I didn't sleep.
Not after the journal.
Not after the way Kaelen looked at me—like I was the last truth he had.
That kind of love was dangerous. The kind that made people careless.
I couldn't afford to be careless.
The first move had to be quiet.
No council summons. No confrontations. No daggers in daylight.
Just silence.
I slipped through the east wing before the sun rose, moving through servant corridors until I reached the old council archive. Kaelen's key—still warm from his palm the night before—fit easily into the lock.
The room smelled of dust, ink, and forgotten things.
Perfect.
I lit one only lamp.
Cassair's name wasn't listed on the council's official files until three years ago. But my father had named him long before that. Which meant someone had lied.
I combed through half a dozen ledgers, flipping pages, ignoring the burn in my eyes.
Then I found it.
An old supply ledger—signed off by council quartermasters.
Cassair's signature wasn't on the list.
But a name marked with a matching seal was:
Corven Vale.
My pulse skipped.
Corven. Not Cassair.
He'd changed names.
Why?
I copied the seal onto a small slip of paper, folded it, and tucked it into the lining of my sleeve.
A sound behind me made my blood chill.
Footsteps. Too slow. Too heavy.
I didn't turn.
"Funny place for a Dravik bride to be alone," a voice said.
Smooth.
Female.
I turned—and nearly cursed aloud.
Vionne.
Wrapped in a deep navy cloak, her hair pinned back in elegant waves, lips painted like blood and secrets.
"Family archives are open to all," I said smoothly.
"They are," she agreed. "But only the guilty come before dawn."
I kept my face still. "What do you want?"
"To talk," she said, gliding forward. "But not here."
"Then where?"
Vionne smiled. "Somewhere only traitors go."
Vionne led me through the garden ruins behind the old chapel.
A place once meant for prayer, is now nothing but broken stone and overgrown ivy.
We didn't speak until we were deep inside, where the moonlight barely reached.
She stopped at the edge of a collapsed altar and turned to me.
"No guards," she said. "No eyes. Just us."
"Your rules?"
"My survival."
I folded my arms. "What do you want, Vionne?"
She tilted her head. "A better question might be—what do you think I know?"
"You're not here to reminisce."
"No," she said softly. "I'm here because you're looking into Cassair."
My throat tightened.
"I'm not stupid, Sereya," she continued. "And neither are you. You know something stinks in that house. You just haven't figured out who's lighting the match."
"I'm working on it."
"Good. Work faster."
I stepped closer. "Why the sudden sisterhood?"
She laughed under her breath. "I'm not your sister. I'm your mirror."
I frowned. "Excuse me?"
"We both lost everything. We both wear smiles that cut. We both sleep with men we don't fully trust."
She let that hang.
I didn't respond.
"You think Kaelen's in control?" she said. "You think he built this empire without stepping over bodies he pretends not to remember?"
"Why don't you just say it?"
"Because I don't have proof," she said. "Yet. But you do. Or you will. And when you find it… you'll have to decide if you're willing to burn it all down."
I narrowed my eyes. "And you? What would you do?"
Vionne's smile was sharper than the dagger I kept under my sleeve.
"I already started the fire, cousin. I'm just waiting to see who walks through the smoke."
She turned, cloak brushing broken stone, and walked away without another word.
Leaving me in the dark.
With too many questions.
And a flame I couldn't stop from spreading.
Kaelen was waiting in my chambers when I returned.
No guards. No coat. Just him—standing by the balcony, sleeves rolled, jaw tense like he hadn't meant to stay long… but couldn't bring himself to leave.
"You were gone awhile," he said.
"I needed air."
He didn't press.
Didn't ask where.
Didn't question what shadows might've followed me.
I walked past him, unfastening the clasp of my cloak. "Did you need something?"
He watched me carefully.
"No," he said. "Just… wanted to see you."
A pause.
And then, quieter, "To make sure you came back."
That hit deeper than I expected.
I faced him. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because every time I look at you," he said, "I'm afraid I'll see something I can't fix."
"You don't need to fix me."
"I know." He stepped closer. "That's what scares me."
His hand brushed my arm. Barely there. But I felt it like a warning.
Like a promise.
"You're strong, Sereya. Smarter than anyone in this house wants to admit. And if you decided to walk away from me…" He stopped.
"You'd let me?" I asked, unsure why my voice cracked.
"I wouldn't stop you," he said. "But I wouldn't survive it either."
The silence after that wasn't comfortable.
It was terrifying.
Because it was the first time he admitted—admitted—how much I meant to him.
Even when I didn't know what to do with it.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said softly.
Truth.
For now.
He nodded once, eyes flickering with something unguarded.
Then he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a ring.
Not a diamond. Not gold.
A small black band etched with three Valtore stars.
"My mother's," he said. "She kept it in a locket after her wedding fell apart. Said she never wanted to wear the Dravik name. But she wore this. Quietly. Because it reminded her who she was before him."
He held it out to me.
"I think you'd understand that better than anyone."
I took it.
Slid it onto my thumb.
It fits perfectly.
And I hated how perfect it felt.
Because with every gift… every touch… every whisper of love—
He was making it harder to do what I might have to do.
Talon found me just after midnight.
He didn't knock.
He didn't speak.
He simply stepped into my chambers, closed the door behind him, and handed me a folded scrap of parchment—creased, damp, and stained in the corner.
A name was scrawled across the page.
Corven Vale.
My blood turned to ice.
"I pulled it from the old mercenary ledgers stored near the west tower," Talon said. "Used during an assassination contract out of the Eastern Ward—paid in gold, sanctioned by a masked intermediary."
I looked up at him. "The target?"
"Someone from Valtore. A cousin, I think. The name was redacted. But the timing matches your father's first territorial purge."
My fingers tightened around the paper.
It was real.
Cassair—Corven—had been involved in Noctem operations before he ever became Kaelen's advisor.
Before the wedding.
Before the alliance.
Talon studied me, arms crossed. "You still think Kaelen's in the dark?"
"I don't
know what to think," I whispered.
Because the truth was—
If Kaelen knew…
Then I'd already lost him.
If he didn't…
Then the man who'd given me his mother's ring was being played by the one person closest to him.
And either way…
I was running out of time.