The capital's spires rose like spears against the morning sky, draped in gold and prophecy.
Ashara rode into the city gates under a banner she had not yet claimed—not the crown, but something older, carved into the whispering flame of the divine artifact pulsing quietly at her side. The Heart of Echoes now rested in a sealed velvet satchel tucked beneath her cloak, but even hidden, it throbbed against her like a second pulse.
Ezekiel rode beside her, silent and sharp-eyed. Kallad trailed behind, his posture lazy but his eyes—never still. Since the forest trial, tension had coiled between the three of them like unspoken chords in a symphony none dared to strike first.
System Status:
✦ Artifact Bond: Stable
✦ Divine Interference Level: Moderate
✦ New Threat Registered: Infiltration
A fate thread has entered the Court. Identity masked. Intent: Unclear.
Ashara narrowed her eyes as the palace gates came into view.
The court was shifting. And someone new had arrived.
The Glass Court
Morning court was in full swing by the time Ashara entered the throne hall—her presence unannounced, her steps deliberate.
Gasps whispered through the air like blades.
Clad in raven-black velvet embroidered with silver thorns, her shoulders squared, her crownless brow held high, Ashara was no longer merely the emperor's disgraced daughter. She was a revenant walking in daylight, and they knew it.
The High Priestess turned toward her slowly from the center of the dais, flanked by a trio of crimson-robed disciples.
"Princess Ashara," she said, voice serene but strained, "we had not expected your return so soon."
"No," Ashara replied, her voice cool. "Because you thought I'd be dead."
System Alert: Divine Echo Detected
✦ Priestess Ione of the Crimson Faith
✦ Hidden Title: Voice of the Withering Sun
✦ Affiliation: Bound to Celestial Seat – God of Scorch
✦ Threat Level: Critical
✦ Weakness: Ritual Disruption
Ashara's gaze flickered.
She had known the priestess was involved in her downfall—but the System now confirmed it: Ione served one of the same divine forces that had tampered with fate itself.
"Where I go is no longer your concern," Ashara said. "Unless your god wishes to challenge mine."
Gasps again.
Ione's lips thinned.
"I serve the empire, not my own ego."
"But you've mistaken treason for devotion," Ashara countered. "And faith for a leash. I do not wear yours anymore."
✦ Loyalty Shift: Court Watchers +12%
✦ Authority Resonance: Moderate
Divine Backlash Imminent — Factional Tension Rising
Ezekiel moved closer, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Kallad remained against the pillar, watching. Waiting.
Just as the priestess stepped forward, a new voice interrupted.
"How refreshing. I feared the empire's court was all rusted steel and dull puppetry."
A man stepped from the edge of the chamber, trailed by two foreign guards and a herald bearing a scroll in Elven script.
He was tall, sun-browned, dressed in pale gold silks and a deep crimson cloak clasped with a carved bone brooch. His hair was long and braided back, and his eyes—an unnatural, shifting gold—locked onto Ashara with curious delight.
"Forgive the interruption," he said, bowing low. "I am Prince Caelum of Varenthia, envoy of the Sea-Temple Accord."
Ashara's stomach tightened.
System Update:
✦ New Fate Thread Detected
— Alias: "Prince Caelum"
— True Identity: Masked
✦ Divine Affinity: Undeclared
✦ Loyalty: Unknown
❖ Interest in Host: 72%
❖ Caution Recommended
Ezekiel stepped closer, instinctively.
Kallad straightened.
Ashara offered nothing but a calm nod. "Varenthia has not sent a delegation in a decade."
"We were waiting," Caelum said with a smile, "for someone interesting enough to receive us."
-------------------
Later that evening, Ashara stood alone in her private chambers, fingers brushing the crystal heart as it pulsed softly beneath her robes.
She had sensed it clearly during court: the priestess's god—Scorch—was agitated. The Heart of Echoes was a rival relic, older than the faith that now tried to control the empire.
System Prompt:
✦ Unlock Artifact Vision?
— Warning: May reveal hidden betrayals.
— Cost: 20 Energy
She confirmed.
The world around her dimmed—and the heart bloomed.
A vision surged forward:
The High Priestess kneeling before a fractured altar. Kallad's father—once emperor—signing a pact in ash and fire. A hooded figure whispering: "Let the first daughter fall. She's too close to the root."
Ashara gasped, stumbling back.
It hadn't just been court politics.
Her execution had been divine strategy.
And worse—it was not over.
--------------------
That night, as she leaned over maps of border unrest, Ezekiel entered without knocking.
"You should rest," he said, soft.
Ashara didn't look up. "Resting gets you killed."
He crossed to her side, gaze lingering on her face. "So does trusting no one."
She met his eyes—and for a brief moment, her armor cracked.
"I don't need a knight," she whispered.
Ezekiel's voice was low. "Good. I'm not a knight. I'm your sword."
Then—gently—he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
"You bleed for the empire. Let someone bleed for you."