The morning sun filtered through lace curtains, soft and golden, but Evelyne's heart remained cold.
The scroll in her hand bore the imperial seal—her father's own wax crest, pressed into blood-red wax.
Her presence was required at the palace.
Zane read over her shoulder, eyes narrowing. "Do you think it's about the masked figure?"
"No," Evelyne said quietly. "It's about the past finally catching up."
---
The carriage that arrived for her was sleek and black, with two white horses and royal guards flanking its sides.
As she stepped in, Elisse caught her hand. "You'll come back, right?"
Evelyne hesitated. Then forced a smile. "Of course. I promised you, didn't I?"
Elisse nodded, though her grip lingered just a little too long.
Inside the carriage, Evelyne sat alone.
But in her mind, she was never alone.
Flashes of fire. Screams. The echo of a crowd calling for her head.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Not this time.
---
To be continued...