Chapter 34

The air above the fortress cliffs was restless, heavy with the storm that never quite broke. Black wings cut through the clouds as a raven circled thrice, then descended with a cry that sounded more like a warning than a song. Serenya tracked it, her eyes narrowing, her pulse quickening. She had been waiting for this.

The raven landed on the battlement before her, feathers slick with rain. Tied to its leg was a strip of parchment sealed with wax in the shape of a broken crown. She knew that sigil—it belonged to no noble house but to the underground order known only as the Shadow Covenant. They were mercenaries, informants, and assassins, their allegiance bought and bartered by bargains whispered at midnight.

Serenya hesitated. Her father had once told her that every choice made in shadow would someday demand a price in light. She broke the seal anyway.

The note was short:

Meet us at the Hollow Cavern by moonrise.

One truth for one debt.

Bring nothing but your oath.

Her hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the knowledge that this was the only path forward. Secrets were strangling the kingdom—hers most of all.

Kaelen appeared silently at her side, as though drawn by the tension written on her face. His presence was like a shadow stitched to her—comforting, and yet dangerous to her carefully guarded heart.

“You’ve received something,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking to the raven, now perched and watching them with unnerving intelligence.

Serenya folded the parchment quickly, pressing it against her palm. “A summons,” she admitted. “From the Covenant.”

Kaelen’s jaw tightened. “They deal in poison and secrets. What could they possibly want with you?”

“Not want,” Serenya corrected. “Offer.” She met his eyes, steady despite the storm building within her. “A bargain.”

By moonrise, she stood at the mouth of Hollow Cavern, Kaelen close behind her despite her protests. The cavern yawned like a beast’s maw, its jagged teeth of stone glittering with dripping water. Shadows moved within, indistinct and restless.

A figure stepped forward, cloaked in raven feathers, the hood casting their face in darkness. Only their voice betrayed them—low, melodic, and strangely ageless.

“Serenya Vale,” the figure said, bowing their head slightly. “Daughter of a hidden crown. We have waited long for you.”

The weight of her hidden name in their mouth struck her like a blade. Kaelen stiffened, hand instinctively on his sword.

“You know me,” Serenya said slowly. “Then you also know the danger in speaking that name aloud.”

The figure chuckled softly, like the flutter of wings. “Names are only dangerous when shouted in courts and council halls. Here, in the dark, they are simply truths. And truths are what we deal in.”

The Covenant’s emissary produced a small vial of liquid, swirling with threads of silver. “This is Raven’s Draught. One sip binds oath to shadow. You swear upon it, and the bargain becomes unbreakable.”

Kaelen growled, stepping forward. “You dare ask her to drink something cursed?”

The emissary tilted their head, amused. “Not cursed, knight. Consecrated. By this vial, bargains live or die. We offer truth. She offers debt. That is the way of our covenant.”

Serenya studied the vial, the moonlight catching its shimmer. If she drank, she would be bound. No betrayal, no lies, no retreat. But in return… a truth she had no other way to obtain.

“What truth do you offer?” she asked.

The emissary smiled beneath their hood. “The truth of your mother’s death.”

Her breath caught. She had been told her mother died of fever, but whispers had always tangled around that story. Poison. Betrayal. Murder. And now—confirmation.

Serenya extended her hand. Kaelen seized her wrist. “Serenya, don’t. This is their trap. Secrets have claws—you bind yourself to one, and it will bleed you forever.”

She met his eyes, her voice a whisper. “I have lived my whole life in the dark. If I am to wear a crown, I must know what shadows shaped it.”

The emissary handed her the vial. Serenya uncorked it, the scent sharp, metallic, like stormwater laced with iron. She raised it to her lips and drank. The liquid burned down her throat, leaving a taste of ash and starlight. Her body shuddered as the oath carved itself into her bones.

A raven’s cry echoed in the cavern.

“It is done,” the emissary said. “Your mother was murdered. Not by fever, not by fate. She was poisoned.”

Serenya’s heart stopped. “By whom?”

The emissary stepped closer, whispering the name like a curse.

“By Thalric Veynor.”

The ruthless duke. The man already clawing his way toward the throne.

Kaelen’s eyes widened with fury. “If that is true, then he has committed high treason.”

The emissary’s voice was calm, almost cruel in its patience. “Truths demand debts. Now you owe the Covenant. And we will come to claim it when the hour strikes.”

Serenya felt the weight of the oath settle heavy on her chest. Her mother’s death, her hidden identity, her forbidden love—all threads weaving into a snare she could no longer escape.

But for the first time, she knew where to aim her fire.

As she and Kaelen emerged from the cavern, the moon slipping behind storm clouds, he caught her arm. “You’ve bound yourself to them,” he said harshly. “And for what? A truth that will drag us into war?”

Serenya turned, fire in her eyes despite the tremor in her voice. “War was always coming, Kaelen. At least now, I know where the blade was first drawn.”

The raven that had carried the message followed them, circling overhead. Its cry split the night, a sound like steel being unsheathed.

And Serenya, hidden heiress of a kingdom in peril, whispered to herself:

“Then let it be war.”