The note weighed heavier than the locket in Clara's palm.
"Trust no one with red in their crest."
She stared at the smudged ink again, heart pounding. She didn't need time to decipher it—she already knew what it meant.
The Council.
Half of them bore crimson in their banners. Red lions. Red roses. Red swords. Blood loyalty to the old King… and maybe even to her father's downfall.
Alaric stood beside her, scanning the charred ground. "Clara… what if this is a trap?"
"It doesn't matter," she whispered. "Because if my father is still fighting from the shadows, then I need to meet him there."
By evening, they returned to the palace, cloaked and quiet, slipping past watchful eyes.
But someone had already noticed.
Cassian waited by the stables, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. "You went to the ruins."
Alaric's tone was steady. "And you were watching again."
"I was protecting her," Cassian said, eyes locking with Clara's. "From what's coming next."
She stepped forward. "Then tell me, Cassian. Which side are you on?"
A long silence.
Then: "I'm on the side that survives."
He walked away without another word.
Later that night, Clara met Elise in the old east wing. The servant girl looked more frightened than usual.
"My lady," she whispered, "someone left this in your old dressing chamber."
Clara unfolded the parchment quickly.
Another message. This time in sharp, deliberate script.
"He lives beneath the name of another. Follow the ink, not the blood."
There was no signature. Just a symbol at the bottom.
A white feather inside a black circle.
Clara's breath hitched. "I've seen this before."
"In your family's crest?" Elise asked.
"No." Clara looked at her. "In the archives."
That same night, Chancellor Varrick walked into Cedric's study, throwing a blood-red token onto the table.
"The girl found the feather."
Cedric smiled without humor. "Then it's time to smoke her out."
Varrick raised a brow. "How?"
Cedric turned to the map behind him and stabbed his finger into the northern edge.
"We burn what's left of her name."
Alaric found Clara pacing in her chamber, the second note clenched in her hand.
"They're trying to lead me," she said. "Or trap me. Maybe both."
He stepped closer. "And yet you'll go."
Clara nodded. "Because hiding won't change anything. My family was erased. Now I know why."
He watched her in silence.
And then, he took her hand.
"If you're walking into fire—then we burn together."
Her eyes softened. "Even if it costs you your crown?"
He leaned in, forehead touching hers.
"Especially then."
[ To be continued...]