“Who’s coming for you?” Penelope said, alarmed, as her body tensed.

I gathered my wits, then picked up my teacup, resigned to what was coming.

“Imperial guards,” I said in a deceptively calm voice. “I’m to be arrested for treason.”

Penelope gasped. “Couldn’t you have led with that instead of sipping tea like it’s a mild inconvenience?”

“What was I supposed to do? Scream, flail, and stab the butler on my way out?”

It’s not that I didn’t understand the seriousness. I did. But when your world collapses twice in one week, you either break down or make jokes. Guess which one I picked.

She jumped to her feet. “Then we have to get you out of here!”

“I don’t have time. I’m sure my father sent me this message knowing they would already be arriving.”

My friend frantically looked around the room. Did she think she could somehow hide me?

“Dear Penny,” I said solemnly, unshed tears glistening in my eyes, “as your dearest friend, I hereby release you from involvement in my impending doom.”

The knock at the door was polite.

Too polite.

Penelope whispered, “Do they teach that in arrest school? The ‘knock of doom’ module?”

But the sound echoed through the Percival estate as if it vibrated through my bones.

I grabbed Penelope’s hand and rushed us to the front entrance. We arrived just as the butler opened the grand double doors.

The imperial guards filled the entryway, their navy blue uniforms stark against the warm glow of the chandeliers. At their head stood a man in the silver-plated armor of the Emperor’s personal enforcers.

“By order of His Imperial Majesty,” the man announced, voice calm but firm, “Cassandra Inglerad is to be taken into custody for conspiracy against the Crown.”

A hush fell over the room.

Penelope took an instinctive step in front of me. “You must be mistaken.”

The officer didn’t so much as blink. “There is no mistake, Lady Percival. She will come willingly, or we will take her by force.”

“I won’t let you take her!” Penelope cried. “I’ll have you know I passed fencing,” she added, even as she looked wildly around for something sharp that wasn't just a letter opener.

The ever-loyal Percival staff also attempted to stop them, and their frantic pleas drew additional staff into the room.

It was futile.

The guards were there for a reason.

“Penelope!” I said, grabbing her arm so she didn’t get hurt.

I exhaled, waiting for my friend to look at me. When she finally did, tears streamed down her face.

“Cassandra,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding defeated.

“It’s alright.”

“It is not alright,” she hissed through her tears. “This is absurd.”

“I know,” I murmured back. “But fighting them here won’t help me.”

Penelope’s jaw tightened, but she nodded.

I turned to the officer, keeping my back straight. “I will go willingly.”

The guards moved in swiftly, binding my wrists with enchanted restraints. Magic pulsed through the metal—cold, absolute.

I had been expecting this, but still, my stomach twisted.

I met Penelope’s gaze one last time as they led me out, and in her eyes, I saw what I had always known.

Penelope Percival was the only person in this world who truly loved me.

At least I would die knowing that.

The Imperial Dungeons

The scent of mildew and unwashed stone filled my nose. Shackles clinked in the distance, a rhythmic reminder of what this place was meant to do.

Break people.

I sat on the edge of the narrow cot, my hands still bound, though the magic had faded now that I was contained within imperial walls. My mind raced, replaying every moment of the last few days.

The betrayal.

The decree.

The way my parents had let it happen without so much as lifting a finger to stop it.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, slow and deliberate.

I didn’t look up as the cell door groaned open.

“I thought I’d find you sulking,” Brynda’s voice lilted through the space, light and mocking. “Though I expected tears. No dramatics even on a day like this, dear cousin?”

“You must be exhausted,” I said flatly. “Dragging your ego all the way down here.”

I forced myself to stay still, to keep my expression carefully blank as I lifted my gaze to meet hers.

She was dressed finely—far too finely for a simple visit to the dungeons. Her golden hair was fashionably styled, not a hair out of place. She need not say a word–that satisfied smirk said it all.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” I rasped, my throat dry. “Gloating takes effort, after all.”

Brynda laughed. I used to love hearing that laugh. Now, it made my skin crawl.

“Oh, Cassandra. You wound me.” She stepped closer, tracing a gloved finger along one of the iron bars. “You must be wondering how this happened.”

I didn’t take the bait.

She hummed, amused by my silence. “You should’ve left the capital when you had the chance,” she sighed. “Before your reputation did.” 

She glanced at my messy hair and dirty dress, looking pleased. “I told your mother you were stubborn, but she still held out hope that you’d see reason.”

A sharp pain twisted in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. “Baroness Inglerad,” I said coolly, “isn’t in a position to care anymore. She had her chance.”

“Ah,” Brynda said, the evil glee thick in her voice. “You haven’t heard.”

I schooled my features, not giving her the satisfaction that I was interested.

“Your parents were stripped of their titles, and their assets were given to their nearest living relative.”

This time, I couldn’t hide my shock. “Y-you mean…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t want to know the truth.

“That’s right,” Brynda said with a light laugh. “As their niece, I’m their only living relative. You’re now looking at the new Baroness Inglerad.”

“Baroness of Backstabbing would be more fitting,” I muttered. 

I remained silent for a beat but couldn’t help mumbling, “She made her choice. Both of them did.”

“And so did Lorran.”

For the first time, my fingers curled into fists.

Brynda’s smirk widened. “Oh, don’t be so tense. He did hesitate, you know. Just for a moment. But in the end, he signed the statement confirming your treason. Quite convincing, really. A career in theater might’ve suited him better.”

The words hit harder than I wanted them to. Lorran had signed the statement.

Not just left me.

Not just humiliated me.

He had condemned me.

Brynda must have seen something in my face because she tilted her head, feigning sympathy. “Oh, Cassie,” she murmured. “You were always so proud. But look where it got you.”

“Still better than where your morals got you,” I replied through gritted teeth.

I inhaled slowly through my nose, forcing my heartbeat to steady. 

Then, I smiled.

It wasn’t a kind smile. Nor was it a defeated one.

It was the shrewd, knowing smile that implied the secrets only I knew.

“Enjoy your moment, Brynda,” I said softly. “Because one day, you’ll be standing exactly where I am.”

Her smirk flickered—just for a second.

Then she laughed again, spinning on her heel. “We’ll see, cousin.”

A Raven’s Watch

Far above the dungeons, perched on the highest spire of the imperial palace, a raven watched. Its black eyes reflected the city lights, its claws gripping stone.

It had been waiting.

And soon, its master would receive its message.

The game had only just begun.

The raven soared past the bustling streets, past the imperial palace, past the glowing lanterns of the noble districts.

It did not stop until it reached a grand estate.

A candle flickered behind an open window, and the raven glided inside, landing on a sturdy oak desk.

A man sat in the chair, his sharp features illuminated by the dim glow. He turned slowly, his piercing gaze settling on the bird as it fluffed its feathers.

Archduke Evan Cromwell.

He leaned back slightly, arms crossed.

“Giavella,” he called out, watching the raven with eyes that had seen too much in their lifetime. “Do you have news?”

The bird let out an assertive, knowing caw.

Evan chuckled.

“Cassandra Inglerad.” His smile grew. “It seems our paths are about to cross once more.”