The fire crackled low in the hearth, but the warmth didn't touch Vivian's skin. She was still cold from the forest. Her fingers itched where they touched the altar. Every time she blinked, she saw it: the emerald light, the king's eyes, the whispers of a name that hadn't belonged to her…and yet did.
She sat before her mirror, but her reflection looked distant. Hallowed.
"What happened out there?" Lily asked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.
Vivian didn't answer. Couldn't
Because she didn't know.
The knock came before the silence could stretch too long.
Lily opened it—and froze.
A young man stood there dressed in robes the color of sunstone. He was glowing—not metaphorically, but truly. A faint shimmer clung to his skin like light filtered through stained glass. His eyes were gold, unnaturally so, and his hair fell in waves of copper and white.
Behind him stood two more figures, cloaked.
"I apologize for this late call," The glowing one said. His voice melodic, and it filled the room like music. "But I was told this is where the emerald flame touched down."
"Vivian rose slowly. "Who are you?"
He bowed. "Prince Thalien of Valeria. Or what's left of it."
Lily gasped. "Valeria was destroyed."
"That's what the world was told," Thalien replied, stepping uninvited. "But some of us survived. Hidden. Waiting. Watching for signs of old magic awakening."
Vivian narrowed her eyes. "You think it's me?"
"I don't think,' he said, smiling faintly. "I know."
The two cloaked figures stepped forward, revealing themselves—one a girl with moon-pale eyes, silver braids and ears slightly pointed; the other a tall man with slate skin and swirling tattoos that shimmered faintly like smoke.
"We've seen you in prophecy," Thalien continued. "Emerald fire, cursed crown, rain that marks the beginning. You're the thread."
"The thread of what?" Lily asked softly.
"of unraveling." The pale girl said. Her voice was like ice breaking.
Vivian's pulse thundered in her ears. "Why now? Why come to me now?"
"Because you were never meant to be hidden forever,' Thalien said. "And the king knows that."
Vivian swallowed. "The king?"
Thalian nodded once. "He's the reason Valeria fell. And he's the only one who can stop it from happening again."
"But he—he saved me in the woods. He warned me."
"He's many things," the slate-skinned man aid. "And not all of them lie in the same direction."
Before Vivian could respond, another knock echoed at the door—sharp, commanding.
The moment shattered like glass.
Thalien stepped back into the shadows as the door creaked open.
A servant stood in the hallway, nervous. "You're summoned to the east wing, my lady. The king wants to see you."
Vivian's stomach twisted.
She followed the servant.
The palace corridors felt longer this time, like the walls themselves were holding their breath.
When she entered the east wing it wasn't The king who stood waiting—but a woman.
Tall. Regal. Draped in a crimson gown that shimmered like blood in moonlight.
"I am lady Vestra," the woman said offering no bow. Her eyes were black—pitch and mirror. "Advisor to the king. And former queen of Duskmoor."
Vivan stiffened.
Lady Vestra stepped closer. "There are forces in this palace girl. Eyes in the walls. Secrets behind smiles. And not all of us want the emerald prophecy to come to pass."
Vivian met her gaze, unflinching. "Then try to stop it."
The faintest smile-curled the woman's lips. "Careful, child. Fire doesn't ask permission. But it burns all the same.
Before Vivian could respond, another voice slid into the room like smoke.
"You summoned her only to threaten her, Vestra? Cassian stepped out from the shadows beyond the arched door, his expression unreadable. "You disappoint me."
Lady Vestra inclined her head, unbothered. "I was only welcoming her to the real court." She turned and vanished into the hall, red silk trailing like spilled wine.
Vivian looked at Cassian, the king.
He said nothing at first. Just watched her. "I saw an altar, she said. "I touched it. You said it was me."
"I did."
"Why?"
Because I've known since the moment you entered this palace," he said, stepping closer. "You are the ember that survives the storm. You are more than they told you. More than you remember.
Vivian's voice wavered. Then help me understand."
His eyes darkened. "I'm trying."
He reached for her hand—just briefly—and heat flared where their skin met.
But then he let go. And like that, the cold returned.
"I will protect you, Vivian," he said quietly. "Even if it means protecting you from yourself."
And then he was gone.
Vivian stood alone, heart pounding, caught between truths she couldn't reach and a future already chasing her name.