Chapter: Chapter Eleven: The Hour of SecretsThe clock ticked past midnight.Eden sat on the edge of her narrow bed, knees drawn in, arms wrapped around herself as if that might still the storm building in her chest.1am. That was the message.She had replayed it over and over in her mind since discovering the cloth in the pillow. Erec wanted to speak with her—alone. But what if he was angry? What if he confronted her lies? What if, worse, he didn’t believe them?Would he protect her the way he had in the cell, when he said nothing at all?Or would he betray her—again?She glanced toward the door, wondering if she should even go. Maybe it wasn’t worth the risk. Maybe—A soft knock cut through the silence.She rose.When she opened the door, the guard was there. The same one as before. Stone-faced, silent, and certain in every movement. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.She followed.The halls were darker than usual, lit by only a few oil sconces that flickered weakly against the castle’s cold stone. The air felt still—too stil
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Chapter: Chapter Ten: A Scrap of TruthThe visits became routine.Every few days, Eden and Annie descended into the stone depths of the castle. Each time, Eden tucked her red curls away beneath the servant’s headwrap. Each time, that one rebellious strand found its way loose again, framing her brow like a secret.Erec rarely spoke.He watched.From his corner, he kept his head low, but his eyes followed her. He noted how long she lingered near the bed, how she folded the sheets, how often she stole glances toward the guard. He was waiting—for what, Eden didn’t know.And in between those visits, there was Cassian.He always waited in her chamber, near the window, hands behind his back, like a patient sculptor inspecting his masterpiece. Each meeting was brief, but Cassian used those moments to refocus her, to draw her further in.He had a way of speaking that made Eden feel chosen. Important. Crucial.But beneath that charm, she felt it.The tension in the air when they stood too close. The way his eyes lingered—not just on
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Chapter: Chapter Nine: The King's HandThe door groaned as it shut behind them.Annie said nothing as she and Eden exited the cell. Their footsteps echoed faintly on the stone, and Eden stayed half a step behind, still hearing the faint rattle of chains in her ears. Her palms felt damp. Her heart beat louder now that it was over.They ascended the stairs in silence, the cold stone turning slowly warmer as the levels rose.At the top, waiting in the archway, was the guard—the same one from the morning of the summons. Eden recognized him instantly, and he gave her a short, expectant nod.Annie glanced toward Eden. “You’ll go with him now.”That was all she said before turning and walking off, her apron already half-full of linens, her pace unbothered—as if what just happened had never happened at all.Eden followed the guard without a word.She didn’t ask where they were going.She already knew.Back to the servant quarters. Back to her new cage.The door creaked open to her chamber.Cassian was already inside.He stood near
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Chapter: Chapter Eight: Behind the MaskThe days blurred together for servants in the castle. There were no clocks, no structured shifts—only rooms to scrub, sheets to fold, and footsteps to memorize. Eden had learned quickly to keep her pace steady, her eyes low, and her mouth mostly shut.Annie, for her part, was efficient and quiet. She didn’t ask questions Eden couldn’t answer, and Eden didn’t press for details Annie wouldn’t give. They worked side by side in the early hours, rotating bedding through sleeping quarters, polishing brass door fixtures, hauling buckets from one wing to another.And then, on the third day, Annie paused at the stairwell that led underground.Eden already knew what it meant.Her breath caught as she tucked her hair under the linen headwrap, fingers fumbling more than usual. Only a single strand slipped loose, hanging just above her brow. It refused to stay put, no matter how tightly she tied the cloth.She followed Annie without a word, their footsteps echoing against the stone stairwell as th
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Chapter: Chapter Seven: The Price of ThreadEden woke to the dull ache of a night lived too deeply.Her head was foggy, her limbs heavy. She didn’t remember falling asleep, only the lingering pulse of music in her ears, and the way that man’s eyes had followed her even after he vanished into the crowd.A knock at the door.She blinked, sat up too quickly. Her room spun.The knock came again—firmer, not impatient, but official.She was still in her dress. She hadn’t bothered to change last night. Just kicked off her shoes, collapsed on the bed, and closed her eyes like she could stall the sunrise.But it came anyway.She opened the door to find Garrick already standing in the shop below, dressed and composed, though his jaw was tense.A royal guard stood just inside the entrance.“Eden Briar?” the guard asked.She nodded, throat dry.“You’re to come with me. Alone.”Garrick's brow furrowed slightly. Eden glanced at him—expecting, hoping. Surely, he would come too. Help her. Walk beside her like always.But he didn’t move.The si
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Chapter: Chapter Six: Velvet and SmokeThe shop closed early.Garrick didn’t explain, and Eden didn’t ask. The silence between them had grown thick in the days since the summons—respectful, restrained, heavy with all the things neither of them could bear to voice aloud.So Eden filled the silence with fabric.She spent the days hunched over her desk, letting thread and needle pull her out of her thoughts. She didn’t ask for help. Didn’t let Garrick see the sketches. The design had lived in her mind long before the palace, but only now had it taken form—stitched in midnight silk, low-backed, and just daring enough to feel like armor.Tonight, it was finished.And now, as she stood before the mirror in her small room above the shop, Eden wasn’t sure if she should wear it… or take it off and hide.Her friends had invited her to a masquerade—one last night out. They didn’t know what tomorrow meant for her.She could stay.She could pretend she never finished the dress. Pretend she wasn’t curious about the edge of her own boldn
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