Time/Date: Night, TC1853.01.09 → Early Morning, TC1853.01.10
Location: Brenner Estate, Emberhall Pavilion
Selene jolted awake, her silk nightgown soaked through with cold sweat.
Had nothing to do with temperature—that much she knew. The familiar luxury of her chambers felt wrong somehow. Foreign. Like she'd stolen her way into someone else's life and was only now realizing the original owner might come back.
The expensive carpets. The elegant furniture. That priceless art she'd spent years collecting. All of it seemed to be mocking her now, whispering things she didn't want to hear. Things about foundations built on sand and lies, and absolutely nothing solid beneath.
Which (depending on how you looked at it) was probably closer to the truth than she'd ever let herself admit.
Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her chest, feeling for her heartbeat. Needed that reassurance—body and soul still connected, still hers. But the phantom sensation of those hooks remained. An echo of spiritual violation that just... wouldn't fade.
She could still feel them. The weight of the chains. The burn of karmic fire. That terrible certainty of cosmic judgment hanging over her like an executioner's blade that was taking its sweet time falling.
The blood oath ceremony.
The cosmic law recordings.
By tomorrow—no, scratch that, by this morning, given how close to dawn it had to be—every noble house in the empire would know. DNA tests would follow. Had to. The SIS investigation would uncover every connection, every carefully buried secret, every convenient lie.
There was no hiding anymore. No clever scheme that could bury what had been exposed.
Unable to sleep, unable to face the darkness behind her closed eyes where those masked judges still waited, Selene wrapped herself in a heavy robe and made her way through the manor's corridors. Each step felt weighted. Like those phantom chains were still dragging behind her, getting heavier with every moment.
Growing heavier.
Edmund sat behind his desk, still fully dressed despite the late hour. Papers and communication devices were scattered around him like he'd been trying to find answers in paperwork. The expression on his weathered face told her everything—sleep had been just as elusive for him.
When he looked up, she saw something in his hazel eyes she'd never seen before.
Not anger. Not disappointment.
But this kind of weary resignation that was somehow worse than either. Like he'd finally stopped fighting something he'd been avoiding for years.
"The blood oath ceremony," he said. No preamble, no greeting. Just facts delivered in that flat tone exhaustion brings. "The cosmic law recordings are already being disseminated through official channels. By tomorrow—" He caught himself. "By today, really. Every noble house in the empire's going to know that Amara isn't who we said she was. That our family's been built on lies for seventeen years."
Selene sank into the chair across from his desk. Her hands were trembling—betraying the composure she was desperately trying to maintain. "Edmund, there are things I never told you. Things about the early years, about how Mara came to us..."
"I suspected something was wrong." He said it quietly, looking down at the documents scattered across his desk. Years of merchant calculations. Trade agreements. Careful planning. All of it rendered completely meaningless by secrets he'd been too afraid to confront.
"Mara never looked like either of us. Me and Eveline. Not really."
He paused, and she could see him working through old memories.
"I tried to convince myself it was just... that she took after some distant relative, you know? Or that children sometimes don't resemble their parents. People say that. It happens." Another pause. "But deep down..."
He finally looked up at her. The pain in his eyes made her breath catch.
"I thought maybe our daughter—mine and Eveline's—had died." The admission came out raw. "And that you'd... substituted another child. To spare me the grief, perhaps. Or to maintain the story we'd already told. Keep everything neat and tidy."
His voice dropped. "I told myself it didn't matter because I loved you. Because questioning it would destroy everything we'd built. But it does matter, doesn't it?"
He leaned forward slightly.
"There's more to this story than just a sick child being replaced."
Selene's composure cracked. Years of buried guilt demanding expression in a rush of words that wanted to tumble out all at once.
But they stuck.
Choking her.
How could she explain? How could she possibly make him understand the depths of what she'd done?
"The swap happened during Void Season," she began. Voice barely audible. "In the final days of TC1835. There were... there were multiple babies born. Within less than a week."
Edmund went very still. That merchant's mind of his immediately recognizing the significance of timing. "Multiple babies? Selene, what are you saying?"
