The chamber pulsed with energy long after the voice had vanished. Aria stood frozen, her thoughts spinning.
I'm the heir?
Her hands trembled as she looked at Lucien, who was just as stunned. His jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the open book like it had personally betrayed him.
"That voice," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "how could it know my name?"
Lucien shut the book abruptly. "That wasn't just a voice. That was the manor itself. The magic here… it's old. Older than even my family's rule."
He turned toward her slowly, and for the first time, Aria saw something unfamiliar in his eyes.
Fear.
Not fear for her—but of her.
"I don't understand," she said. "My mother was just a seamstress. My father died in a fire when I was five—"
"Or so you were told," Lucien interrupted, his voice hardening. "What if they weren't your real parents? What if they were protecting you… hiding you?"
Aria backed away slightly, her mind racing. "That means my whole life… everything… has been a lie."
"You're more than you think, Aria," he said, stepping closer. "But if the manor recognizes you as the heir, that means someone has gone to great lengths to cover it up."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "Why would someone hide me?"
"To protect you," Lucien said, "or to control the line of power."
That night, Aria lay in the cold canopy bed in her chambers, the locket clutched in her fist. She couldn't sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Seraphine screaming… and the voice whispering again.
He must never know the truth.
Who was he?
Lucien?
Her father?
Or someone worse?
She sat up abruptly. Her skin prickled. The temperature had dropped again.
Then she saw it.
A shadow standing at the foot of her bed.
She opened her mouth to scream, but it raised a finger to its lips.
"Don't be afraid, Aria," the shadow said, a woman's voice laced with pain. "I've come to show you."
Aria blinked—and suddenly, she wasn't in her room anymore.
She stood in a burning hall of the past. Fire consumed tapestries. Screams echoed through stone walls.
And there, in the center, a woman with wild red eyes and silver hair held a baby in her arms.
Aria gasped.
That baby… it was her.
"Hide her!" the woman screamed, handing the infant to a cloaked figure. "They mustn't find her!"
Then—an arrow pierced the woman's back. She fell to her knees, blood spilling across the floor.
The cloaked figure ran into the shadows, cradling baby Aria.
The vision faded.
Aria collapsed to her knees, back in her bedchamber, panting and sweating.
The ghost's voice echoed in her ears:
You are the last.
The next morning, Lucien barged into her room. "Aria, something's happened."
Still shaken from the night, she stood slowly. "What now?"
"The Nightshade Crest," he said, holding out his arm. The tattoo of his family's crest burned red. "It only glows when the heir is in danger."
Aria swallowed. "What kind of danger?"
"There's a traitor in the manor," Lucien said darkly. "And they're coming for you.
Aria's heart pounded. "A traitor? Who would want to hurt me?"
Lucien's eyes darkened. "There are people who've sworn loyalty to the current bloodline—my bloodline. If they discover you are the true heir, they'll see you as a threat. And they won't hesitate to remove threats."
Aria backed away, her mind still reeling from the vision, from the shadowy woman's words: You are the last.
She was no longer just a girl trapped in a mysterious marriage—she was a target.
Lucien stepped forward. "You need to stay hidden. Until we uncover who it is."
"No," she said firmly. "I've been hidden my whole life. If they're coming for me, I want to know who they are too."
Lucien studied her for a long moment. "You've changed."
"I've remembered."
Later that afternoon, they descended into the manor's restricted wing—known as The Sealed Corridor—a part of the estate locked for over a century. The air was stale, and ancient magic pulsed from the walls like a heartbeat.
Lucien pressed his palm against the stone crest embedded in the wall. With a groan, the stone door slid open.
Inside were scrolls, forbidden texts, and a wall of portraits—portraits of every heir in the bloodline.
Aria froze. Her legs grew weak.
At the far right end, almost hidden, was a painting.
A woman with long black hair, pale skin, and haunting violet eyes.
"She looks like me," Aria whispered.
Lucien nodded grimly. "She's Lady Evangeline—the true heir who vanished during the rebellion nearly two decades ago."
