inside finally snapped.
Memory rose unbidden—Teacher Song's concerned face in her previous life. The woman's genuine care when she'd offered help, Raven had foolishly refused. Disappointment in those kind eyes when Mara turned away assistance, choosing instead to cling to the fantasy that Kael's love would somehow fix everything.
Such a fool then. So desperate for acceptance that she'd rejected the one person who actually tried to help.
She lifted her chin, meeting Selene's gaze directly for maybe the first time in years. When she spoke, her voice was steady and sharp, carrying weight that seemed to surprise even her.
"Mother... ever heard of the International Children Protection Act of TC1838?"
Selene blinked, thrown completely off balance. Theatrical tears faltered, confusion replacing calculation in pale eyes. "What... what nonsense are you talking about?"
Raven's lips curved in a smile with no warmth, only the cold satisfaction of someone who'd finally found the right weapon. "Just before Void Days, Teacher Song covered it in class. Emperor Xuán's declaration was pretty specific about protecting future leaders from harm."
She raised her sleeve, exposing the network of scars and welts crossing her pale skin like a map of systematic cruelty—some faded to silver lines, others still dark with recent violence. "Wonder, Mother, is this what Emperor Xuán meant by raising strong youth to hold the empire's banner?"
Color drained from Selene's face like someone had pulled a stopper. But her pale eyes blazed with fury that made the air shimmer. Perfectly controlled composure cracked, revealing venom that'd always lurked beneath.
"Why you little—!"
Hand rose, trembling with barely contained rage, but before she could finish the motion or curse, footsteps pounded wooden floorboards.
"Mother!" Amara's voice cut sharply as she ran into the hallway, golden hair streaming like a banner.
Selene's hand was still half-raised when Amara rushed between them, amber-gold eyes wide with apparent concern. "Mother, please! You must calm yourself. Getting upset over her isn't worth endangering your health."
Those eyes flicked to Raven and narrowed with calculated disapproval, though the voice stayed honey-sweet. "Mara, must you always provoke her? Can't you see how hard Mother works every day to keep us secure? She sacrifices comfort, desires, and you repay endless kindness with defiance. How can you be so ungrateful?"
***
Before this could continue its predictable path, another voice cut through the charged atmosphere.
"What's all this noise disturbing the evening peace?"
Imperial Heir Kael strode into the hallway with a presence that made rooms reorganize around him. Dark robes still carried incense and festival fire scents from whatever celebration he'd been at. Sharp features were set like someone whose patience had been tested beyond limits. His gaze swept the group before settling on Raven with disdain usually reserved for insects in food.
"You again," he said, voice carrying celestial authority despite his relatively young age. "Always at the heart of every disturbance, every moment of chaos in what should be a peaceful household."
Selene immediately shifted into wronged victim mode, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve while maintaining perfect posture. "Imperial Heir Kael, see how she treats me. The ingratitude, complete lack of respect for everything I've sacrificed—"
"Enough," Kael snapped, cutting through her performance with casual authority from celestial bloodline breeding. He stepped closer to Raven, considerable height casting a shadow that seemed to swallow her smaller form. "You'll apologize to your betters immediately. Show some gratitude for once in your miserable existence."
Raven lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with steady eyes holding no trace of expected submission. When she spoke, her voice carried clarity that seemed to cut through the evening air like a blade.
"As Imperial Heir of the ruling Xuán dynasty, you're surely well-versed in the International Children Protection Act of TC1838." She paused, lips curving in a smile with no warmth. "Though I suppose children of Celestial Families wouldn't need studying laws designed to protect commoners from abuse. Especially with the centennial war games approaching—wouldn't want questions about imperial fitness reaching the tournament grounds."
Kael's eyes narrowed dangerously, a sneer tugging at his mouth corners. "How dare you quote imperial law to me! As if I—next ruler of this empire—need lessons from a servant girl!"
"How strange," Raven tilted her head, words taking on a mocking, surprised tone. "Wonder what Emperor Xuán would think—his chosen successor suggesting protecting future warriors is beneath his concern." Her smile turned razor-sharp. "Course, you're only the next ruler if the Xuáns win again. Who knows? Maybe that 500-year winning streak is about to be broken."
She let implication hang like smoke from a funeral pyre. "Great protection of the empire's future strength, dismissed as meaningless chatter by one hoping to inherit the very authority those laws were proclaimed from."
Silence fell like a blade cutting through sound. Selene's breath hitched audibly, Amara's lips parted in shock, and even Kael's arrogant confidence faltered for a heartbeat. Accusation was subtle but devastating—questioning not just knowledge, but fundamental fitness to inherit imperial authority from the ruling Xuán bloodline.
***
Raven turned and started up the narrow servants' stair, back straight, steps unhurried. The weight of her defiance seemed to linger like a physical presence, pressing against those left behind.
Halfway up the stairs, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, almost casual, but carried through the silence like thunder rolling across summer skies.
"Oh, nearly forgot. Teacher Song mentioned she'll be making a routine home visit next week to check educational progress and... general welfare. She takes the Children's Protection Act quite seriously. Something about an empire needing strong future leaders."
Words dropped into stillness like stones cast into deep water, sending dread ripples across faces below. Teacher Song was known throughout the district as someone who'd personally removed students from harmful situations and seen guardians face imperial justice. More importantly, she represented the empire's genuine commitment to protecting future military assets.
With that perfectly timed revelation, Raven continued upstairs, leaving them speechless in the suddenly oppressive silence of Emberhall's servant quarters.
In her sleeve, seven gold dragons clinked softly with each step—proof she was no longer the powerless girl who'd once refused help from the only person who'd truly tried to offer it.