Elara's POV
The Inkless Lord did not summon me that morning. That was the first sign that something was wrong. He never skipped our daily trials, not since I had first stepped into his world of ink and silence. For all his cruelty, he was consistent.
I stood in the grand library—though calling it a library felt like a weak word for what the room truly was. This space held every name ever written and unwritten, engraved onto floating strips of black parchment. They shifted overhead like schools of spectral fish, gliding through the air as if moved by breath and memory.
I wasn't alone. A boy leaned casually against one of the obsidian pillars, flipping a thin metal card between his fingers. His silver hair shimmered in the low light, and a black earring with a red stone dangled from his ear.
"You look lost," he said without looking up.
I knew him.
Lucen Vale.
The second male lead. The assassin-in-training. The boy with no past—and no true name. Rumored to be cursed by the book itself. His records were blank.
"I'm not lost," I lied. "Just thinking."
Lucen smirked and turned toward me. "That's dangerous here. This place has a habit of writing down your thoughts."
He walked toward one of the floating name scrolls and pointed. A strip of paper peeled from the air and hovered in front of him.
"See? Look at this one."
He tossed it to me.
I caught it.
And read it.
Elara Selwyn. The Girl Who Lies to Herself.
I dropped it like it burned.
Lucen tilted his head. "Lies have weight, Elara. Some heavier than others."
Before I could reply, the torches flared blue. A ripple passed through the room. The system pinged.
> [SYSTEM NOTICE: TRIAL REALLOCATION]
Host Elara Selwyn will now participate in:
Trial of the Masked Court.
> Objective: Discover the true name of the unspoken. Time Limit: 24 hours. Consequences: Memory Forfeit.
My blood ran cold.
Lucen whistled low. "They're sending you there? Damn, Inkless really wants to break you."
I turned to him sharply. "Do you know what it is?"
He smiled darkly. "Only the most dangerous of all trials. Where everyone wears a mask... and everyone lies. Fail to find the truth, and the book takes something real."
I swallowed hard.
Lucen stepped closer. "Want a tip? Don't trust anyone. Not even me."
---
The Masked Court was nothing like I expected.
It wasn't a courtroom. It was a ballroom—grand, opulent, bathed in shifting candlelight and illusions. Dozens of masked figures danced to music that sounded slightly... off. Like a lullaby twisted in reverse.
As soon as I stepped in, a mask appeared in my hand. Pure white. Blank.
> [SYSTEM MESSAGE: MASK EQUIPPED – ALL IDENTITIES CONCEALED]
Everyone here wore elaborate disguises: feathers, beaks, gold-threaded visors. Some masks looked like animals; others like monsters. A few... like broken mirrors.
I moved slowly.
Somewhere in this maze of music and deception, one figure had no name. And I had to find them before the hourglass ran dry.
One wrong guess—and I'd lose another memory. Like I had back in Chapter 6.
---
"You're late."
The voice belonged to a man in a fox-shaped mask. He offered me a goblet of dark red wine.
"Sorry," I said, trying to sound amused. "Did I miss the murder mystery reveal?"
He chuckled. "Oh no, darling. You're just in time for the lies."
---