Kaelen didn't flinch when I walked into his war room and tossed the envelope onto the table.
He looked at it, then up at me. As always, he was calm. Always calm.
"Where did you find that?"
"On my pillow."
"When?"
"An hour ago."
"And you're just telling me now?"
"I wanted to see if I died first."
Kaelen exhaled slowly. "You shouldn't have waited."
"You shouldn't have let it get there."
He leaned back. "No broken locks?"
"No. No sound. No sign. Nothing."
His fingers tapped once against the edge of the table.
"Someone inside your house wants me gone," I said.
"I'm aware."
"And still—"
"You're still breathing," he interrupted.
I folded my arms. "What does the symbol mean?"
He was silent.
"You recognized it," I said.
"I've seen it before," he admitted.
"Where?"
Kaelen stood and moved to the wall cabinet. He pulled out a worn leather binder and flipped through a set of hand-drawn markings. He stopped at one and held it up.
Same mark. Same red X.
"What is it?"
"A ghost."
"Try again."
"A faction that doesn't officially exist. They call themselves the Noctem Order. Mercenaries. Saboteurs. Killers for hire."
"Sounds charming."
"They only move when someone pays well enough to vanish after."
"So someone bought them," I said. "And pointed them at me."
"Or your father," Kaelen said. "This could have started before you ever stood at that altar."
I stared at the symbol again. My skin crawled.
"Do you have anyone inside this Order?"
"No," he said. "And anyone who ever tried didn't last long."
"Great."
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. "They don't warn people. Not like this."
My stomach sank. "So what is it?"
"A message for someone else," he said. "One they wanted you to find."
"So I'm bait."
"You were always bait."
He said it like a fact. No edge. No apology.
I hated him for that.
And I respected him for it.
"I want names," I said.
"I want your trust."
"You won't get it."
"Then I'll settle for results."
I turned away but stopped in the doorway. "One more thing."
"What?"
"Someone knew I'd be left alone. They knew when. That's not a mercenary. That's someone with a key."
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "Which means it's someone inside my house."
We looked at each other.
Finally, he said it.
"We have a traitor."
Kaelen brought me to the underground hall without explanation.
Stone walls. Iron torches. No guards.
"Are we going to meet your pet assassin?" I asked.
"Something like that."
"I'm getting used to vague threats."
"You'll want to pay attention to this one."
He stopped in front of a black door and knocked once—sharp, deliberate.
It opened on the third knock.
A man stood inside, dressed in a dark high-collared coat. Thin. Older than Kaelen by maybe ten years. Hair silver at the edges. One eye was covered with a black leather patch. The other—steel grey—locked on me first.
Then Kaelen.
"Well," the man said, voice like dry smoke. "You married a Valtore. Didn't see that coming."
Kaelen didn't smile. "Cassair. This is Serena."
"I figured." Cassair stepped aside. "Come in, both of you. Don't worry, I swept for listening devices."
"Who are you?" I asked.
He didn't answer right away. Just walked toward a desk cluttered with scrolls and thin metal blades.
"I used to clean Kaelen's messes," he said. "Now I just study the patterns."
I frowned. "You're ex-Dravik security?"
Cassair chuckled. "Ex-everything."
"He knows the Order," Kaelen said. "Better than anyone alive."
"And not dead yet," Cassair added. "That's got to count for something."
I crossed my arms. "Someone left a note in my room. Threatened me. Kaelen said it might be Noctem."
Cassair nodded. "They like fear more than blood. Messages. Symbols. Rituals. They work in shadow and meaning."
"You sound like you admire them."
"I understand them," he said. "It's not the same."
I stepped closer. "Why are you helping us?"
"I owe Kaelen."
"For what?"
Cassair's smile faded. "For not letting me die like a dog."
I looked at Kaelen. He said nothing. Of course.
Cassair pulled a file from under his desk. "You're not the first to get that mark. But you might be the first to get a second one."
I froze. "There's another?"
He flipped the file open. A blurry photo. A body. Neck slashed, X carved into the chest.
Kaelen swore under his breath.
"When?" he asked.
"Two days ago," Cassair replied. "East border. The body belonged to a courier. Valtore seal."
I stared at the photo. That was our uniform.
"What was he carrying?"
Cassair held up a torn envelope. "Whatever it was, it never arrived."
