Two days after Serenya's trial in the vault, the Queen Regent summoned the court for a grand event.
The Night of Masks.
It was a tradition in Vireth—an annual masquerade where alliances were tested, secrets exchanged behind silk and gold, and enemies danced as lovers for one evening. A game of lies, where names were rarely spoken, but fates were quietly decided.
And this year, Serenya Solmar would be the guest of honor.
The palace ballroom was transformed into a place of dream and illusion. The ceiling shimmered like a star-drenched sky. Charmed instruments floated above the dancers, playing music that shifted with emotion. Every noble wore a mask—some shaped like animals, others like ghosts, angels, or demons. Power moved through the room in glances, gestures, whispers.
Serenya's gown was fire-red and black, her shoulders bare, her hair braided and pinned with gold threads. Her mask—a delicate phoenix, feathered with enchanted emberlight—obscured half her face. She felt eyes following her the moment she stepped inside.
Corvin walked beside her, expression unreadable, dressed in a midnight suit and a wolf mask of obsidian.
"You don't have to speak to anyone," he murmured. "Stay near the outer edge if you feel overwhelmed."
But Serenya didn't want to stay hidden.
Let them look, she thought. Let them see the flame and tremble.
Kael appeared not long after, wearing a mask shaped like a silver hawk. He bowed dramatically, offering his hand. "Would the lady honor me with the first dance?"
Serenya laughed despite herself. "Is this part of your political strategy?"
"No," he said smoothly. "It's part of my charm."
She took his hand.
As they stepped into the waltz, the crowd parted. Eyes locked on the pair—the flameborn girl and the queen's son. Each movement was precise, practiced, but beneath it… something stirred. Unspoken questions. Uncertain trust. Tension neither dared name.
"You draw attention," Kael said as they spun. "Some want to test you. Some want to use you."
"And you?" she asked.
"I want to see which way you burn."
Before she could respond, a third presence interrupted them.
A figure clad in silver and deep violet, wearing a mask of a fox with antlers, stepped between them with the grace of shadow.
"May I steal a moment?" the stranger asked, bowing.
Kael hesitated—then released Serenya's hand. "Be careful. Foxes are charming liars."
The stranger smiled beneath the mask. "That's why they're the most fun."
He led Serenya off the dance floor, guiding her toward the terrace where moonlight spilled over the marble floor. His movements were fluid, deliberate. There was something familiar in his posture, in the way he watched her without watching.
"I know you," Serenya said slowly. "But not from court."
The stranger reached up and removed his mask.
Kaelith.
Dressed in noble attire, far from the shadows of the council chamber, his silver hair caught the moonlight like a blade.
"You shouldn't trust anyone here," he said softly. "Not Kael. Not Corvin. Especially not the Queen."
"Then why should I trust you?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then: "Because I don't want the throne. And that makes me one of the few who doesn't need to lie to you."
Serenya narrowed her eyes. "You think I'm going after the throne?"
He stepped closer. "Not yet. But you will. And when you do, I want to know who you'll be."
She didn't move away. "And if I burn it all down?"
Kaelith's smile returned—cool and amused. "Then make sure you burn the rot, not the roots."
From the ballroom, a bell rang—clear and sharp.
A signal.
Kaelith's expression shifted.
"Your real test starts soon," he murmured. "Watch for poison disguised as poetry. And never eat anything the Queen offers with her own hand."
He slipped the mask back on and vanished into the crowd like smoke.
Serenya stared after him, heart pounding.
Poison disguised as poetry…
Inside, the Queen raised a goblet in a silent toast—her pale eyes locked with Serenya's across the ballroom.
And beside her throne, a servant brought forward a tray bearing a single goblet… and a slice of honeyed starfruit—the same fruit Serenya had once loved as a child.
She stepped back into the light, spine straight, mask steady.
If this was a game…
Then she was ready to play.