That night, the palace buzzed with hushed speculation.
The Flameborn had survived the vault.
Servants whispered it behind their hands. Nobles spoke of it over goblets of silverwine, some in awe, others in fear. In the great halls, Serenya's name now carried weight. Not because she had claimed it—but because magic had acknowledged her.
Yet while the court whispered, Serenya sat alone in the palace gardens, her body still aching from the trial.
The moon hung full and bright overhead, casting silver light across the hedgerows and marble paths. Enchanted roses bloomed in unnatural colors—midnight blue, blood-red, a deep violet that shimmered when touched by moonlight.
It should've been peaceful.
But Serenya's thoughts churned.
That power… it knew me. It knew everything I feared. And it nearly consumed me.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the ember. Still glowing faintly, still warm.
It felt alive.
"I should be afraid of you," she whispered to it.
"Afraid of what?" a voice said from behind her.
She turned, startled.
Prince Kael El'Varyn leaned against a twisted marble column, arms crossed, the shadow of a smile on his lips. His jacket was undone, and a black ribbon held his dark hair back, revealing high cheekbones and tired eyes that still sparkled with mischief.
"You're always sneaking up on me," she said.
"Only when you're brooding." He walked over and sat on the edge of the fountain. "So. You didn't die. That's impressive."
She gave him a look. "Is that how you compliment people?"
Kael grinned. "Would you believe me if I said I was relieved?"
Serenya looked at him carefully. "I don't know what to believe about you."
He nodded, almost thoughtfully. "Fair. My family taught me to smile with a blade in my hand and a secret behind my teeth."
"And your mother?"
Kael's expression darkened for just a moment. "My mother taught me not to trust fire. Which makes this very awkward."
Serenya stood and faced him. "Why are you here, Kael?"
"Because you're dangerous," he said. "And because I think… you're not the only one being watched."
She froze. "What do you mean?"
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, silver pendant. It shimmered with moonlight—and runes.
"This was found outside your chambers. Old magic. Watching magic."
Her jaw tightened. "Someone is spying on me?"
"Someone is afraid of you," Kael corrected. "And that's not the same thing."
Serenya felt a chill despite the garden's warmth. "So who do I trust?"
Kael stepped closer. "That's the wrong question."
He leaned in slightly, his voice low.
"The right question is: Who do you let think you trust them?"
She stared at him. His nearness was unnerving—but not because of fear. Because somehow, he was too familiar. As if she'd known him in another life. Or maybe, as if the flame inside her recognized something in him.
Before she could reply, a rosebush beside them shuddered.
A raven burst from the branches—black as ink, but with silver eyes.
Serenya and Kael both tensed.
"It's one of hers," Kael muttered. "The Queen."
The raven circled once, then flew toward the tallest tower of the palace.
Kael's jaw tightened. "She knows you passed the vault. Now she'll move her pieces."
"She already has," Serenya said, holding up the silver pendant. "We just haven't seen the full board yet."
Kael gave a low chuckle. "You might just survive this place after all."
Serenya looked toward the tower where the raven vanished.
"I don't want to survive it," she said quietly. "I want to change it."
Kael's smile faded.
Then he whispered, "Then be ready. Because if you plan to change this court… the court will try to change you first.