The following day began with a summons—not from Corvin or Captain Rael, but from the Royal Palace itself.
A silver raven had arrived at dawn, its eyes gleaming unnaturally as it perched on Serenya's windowsill, delivering a parchment sealed with the emblem of the Regent Queen. Its message was brief:
The lost daughter of House Solmar is hereby commanded to attend court at first bell. Dress accordingly. — Regent Queen Maeriva El'Varyn.
Serenya stood before her wardrobe, fingers tracing the velvet and silk that had appeared overnight. Dresses woven with gold thread, embroidery bearing phoenix sigils, and cloaks lined with fur—clothing meant for a royal, not a fisher girl. The servants, already instructed, pulled her hair into an intricate braid that coiled like flame across her shoulder.
"You look like your mother," one of the older maids whispered. "They won't like that."
When Serenya arrived at the palace, its majesty was almost too much to absorb. Vireth's Royal Court was carved into the cliffside, towering over the sea, its halls filled with towering stained glass, floating lanterns, and polished marble floors that reflected everyone's footsteps—except hers.
The moment she entered, silence fell.
Lords and ladies turned, their masks of politeness barely concealing curiosity, skepticism… and fear.
She could hear the whispers.
"That's her?"
"The flameborn girl from the coast."
"She looks soft. She won't last a month."
But some voices were quiet. Calculating. Watching her not as prey—but as a rival.
At the head of the court stood Queen Regent Maeriva El'Varyn—tall, ethereal, and ice-cold. Her white hair was pinned beneath a crown that was never meant to be hers, and her pale gaze fixed Serenya with a smile that never reached her eyes.
"You arrive at last," Maeriva said. "The flame stirs again. How curious."
Before Serenya could reply, the Queen turned to address the court.
"Lords and ladies, I present to you Serenya Solmar, heir to the lost throne and bearer of the Celestial Flame."
Gasps echoed.
Serenya stepped forward, spine straight despite the hammering in her chest.
"I never claimed a throne," she said, her voice clear. "But I won't run from the blood in my veins."
Maeriva's smile widened a fraction. "We shall see."
Then, another voice spoke—smooth as silk, laced with quiet strength.
"You'll find this court loves to test its flames."
A young man emerged from behind the throne dais, dressed in deep navy and silver, with a sword on his hip and mischief in his sea-colored eyes.
Prince Kael El'Varyn.
The Regent's son.
Serenya recognized him instantly—from her dreams.
He offered a mock bow. "Forgive my mother's frost. She enjoys keeping us all frozen."
"You're the prince," she said, watching him carefully.
He smiled. "Technically. Though no one's sure if I'll be crowned or sacrificed yet."
A murmur of laughter rolled through the court, but his eyes never left hers.
Serenya's skin prickled. There was something beneath his charm—a depth, a storm waiting behind calm waters.
The Queen's voice cut the moment short. "You are here, Solmar, to be seen and tested—not to flirt. We will observe your conduct. Your mind. Your will. Vireth does not kneel to fire without reason."
"Then give me reason to make it kneel," Serenya said, before she could stop herself.
The chamber stilled.
Then… a slow clap from the shadows. A new voice.
"She has teeth. Good. This court is full of wolves."
From the edge of the gallery, a man stepped forward. Tall. Silver-haired. His cloak embroidered with ancient runes, and his gaze unreadable.
Serenya's breath caught.
The man from her dreams.
He met her eyes—and smiled.