The masked intruder didn't move. Ash still drifted around him like falling embers. His voice was hollow, soaked in something ancient.
"She carries the blood of the First Queen," he rasped. "The Court has named her rightful heir."
Mariluna's mouth went dry. "Who is she?"
The mask tilted. "Not who. What."
Before Mariluna could ask, Lorenzo's magic surged forward, a flare of gold-black light that cracked the floor beneath them. The blast hit the intruder head-on—yet he didn't fall. He staggered once, then straightened, smoke rising from his shoulders.
"The Bone Guard does not die so easily."
Lorenzo swore under his breath. "Move."
He grabbed Mariluna's wrist and yanked her through the chamber doors. The air outside was colder, heavier, as if the Veil itself had thickened.
"Who the hell is the Bone Guard?" she shouted.
"They serve the Court's will," Lorenzo replied grimly, "but only when something worse stirs. If they're here… then something has changed. Fast."
Behind them, the floor shook.
The intruder was following.
From below, the walls groaned—the sound of old wards failing. The manor was no longer safe.
"I summoned David," Lorenzo said, dragging her down the staircase. "We have less than a minute."
They burst into the war room just as David appeared through a hidden door, swords strapped to his back, twin pistols glowing cold silver.
"What is that thing?" he asked.
"Bone Guard," Mariluna said quickly. "He said the Court's chosen a new heir. Someone tied to the First Queen."
David swore. "That means the throne is no longer empty."
Mariluna froze. The Empty Crown. It had called to her—had pulsed when she touched it.
Then why hadn't it accepted her?
A deep rumble echoed through the stone halls.
"Upstairs," David muttered. "He's coming."
Lorenzo turned to Mariluna. "We don't run from this."
She nodded. "Then we kill it."
The plan came together in seconds.
Mariluna would draw him in—use the strange pull the Bone Guard seemed to have toward her. Lorenzo would circle behind, where the runes were weakest. David would take high ground and shoot if anything went wrong.
The intruder entered the chamber exactly as planned.
He didn't speak this time. He didn't have to.
Mariluna stepped forward, her mother's dagger in one hand, the cursed blade from the throne room in the other. Her magic burned hot in her chest.
"Come for me, then," she whispered.
The creature lunged.
Mariluna dodged the first strike—barely. His claws tore through stone. She sliced upward, the cursed blade catching his shoulder. Black ichor hissed.
Behind him, Lorenzo moved. Fast. A blur of shadow and fire. His hands lit with Veillight, carving into the intruder's back.
David fired.
Three shots, each singing with ward-breaking sigils.
The Bone Guard howled and fell to one knee.
But even broken, he didn't stop.
He lunged again—this time for Mariluna.
She didn't move.
Instead, she raised both blades—and crossed them in front of her chest.
The Court's spell. Her blood. Her mother's legacy.
It all sang in one moment.
Light exploded from her skin—no longer blue or gold, but something else entirely.
Silver fire.
The Bone Guard hit it head-on.
And burned.
Ash and bone scattered across the floor.
Silence followed.
Lorenzo dropped to one knee, breathing hard. "You… called the old flame."
Mariluna's hands trembled. "I didn't mean to."
David crouched by the remains. "We need to move. If they sent one, they'll send more."
Mariluna looked down at her scorched hands. "Let them come."
The manor burned.
Not in flame—but in memory. The wards were corrupted now, the sigils humming wrong. The Veil had stained them. The estate no longer felt like shelter. It felt like bait.
They relocated before dawn.
A forgotten stronghold in the western mountains—a place once sacred to the Queen's lineage, abandoned when the last of her blood was thought lost.
Now, they knew better.
Mariluna stood at the edge of the high balcony, looking down at the mist-draped forest below. The air here felt old. Watching.
"They'll come for me again," she said quietly. "And next time, it won't be just one."
Lorenzo stood beside her, dressed in armor dark as onyx. "Let them."
She turned to him. "Who is she, Lorenzo? This 'heir' they've chosen?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he handed her something—a sealed letter, worn and cracked.
Mariluna opened it.
The handwriting was her mother's.
**If they ever find her, you must flee.**
**The child they made with the First Queen's blood is not a girl at all. She is a curse made flesh.**
**I named her once, long ago. Not to claim her. But to remember the cost.**
**Her name is Seraphine.**
Mariluna stared at the name until it blurred.
"She's my sister," she whispered.
Lorenzo nodded once. "Half-sister. Bred in the old chambers. Raised in the Veil. Trained to do what you would not."
Mariluna's throat closed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because your mother begged me not to."
The truth crashed down like a wave. She had not been the only one hidden. Not the only secret child.
"Where is she now?"
Lorenzo's gaze darkened. "If the Court named her heir, she'll be hunting you by nightfall."
David entered, sword slung low, brow furrowed. "There's movement in the forest. Cloaked riders. Four of them."
Lorenzo's voice sharpened. "Scouts."
Mariluna held up the letter. "They want Seraphine on the throne. Not because she's worthy—but because she's controllable."
"She's not," Lorenzo said, almost to himself. "Not anymore. She killed her last Hand."
David tensed. "We need reinforcements. Allies."
Mariluna nodded. "Then we rally the Forgotten Houses. The ones who still remember what the Court stole."
David blinked. "Those Houses were wiped out centuries ago."
"No," she said, eyes bright. "Not all. My mother left clues—coded in her journal."
She crossed the chamber, pulled the diary from her bag, and turned to a page marked with strange, spiraling glyphs.
"These aren't words. They're coordinates."
Lorenzo studied them, then slowly smiled. "The Deadrose Bastion."
David looked between them. "I thought that was a myth."
Mariluna's grip tightened. "It's real. And if we can reach them before Seraphine does, we might have a chance."
A long silence.
Then Lorenzo said, "You understand what this means?"
Mariluna nodded.
"I will have to kill my sister."
"No," she replied. "We don't know her yet."
"But she'll know you," Lorenzo said grimly. "And she will not hesitate."
That night, Mariluna dreamed of fire.
Of a girl in black armor, her eyes glowing like molten gold, her voice echoing with something far older than the Court itself.
"I was born of the same blood," the girl whispered, standing atop a throne made of bone and steel. "But I am not like you."
"You run from it. I became it."
Mariluna woke with a start, breath shallow.
She did not sleep again.
By morning, they rode.
Toward the Bastion.
Toward war.