The days following the Blackwood incident were a blur of intense activity, both for myself and, I could only assume, for the entire Royal Court. My hidden chambers in Viremont became a strategic command center. I spent hours poring over Cassian's ancient texts, cross-referencing information about Ley lines, ancient rituals, and the history of powerful noble houses with my intimate knowledge of the "Crown of Swords and Silk" novel. The more I learned, the clearer it became: the novel wasn't just a story; it was a deeply encoded magical blueprint, designed to channel the kingdom's latent Aether into a single, powerful nexus controlled by the Crown. The war was merely a means to destabilize and then consolidate.
Elara continued to be my silent, efficient conduit to the outside world. Notes would appear on my desk, detailing the reactions within the capital. The Crown Prince Alaric was reportedly in a dark mood, his face etched with frustration. The official explanation for Duke Theron's sudden collapse was a "mysterious illness," but the whispers of a "monstrous beast" in the Blackwood persisted, especially among the Northern guards. The "Silent Blades," it seemed, were still baffled, their reputation for flawless assassinations now tarnished.
One evening, after the soft clink of Elara's tray had long since faded, Cassian's knock, sharp and urgent, echoed from the hidden door. Three taps, a pause, two more. I was already at the hearth, pulling the lever to grant him entry.
He entered, his dark robes swirling around him. The usual controlled amusement in his silver eyes was gone, replaced by a steely resolve. He carried a rolled parchment, tied with a crimson ribbon—a royal decree.
"The Crown Prince has made his move," Cassian stated, his voice devoid of his usual silken purr. "He has summoned an emergency Convocation of the Noble Houses. All major dukes and marquises are commanded to attend the Imperial Palace within three days."
My breath hitched. "A Convocation? This isn't in the novel, not at this stage. Not without the war already raging."
"Precisely," Cassian affirmed, unrolling the parchment on my desk. "It is a deviation. A desperate attempt to regain control of the narrative, now that his 'catalyst' has failed." His finger traced a line on the decree. "The official reason: to address the growing unrest in the North and to 'unite the kingdom in peace.' But the subtext is clear: a public display of power. A way to pressure the Northern houses without resorting to open warfare, yet."
"He'll try to force their hand," I realized, the pieces clicking into place. "Coerce Duke Theron and his allies into allegiance, perhaps even demand an oath of loyalty under the guise of 'unity.'"
"That is my assessment," Cassian agreed. "He will use the Duke's recent 'illness' as an example of the 'unstable times' requiring firm imperial rule. He will likely propose new edicts, perhaps even demand hostages or strategic marriages to bind the houses to the Crown."
"And if Theron refuses?"
"Then Alaric will have his pretext for war, disguised as enforcing the Crown's will," Cassian explained, his gaze sharp. "This Convocation is a trap, Seraphine. A gambit to circumvent your disruption in the Blackwood."
I paced, my mind racing. This was a critical juncture. The novel's plot had branched significantly, but Alaric was a shrewd adversary. He was adapting.
"Duke Theron will be recovering," I murmured. "He'll be weak, disoriented, and potentially suspicious. Can he stand against Alaric's manipulations?"
"My envoys have been successful in subtly sowing seeds of doubt, as planned," Cassian confirmed. "Theron is wary. He suspects foul play, but lacks concrete proof. He trusts Alaric even less now, but he also knows open defiance could be suicidal." Cassian's silver eyes fixed on me. "This Convocation presents a unique opportunity, Seraphine. A chance to strike directly at the heart of Alaric's control, without direct military conflict."
"How?" I asked, stopping my pacing, my full attention on him.
"You possess knowledge he does not," Cassian began, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Knowledge of the hidden Ley lines, the true nature of the 'Crown of Swords and Silk,' and perhaps... weaknesses of his allies, or even Elowen herself, that no one else suspects." He tapped the parchment. "The Convocation will be a grand affair, held in the Imperial Ballroom. Security will be immense, but even Alaric cannot guard against a ghost."
[SYSTEM ALERT]
New Major Quest: "Unmask the Prince"
Objective: Disrupt the Imperial Convocation and expose Alaric's true intentions.
Risk: Extremely High (Imperial Palace, direct confrontation with Alaric/Elowen, discovery means immediate execution).
Reward: Massive Timeline Deviation, Kingdom-wide Shift, New Faction Opportunities.
Failure: Crown Prince Consolidates Power, Your Identity Exposed, Alliance Compromised.
"You want me to go to the Imperial Palace?" I whispered, the audacity of the idea stealing my breath. "The very place I'm supposed to be dead in?"
"Indeed," Cassian replied, his voice resonating with quiet conviction. "You are Seraphine Valtara, dead to the world. No one will be looking for you. But as a ghost, you can whisper truths that no living soul would dare to speak. You can plant seeds of dissent where they will cause the most damage."
He walked over to the ancient map of the palace I had found in his archives, a detailed blueprint of its hidden passages. "I have agents within the palace walls. They can provide you with access to certain concealed routes, service tunnels, and even a disguised uniform to get you inside. Once there, you will be a silent observer, a shadow in the halls, until the opportune moment."
His silver eyes gleamed with a dangerous ambition. "The Crown Prince believes he has averted crisis by calling this Convocation. He believes he controls the narrative. Let us show him the folly of that belief. Let us show him that even the dead can speak, and that their words can unravel a kingdom."
I looked at the intricate map, then at Cassian, a mixture of terror and fierce determination rising within me. This was it. The direct confrontation. The true test of my ability to rewrite this story.
"Very well," I said, my voice steady, though my heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "The ghost attends the Convocation. What information do we need to deliver?"
Cassian smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Everything. Every whisper of truth that will expose the Crown Prince's true nature, shatter Elowen's facade, and turn the tide of the kingdom against its supposed destiny. We will give them a reason to doubt, a reason to fight. And we will begin with a single, devastating truth about the recent 'incidents' that they refuse to acknowledge."