The city of Calvaren buzzed with an unnatural calm, the kind that blanketed a battlefield just before blood was spilled. Velas stood at the edge of the inn's balcony, staring out at the gilded rooftops and spires catching the dying sun. Beneath that golden glow, shadows coiled—secrets, whispers, and the echo of danger.
Inside the room, Seraphina leaned on the edge of the bed, brushing out her silver-blonde hair, but her eyes never left him.
"You're not going to sleep?" she asked softly.
Velas didn't turn. "I did. But dreams aren't restful when the past keeps clawing through them."
"Nightmares again?"
He nodded slowly, remembering the vision. The throne room soaked in firelight. Chains around his limbs. A crown of bone pressed to his head by unseen hands.
Seraphina rose and crossed the room to him. She placed her hand gently on his back, her fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder. "You never speak of them."
"They're warnings," Velas said. "Or promises. I'm not sure which is worse."
Silence stretched between them, heavy but comforting.
A low knock disrupted the moment. Mira stepped inside without waiting. Her movements were crisp, controlled, as if she were the commander of a battlefield.
"The invitations are sent," Mira announced. "Every noble house in Calvaren will be at the banquet tomorrow night. Including Duke Harven."
Velas's mouth tightened. "Good."
Seraphina's brow furrowed. "Are we ready for this? That man has eyes everywhere. If he suspects—"
"He already suspects something," Mira interrupted. "But suspicion isn't proof. And we only need one slip."
Velas finally turned, stepping into the room's candlelight. "The banquet is a stage. We let them dance, smile, drink... while we tighten the noose."
---
**Later That Night**
The inn's lower floor was dim and filled with low murmurs. Velas sat at a corner table, sipping bitter wine, eyes scanning the faces of nobles, merchants, mercenaries—each one a potential pawn or predator.
The Legacy stirred in his mind. *You play their games well, little king. But you could break them instead. Burn the masks. Claim the city.*
Not yet, Velas answered silently. Patience.
*They won't show you mercy.*
I'm not asking for mercy. I'm giving them rope.
His thoughts were interrupted by Mira sliding into the seat across from him. She had traded her usual armor for a sharp crimson gown, her raven hair pinned high. She looked like a queen of knives.
"You blend in surprisingly well," Velas remarked.
She raised an eyebrow. "I was raised in courts before I learned to kill in alleys."
He offered a faint smile. "Tomorrow, we expose Harven. Tonight... we play the part."
Her gaze darkened. "And after tomorrow?"
Velas looked out the window, where the moon hung like a blade over the city. "Then the real war begins."
---
**The Next Morning**
The three of them gathered in the war room Mira had arranged at the inn. Maps covered the walls, and wax-sealed letters were strewn across the table.
"The Duke's spies frequent the Orchid House," Mira said. "We leak just enough truth—Velas's appearance, his possible connection to the old bloodlines. Let them grow curious."
"And once they come?" Seraphina asked.
Velas stepped forward and pointed to the map. "We corner them. Harven's men will try to test me. I'll let them. And I'll give them something to fear."
Mira smirked. "Are you finally going to reveal the Legacy?"
He shook his head. "No. But I'll remind them I'm not someone they can control."
---
**That Night – Hours Before the Banquet**
As servants bustled about dressing them, Velas caught his reflection in the mirror. He wore midnight black, the embroidery like creeping vines of gold across his chest. Not royal robes. Not yet. But a declaration all the same.
Seraphina entered in a flowing silver dress, her face uncertain. "Are you afraid?"
"Yes," Velas said honestly. "But I'll use that fear. Just like I'll use theirs."
She stepped close and took his hand. "Promise me... you won't become what they say you are."
He looked into her eyes. "I promise nothing, Seraphina. Except this—I'll never be theirs."
She didn't argue. Instead, she leaned up and kissed him softly, and for a moment, the world was quiet.
Mira's voice broke the silence. "It's time."
The three walked into the night, toward a palace filled with liars and threats. Velas's heart pounded not with fear—but with anticipation.
Tonight, the masks would crack.
Tonight, the heir of shadows would step into the light.
---