I met Kaelen's eyes. "Someone's cutting off messages. Communications. Warnings."
"Or proof," Kaelen said.
I turned to Cassair. "Can you find out who hired the Order?"
"I can try."
"That's not good enough."
Cassair smiled. "Lady Valtore… if I get close enough to find out who paid them, one of us isn't walking away."
"I don't need you to walk," I said. "I need you to talk."
Kaelen looked at me, unreadable.
And I could tell—just by the flicker in his eye—
That he hadn't expected me to fit in this world so well.
I didn't tell Kaelen I was leaving.
I didn't sneak—but I didn't ask, either.
A quiet word from one of the kitchen girls was all it took.
"There's a man," she said. "Dravik uniform, but he walks like Valtore. I saw him slip out the back courtyard."
That was enough.
I moved fast. Down the servant stairwell. Past the guard post, Kaelen hadn't assigned to me. Through the cracked garden gate and into the side corridor no one was supposed to use.
The hallway smelled like rain and rust.
And then I saw him.
Back turned. Hood down. Broad shoulders. A scar on the left wrist—one I'd recognize anywhere.
"Rilan?"
He froze.
Turned slowly.
And there he was.
My father's former courier. My shadow for years. The boy who once held a blade to a councilman's throat for calling me a bargaining chip.
Alive.
I blinked. "You were supposed to be dead."
"I was," he said. "For about twelve seconds."
I stepped forward. "You were at the wedding."
He nodded once. "Far enough not to be seen. Close enough to see the shot."
"Why didn't you come to me?"
"Because the shooter wasn't aiming for your father."
My blood turned to ice. "What?"
Rilan moved into the light. His face looked harder than I remembered—older, thinner. But his eyes were the same.
"They aimed for you first. Changed course at the last second."
"That's not possible."
"It is if someone wanted to send a message."
I swallowed. "Who hired you to follow me?"
"No one," he said. "I came on my own. To finish what your father started."
"You know who did it?"
"I know part of who did it."
"Then tell me."
"I will," he said. "But not here."
Footsteps echoed down the corridor behind me.
I turned fast—hand already moving toward the dagger sewn into my sleeve.
Kaelen.
Of course.
He looked between me and Rilan, then back at me.
"Want to tell me why you're sneaking around with a Valtore ghost?"
"He's not a ghost," I said. "He's a witness."
Kaelen stepped closer. "He's a threat."
"Not to me."
"You're not the one I'm worried about."
Rilan didn't flinch. "I'm not your enemy."
"That's what all enemies say."
I stepped between them, my heart pounding.
"We're all on the same side now," I said. "Whether we like it or not."
Kaelen stared at Rilan.
Then at me.
"I hope you're right," he said.
And for the first time…
I wasn't sure I was.
Rilan waited until Kaelen left the corridor.
He didn't say anything on his way out—just gave me a look. The kind that said I'll give you this moment, but I'm watching.
As soon as the door shut, Rilan reached into the lining of his coat and pulled out a folded sheet of paper wrapped in oilskin.
"He gave me this three nights before the wedding," he said. "Said if anything happened, it was for your hands only."
My pulse skipped.
"You read it?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Didn't need to. He told me you'd know what it meant."
He handed it to me.
I unwrapped it slowly. Recognized the handwriting instantly—bold, clipped, exact.
My father's.
There were only four words on the page.
Four words—and one name.
"Start with Maive. Then—Cassair."
The ground shifted.
I stared at the name.
Not Maive—hers made sense. But Cassair?
Kaelen's confidant. His so-called ghost cleaner. The one feeding us intel on the Noctem Order.
My mouth went dry.
"Are you sure he gave this to you?" I whispered.
Rilan nodded once. "He looked me in the eye and said, 'If I die, they'll move fast. She'll need time. Give her a place to start.'"
Cassair.
The man who just told us he was helping.
I folded the note and tucked it inside the lining of my dress.
If Kaelen knew, he'd confront him.
And if Cassair was guilty?
We wouldn't get a second chance.
"Not
a word to anyone," I told Rilan.
He didn't argue. "I'll wait for your signal."
He slipped into the shadows again like he'd never been there at all.
And I stood alone in the corridor, my father's final words burning against my ribs.
Maive. I expected.
But Cassair?
That betrayal cut deeper.
Because for a moment, I almost believed he was on our side.
Almost.