"You're bleeding," Thalia said, frowning at Ariella's hand.
Ariella hadn't noticed. Her palm was cut from catching a jagged vine on the villa wall, but her focus was still locked on the paper in her hand—the bounty. Her face. Her real name: Arielle Valenhart.
And that blood-red seal beneath it.
House R.
She sat on the low stone edge of the abandoned fountain, chest rising and falling with shallow, quiet panic. The sketch was recent. Not just a likeness pulled from an old portrait—but drawn after her return. Meaning someone had already recognized her.
Thalia crouched beside her and pulled a cloth from her belt, wrapping Ariella's hand carefully.
"Breathe," Thalia murmured. "We're not dead yet."
Ariella gave a dry laugh. "You say that like we haven't already been."
Thalia met her eyes. "Maybe you were."
Ariella looked at her fully for the first time that night. "Why did you come back, Thalia?"
Thalia's hands stilled. "You don't remember?"
"Some things. Not everything."
Thalia glanced away, her jaw tightening. "You were the only person who treated me like more than a blade. A tool. You didn't order me to kill for power—you begged me to use my skills to protect people. You gave me a name. A place."
"So I made you my shadow," Ariella said.
Thalia nodded. "Your handmaiden by title. Your bodyguard in truth."
"And now?"
Thalia's mouth twitched. "Now I'm the idiot who followed you into death and back."
The moon cast a silver glow over the broken walls of the villa. For a moment, the air was quiet.
"I didn't survive that night," Ariella said. "Not the fire. Not the fall. I felt my heart stop."
"Someone brought you back," Thalia replied. "Maybe it was magic. Maybe a god. Maybe spite."
"But why me?"
Thalia didn't answer.
Ariella looked back at the bounty notice. "What do you know about House R?"
Thalia's eyes narrowed. "Rothewell. Nobles from the southern arch. Used to hold seat at the king's table until they backed the rebellion five years ago."
"They fell with the rebel lords," Ariella said.
"Not all of them," Thalia said. "Rumors say one branch survived. Quiet. Patient. Feeding off the shadows."
Ariella folded the bounty neatly and tucked it inside her coat.
"Let's go," she said.
"Where?"
"Back to the palace. I want to know who's leaking information. Someone close is watching me—and I need to find out who."
—
By sunrise, they were back in the capital. The servants' corridors were beginning to stir as the kitchen staff prepared for breakfast, unaware of the ghosts in their midst.
Ariella slipped through the halls like she had before—unseen, quiet, thinking three steps ahead.
She didn't go to her room.
Instead, she went to the Hall of Records.
It was hidden behind the east wing—forgotten by most. A place where old ledgers and noble scrolls collected dust, and librarians were paid to look the other way.
Only one man still worked the early shift there.
Archivist Lorne.
He was already awake when Ariella entered, hunched over a candlelit table with half-moon glasses perched on his nose.
"Lady Ariella," he said without surprise. "You've come to disturb the past again."
She gave a faint smile. "I'm beginning to think the past is the only thing that matters."
He gestured for her to sit. "What are you looking for this time?"
"Everything tied to House Valenhart, prior to the fire thirteen years ago."
Lorne blinked. "That line was dissolved."
"Only officially," she said. "But I want to see the documents. All of them."
He studied her for a moment, then rose and disappeared into the back shelves.
Thalia leaned against the door, arms crossed. "You trust him?"
"I trust that he loves books more than people. And that he's too old to start caring about palace games now."
Lorne returned with two boxes. One was labeled Valenhart Estates. The other simply said Red Ink—Sealed.
He set them down.
"I never saw these," he said carefully. "And if anyone asks, neither did you."
Ariella opened the first box.
Inside were deeds, portraits, event logs. Her family estate had once been among the wealthiest in the inner court—third only to House Vale and House Adrelan. Her father, Lord Darius Valenhart, had been a financial advisor to the crown.
Her mother… wasn't mentioned much.
But one small envelope caught her eye. It was sealed in blue wax and addressed to "D."
She opened it.
Inside was a short letter, written in elegant script.
If they find out what you hid, they will burn it all. The contract, the witnesses, the heir. I've hidden my copy in the ledger's spine. Protect her. No one else will.
Thalia looked over her shoulder. "Is that your mother's handwriting?"
"I think so," Ariella whispered. "But what contract?"
She picked up the second box. Red Ink—Sealed.
Inside were ledgers—some she recognized. Others were blank.
But one felt heavier than the rest.
She slit the spine carefully.
Inside, wrapped in faded cloth, was a small, metal key—and a rolled document with a broken seal.
A contract.
Her hands trembled as she unrolled it.
It wasn't about money.
It was about succession.
Ariella Valenhart had been the last surviving direct descendant of a forgotten royal bloodline—tied by marriage two generations back to the first Vale king. In the absence of the current bloodline, she would have been a legal claimant to the throne.
But someone had gone through extraordinary lengths to erase her.
She had died before her sixth birthday in the records.
The fire that had claimed her estate had been no accident. It had been an execution.
And someone had made sure the crown never asked questions.
Thalia leaned closer, voice low. "You were never just a noble girl. You were a threat."
Ariella closed the scroll. "Not anymore."
Thalia looked at the key. "What does it open?"
Ariella stared at it. "I don't know yet. But I'll find out."
Before they could say more, a knock echoed softly on the outer door.
Lorne paled. "No one comes here at this hour."
Thalia moved quickly, drawing her blade.
Ariella signaled for silence and moved to the shadows near the side shelf.
The door creaked open.
A familiar voice whispered from the hall.
"Lady Ariella. You shouldn't be here alone."
Cassian stepped into the room, his eyes sharp and tired.
Ariella straightened. "How did you know I was here?"
"I always know when someone's trying to disappear," he said.
He spotted the open scroll and the key.
"You found it."
"You knew?" Ariella said.
"I suspected. But confirmation is dangerous. That key doesn't just open a door—it opens a war."
"Then maybe it's time someone started fighting back."
Cassian stepped forward. "You still don't get it. If you claim that bloodline, they won't just hunt you. They'll start eliminating anyone who remembers you lived."
Thalia raised an eyebrow. "Let them try."
Cassian looked between them, then sighed. "Meet me tonight. Greenhouse. Midnight. There's something you need to see."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you'll never learn why you were brought back in the first place."
He turned and walked away.
Ariella stared after him.
"What does he mean 'why I was brought back'?" she whispered.
Thalia frowned. "You think this goes deeper than politics?"
"I think," Ariella said, looking down at the sealed scroll, "we're standing on a grave someone tried very hard to keep buried. And I want to know why I'm still breathing while everyone else in that grave is gone."