She forced herself to continue. Each word feeling like shards of glass cutting her throat. "On the fifth day of Cycle 36, during Frost Season, I gave birth to Amara."
The admission felt like poison leaving her system. Bitter but necessary.
"Four days later, on the ninth day, Eveline gave birth—to your daughter with her."
"And you helped me switch them," Edmund said slowly. Memory clearly painful. "To legitimize Amara's birth. To give her the status she deserved. You told me it was the only way, that Eveline would never know, that it was for the best, and I agreed because I owed you."
He stood abruptly. Chair scraping against the floor with a sound that seemed too loud in the pre-dawn stillness.
"I thought that was the extent of it. I agreed to present Amara as Eveline's daughter, to give her noble legitimacy." His voice carried this weight of old decisions made for what seemed like good reasons at the time. "You said you would take Eveline's baby—take Elara—somewhere far away where she'd be raised properly. Where she'd have a good life."
"I was going to," Selene whispered.
But the words lacked conviction even to her own ears.
"I had a bag packed, a ticket to the western provinces. I was on my way to the train station when I heard..."
She trailed off.
Edmund's intelligence—that sharp, practical mind that had built commercial empires—immediately caught the hesitation. "Heard what?"
"That Caelia had been rushed to a local hospital."
The confession came out in broken pieces. Fragments of truth she'd never intended to reveal.
"I was carrying Elara—I was heading to the train station in the Fifth District. And suddenly there were people rushing past. Talking about how Caelia Lin had been brought to the district hospital in emergency labor."
Edmund went very still. His weathered face cycling through shock, confusion, and then this dawning horror that made his next question come out flat and dangerous.
"Caelia lives in the Second District. She would've had access to the finest private clinics in the empire." He paused, eyes narrowing. "What was she doing in a Fifth District public hospital?"
"I don't know, I never asked," Selene said quickly.
Too quickly.
"I just saw an opportunity. I looked down at the baby in my arms—this child that represented everything Eveline had that I didn't—and I thought..."
Her voice broke.
"I thought I could teach Caelia a lesson. Show her what it felt like to lose something precious."
The silence that followed was worse than any explosion of rage could've been.
Edmund stood frozen behind his desk. That merchant's mind working through implications with ruthless efficiency.
"So you went to that hospital," he said finally. Each word dropping like a stone into still water. "You infiltrated the maternity ward. And you swapped babies."
"It was so easy," Selene whispered, the memory washing over her with sickening clarity. "Caelia was exhausted after the birth. Weak from complications. The hospital was in chaos—understaffed, overcrowded."
She could see it all again. Like watching someone else do it.
"I just walked in like I belonged there. Found a nurse's uniform. Walked into the nursery, switched the two babies, and then just... walked out."
Edmund swayed slightly. Gripping the edge of his desk for support. His face had gone completely white—all color draining as understanding began to dawn.
"Wait."
He said it very quietly.
"You said you were carrying a baby to the train station. If you swapped that baby for Caelia's newborn, then who..."
His voice failed him completely.
Selene watched him work through the logic. Watched the horrible truth settle on him like a physical weight.
"You were supposed to be taking Elara away," he said. Voice hollow now. "Eveline's daughter. My daughter with her. You told me you'd find her a good home somewhere safe."
He stopped. Eyes widening with dawning horror.
"But if you took her to that hospital..." Another pause. "By the Light. You didn't just swap Amara with Elara. You swapped all three babies."
"Elara went to the Long household," Selene admitted.
Words coming easier now that the worst was finally being exposed. Like lancing a wound that had been festering for years.
"Caelia and Darian named her Serenya, raised her as their own daughter. Never knowing the truth." She took a breath. "And Caelia's actual baby—Caelia and Darian's daughter—came home with me that night."
"To be raised as Mara Brenner," Edmund finished. Voice barely a whisper. "To be raised as our daughter. My daughter with Eveline."
He buried his face in his hands. Shoulders shaking.
When he looked up, his eyes were bright with unshed tears and something that looked like betrayal.
"Do you understand what you've done?" The question came out raw. "We've been raising the stolen daughter of Darian Long and Caelia Lin—two of the most powerful individuals in the empire. We've tortured and starved a girl whose true parents have probably spent seventeen years searching for her."
