Some truths are too loud to silence, even with power."
The sky hadn't breathed since last night's storm. And neither had the palace.
Inside, tension laced the halls like fog. Courtiers moved with clipped steps, their eyes sharp with caution. Even the guards stiffened slightly when Elara passed not out of disrespect, but uncertainty.
What happens when a flame refuses to burn out and instead spreads?
Elara moved with calm purpose through the marble gallery, Ana by her side. Her steps were steady, her chin lifted with quiet determination. But inside, her thoughts spun like a cyclone.
The parchment was folded tightly in her sleeve. A truth she couldn't unsee. Her mother wasn't just a ghost in her dreams anymore. She had a name. A history. A grave no one dared mark.
"You look like you're going to bite someone," Ana muttered.
Elara didn't smile. "They want me to crack in public. I won't give them the satisfaction."
Ana nodded. "Hold your crown like it's carved out of thorns. And bleed beautifully."
The Grand Council convened again.
But this time, the King entered last.
A hush followed him not heavy, but loaded. He didn't greet anyone. Just took his seat and watched.
Elara's place was closer to the dais now. A subtle shift. A loud message.
Lady Vera sat waiting, veiled and gloved. Lord Beric fidgeted beside her. The Empress remained still, her gaze unreadable.
The High Priest stepped forward the same man from the Trial. He lifted the ceremonial blade.
"Flamebearer Elara. Rise."
She did.
"Do you pledge to only tell the truth to the assembly of honourable members?"
"I do," she said, steady.
He drew the blade across her palm. Blood welled.
"Your mother's name?"
A pause. Then:
"Seraphina of the Flame."
Her voice sliced through the room, fixed firmly on the King.
He flinched not in body, but in soul. The name rang through his memory like a wound reopened.
Gasps erupted. The blood remained steady.
"Were you born within this palace?"
"No. Hidden. Delivered in secret."
Her eyes locked with the Empress's. Cold met fire.
The priest hesitated.
"Was the flame passed down to you by blood, or was it through the trial?"
Elara's gaze swept the hall. "By both."
He raised the blade again. The fire didn't flare. No smoke. No twist.
He stepped back, visibly shaken. "She speaks no lie."
The chamber exploded.
Shouts. Cries. Demands. Shock. Elara didn't move.
Lady Vera surged to her feet. "This is manipulation! We need more than blood, we need certainty."
Prince Kael rose.
"Enough."
Like a sharp blade, his voice sounds through the chaos. Even the Empress blinked.
"She's proven herself. Again and again. The stone chose her. The people believe her.
What more do you want? Her corpse?"
Lady Vera paled. The Empress said nothing.
Elara stepped toward the central flame.
"You made me bleed for truth," she said, clear, calm and unwavering. "Now let's see who else dares."
In her chambers, Elara looked at her palm bandaged with bloodstains. M sat near the window, sharpening his blade.
"That was reckless," he said.
"It was necessary."
"You could've lied."
"Then I'd be handing them a version of me they could dismantle. They'll take all of me, or none."
Ana entered with a scroll clutched in her hand. "From the Southern provinces. News is spreading. Fast."
Elara exhaled, voice low but firm. "Then let it spread."
Thunder cracked outside.
But inside, the fire was only beginning