"My mother?" Aria said, her voice breaking.
"It's possible," Lucien admitted. "There were rumors she bore a child in secret before she died. But no one ever confirmed it."
Aria stepped closer to the portrait, her chest aching. "I saw her last night—in a vision. She… she died protecting me."
Lucien exhaled. "Then there's no doubt anymore. You are her daughter."
He pulled a scroll from a locked case. "If we can unlock your inheritance—your power—it might protect you."
But as he unrolled the scroll, a sudden gust of cold air rushed through the room.
The torches flickered.
And then, a scream echoed through the corridor.
Aria and Lucien turned sharply.
Footsteps.
Running.
A guard stumbled into view, blood staining his tunic.
"They're here," he gasped. "The Council—they know about her."
He collapsed.
Lucien's jaw tightened. "They're moving faster than I thought."
Aria's hand instinctively reached for the locket at her neck. It was warm again. Almost… burning.
She looked at Lucien. "What now?"
"We fight," he said. "But not without awakening what's inside you first."
Scene transition: Nightfall
They stood in the center of the moon garden, where ancient rituals were once performed.
Lucien drew a circle around Aria in chalk and salt, his voice low and steady as he chanted in Old Tongue. The winds stirred. Her skin tingled.
The locket pulsed.
Then—pain.
Aria dropped to her knees, clutching her chest. It felt like fire ripping through her veins, like a dam inside her had just burst.
Flashes of memory—
Her mother's eyes.
A silver crown.
Blood in the snow.
A dagger etched with her name.
And then…
Silence.
Aria rose slowly. Her hair whipped around her as energy surrounded her like a living force. Her eyes glowed faint violet.
Lucien stepped back. "You've awakened."
She turned to him, her voice calmer, deeper, not entirely hers.
"They won't take what's mine."
Lucien stared at Aria, momentarily speechless. The aura around her had changed completely. It was ancient… powerful… terrifying.
"You…" he said cautiously, "you're not the same girl I brought to this manor."
Aria's lips curled into a slight smirk, though her eyes were distant. "Maybe that girl was never real. Maybe she was just waiting to wake up."
The energy around her surged again. Flowers in the moon garden began to tremble. The leaves rustled even though there was no wind. The manor, as if recognizing her rebirth, released a deep, echoing creak from within its very walls.
But the moment shattered when a sharp sound cracked through the air—an arrow.
Lucien reacted instantly, pulling Aria behind him as the arrow pierced the center of the ritual circle, embedding into the earth with a violent hum. The salt line sizzled, broken.
"Sniper!" Lucien hissed.
Aria gritted her teeth. "They're watching us."
A dark figure appeared on the rooftop in the distance. Before Lucien could raise his weapon, the figure disappeared into the shadows.
"We have to go," he said, grabbing her hand. "Now."
They raced through the garden path back toward the manor, footsteps pounding in unison. As they reached the back entrance, the doors slammed shut on their own.
"Someone's already inside," Aria whispered.
Lucien cursed under his breath. "We need to get to the North Wing. It's enchanted, warded against intruders."
They took the hidden passage behind the library, winding through narrow stone tunnels lit only by the flicker of Aria's energy.
As they ran, she could feel her senses sharpening—she could hear voices through walls, feel vibrations through the ground, and worst of all… she felt a presence.
Watching her.
Waiting.
They made it to the North Wing just as an explosion rocked the lower floor. Books flew off shelves. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Lucien turned to her. "We have to prepare for war."
Aria looked back at the smoke drifting through the air. Her heartbeat had steadied. Fear had melted away.
"They started this war," she said. "Now I'll finish it."
---
Somewhere Else in the Manor…
A hooded man stood over a crystal orb glowing with purple mist. His lips curled into a grin.
"She's awakened," he whispered. "Just as the prophecy foretold."
Behind him, cloaked figures knelt. The traitor among them spoke.
"What now, my lord?"
The man's grin widened. "Now, we let her think she's safe… and then we take everything."