"They don't know," Selene said desperately.
Clinging to the lie she'd maintained for so long. The one thing that had kept her feeling safe.
"I made sure of that. The midwives who might've recognized the switch... they met with unfortunate accidents. The servants who helped... they've been transferred to distant provinces or found other employment." She rushed through it. "No one alive knows the full truth except us."
"And now cosmic law has recorded that truth."
Edmund's voice carried dawning horror as the full implications settled on him.
"The SIS will investigate. DNA tests will confirm bloodlines. It's only a matter of time before they trace the connections." He was talking faster now. "Before they realize that Serenya, the girl being raised as the Long family heir, carries none of their bloodline markers. Before they discover that Amara is our daughter, and that Mara..."
He trailed off. Couldn't complete the thought.
The magnitude of what they'd done—what Selene had done—was finally becoming real to him.
"I agreed to the first swap because you convinced me it was necessary," he said. Voice taking on this dangerous edge. "That Amara deserved legitimacy, that it wouldn't hurt anyone. I thought we were just... rearranging our own family. Protecting Amara's future while giving Elara a chance at a better life elsewhere."
His voice broke completely.
"You let me believe you were taking Elara away to be cared for properly. That she'd have a good life somewhere else." The accusation hung in the air. "And instead you used her—used my daughter—to steal another family's child? You've been lying to me for seventeen years about something this fundamental?"
His mind was working now. That sharp intelligence cutting through emotion to see the patterns beneath.
He stood again. Pacing behind his desk with the restless energy of someone whose world was crumbling around him, and he couldn't find solid ground anywhere.
"Wait."
He stopped suddenly. Turning to face her with eyes that had gone sharp with calculation.
"How did you just happen to hear about Caelia being rushed to the hospital? You said you were on your way to the train station—heading out of the district. Why would anyone be talking about Caelia Lin in that area?"
Selene felt ice forming in her stomach.
She realized where his logic was leading.
"People rushing past at the train station?" Edmund's voice grew harder with each word. "Discussing the private medical emergency of a First District celestial family member? In the Fifth District? During the days of Void Season when most people are focused on their own concerns?"
He leaned forward. That merchant's instinct for suspicious patterns was fully engaged.
"And you just happened to be there at exactly the right moment? With Elara in your arms? Right when Caelia was supposedly giving birth in a hospital she would never normally use?"
Selene's breath caught. "There were people rushing past, talking about it—"
"No."
Edmund's voice cut through her explanation like a blade.
"Can't you see? This was a setup. Someone wanted you to be there. Someone arranged for you to hear about Caelia, for you to be in that exact location with Elara in your arms, for the opportunity to be too perfect to resist."
"It was just... it was chance, an opportunity I seized—"
"There are no coincidences that convenient," Edmund said flatly. "Not in the noble houses. Not in matters of bloodline and succession." He turned away, staring out the window at the pre-dawn darkness. "Someone orchestrated this entire situation. Someone who knew you well enough to predict exactly what you'd do when presented with the opportunity to hurt Caelia."
His reflection was ghostly in the glass.
"The question is, who benefited from this arrangement? Who gained from having three babies swapped across families, from having bloodlines confused, from creating exactly this kind of chaos?"
But before Selene could formulate a response—before she could even begin to process the implications of Edmund's question—another realization crashed over her.
Like a wave.
Because if Edmund was right (and he usually was about these things), if someone had manipulated her into making that swap, then that meant someone had known about the Amber Kiss plot. Someone had anticipated her actions. Someone had been pulling strings since TC1835, orchestrating events across seventeen years.
The blood oath ceremony.
The cosmic recordings.
The DNA tests that would inevitably follow.
Perhaps even that had been part of someone's design. A plan set in motion nearly two decades ago, finally reaching its conclusion now.
"Edmund," she whispered. Voice shaking with a fear that had nothing to do with the blood oath or the SIS investigation. "If you're right, if someone planned this from the beginning, then we've been pawns in a scheme that's been running for seventeen years."
She paused, letting that sink in.
"And whoever designed it has been patient enough to wait nearly two decades for it to bear fruit."
Edmund nodded slowly. Face grim in the growing pre-dawn light. "Which means they're powerful. They're patient. And they've been watching us the entire time."
He turned back to face her.
"And now, with the blood oaths sworn and cosmic law involved, whatever they've been planning is about to come to fruition."
The pre-dawn light was beginning to filter through the study windows. Painting everything in shades of gray that seemed appropriate for the revelations being uncovered.
Edmund moved back to his desk. Didn't sit—just stood behind it like a general contemplating a battlefield where he'd already lost.
"The blood oath recorded the truth for anyone with access to official channels," he said quietly. "By the time the sun fully rises, representatives from the Long family will know. The Lin family will know." He paused. "The SIS will have already begun their investigation."
"Then what do we do?" Selene asked.
Hearing the desperation in her own voice and hating it.
Edmund was quiet for a long moment. Hazel eyes distant as he calculated options and found them all wanting.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of terrible necessity.
"We have to tell Father."
Those five words dropped into the silence like an execution order.
Selene felt her blood turn to ice.
Lord Garrick Brenner. The iron patriarch who'd built a commercial empire through ruthless pragmatism. Who valued family prestige above all else. Who viewed emotions as weakness and outsiders as threats.
"Edmund, no—"
She began, but he cut her off with a sharp gesture.
"We have no choice." His voice was flat. Final. "The cosmic recordings are already spreading. The DNA tests will be ordered within hours. The SIS investigation has likely already begun."
He looked at her directly.
"We cannot hide this. And we cannot handle it alone."
He turned to face her fully. In his eyes, she saw something that made her breath catch.
Not love. Not even pity.
Just cold calculation.
"Father has connections we don't. Resources we can't access." He said it matter-of-factly. "If there's any possibility of minimizing the damage, of finding a way to survive what's coming, he's the only one who can orchestrate it."
"He'll destroy us," Selene whispered. "When he learns what we've done—"
"He'll do what's necessary to protect the Brenner name." Edmund's voice carried no comfort. Only brutal honesty. "Which may mean sacrificing us to save the family."
Another pause.
"But that's a decision we have to let him make."
The study fell silent except for the ticking of the ornate clock on the mantle. Counting down the seconds until dawn fully broke.
Until the carefully constructed lies of seventeen years finally collapsed under the weight of cosmic truth.
Until Lord Garrick learned that his family had stolen and systematically abused the daughter of two major celestial families. A child whose tri-bloodline heritage made her more valuable than most provincial governors.
Until the reckoning that had been building for nearly two decades finally arrived with all the force of cosmic law and imperial justice combined.
Selene looked at her husband across the expanse of his desk and saw not the man who'd loved her for decades, but someone calculating survival in the face of certain disaster.
The phantom sensation of those hooks in her soul returned.
She understood with sickening clarity that the nightmare hadn't ended when she woke.
It was only just beginning.
"When?" she asked quietly.
"Now." Edmund's voice held no room for argument. "Before the morning council. Before the official reports reach him through other channels."
He moved around the desk. Not to comfort her, but to open the study door.
The gesture was clear—time for hiding had passed.
Time for accounting had come.
As Selene rose on unsteady legs, she caught her reflection in the window glass. The beautiful face that had been her weapon and her shield looked back at her with hollow eyes.
For just a moment, she could see the masked judges superimposed over her features. Their cold fire eyes burning through her remaining deceptions.
The chains might be invisible in the waking world, but she could still feel their weight.
And somewhere in the Eastern Empire, Mara—probably slept peacefully. Unaware that the family who'd tormented her for seventeen years was finally being forced to face the consequences of their cruelty.
Cosmic justice, Selene thought with bitter irony, had a terrible sense of timing.
She followed Edmund into the corridor. Each step feeling like walking toward her own execution.
Which (in a very real sense) she was.
Lord Garrick's private quarters lay at the far end of the manor's east wing. A domain he ruled with the same iron control he exercised over everything else.
As they approached through the pre-dawn darkness, Selene felt the weight of those phantom chains growing heavier with every step.
The nightmare, she understood now, had never been a dream at all.
It had been a warning.
And she had run out of time to heed it.