...Road to the capital

The road to the capital was longer than imagined, each mile a measure of how much things could change entirely for me. Kellan’s watchful gaze, his presence was constant - not spoken, not overt, but in the tilt of his shoulder, the shift of his shadow. I kept my head high, tracing the folds of forest and hill, trying to tell myself I was leaving one danger for another.

It was a messy ride in the carriage due to bumbs and podholes. Every clink of a horse’s hoof against iron bridle sounded like a warning.

“You’re quiet,” Kellan said finally, voice low

“I’m thinking,” I said , “About the King, about Rowan…”

His hand brushed mine,. “Do not let thoughts of him weaken you,” he said firmly, grasping his right hand on my lap squeezing it a little as he spoke. It gave me a certain feeling

I swallowed. “How can I not?”

The capital came into view like a fortress of stone and smoke, towers scraping the sky and walls that looked built to hold back not just armies, but life itself. To me, it looks a place that demanded submission, and knew how to take it- and I knew I'll be it's captive with due time

The carriage stopped before the palace gates. Guards in black and silver, scanned me with curiosity as if wondering why someone like myself is looking for here. Kellan dismounted first. “Stay close,” he murmured.

Inside, the halls were vast, echoing with the shuffle of servants and the hushed conversation of nobles. I felt like a shadow in a room, their eyes looked as if they could see every mistake I made even before I make it and I knew for sure that I'm not perfect. The King’s envoy awaited

“Welcome,” one said, voice smooth. “Ivy of Ravencroft. The King has heard of your…mercy.”

I stiffened, mercy, the word, once heavy with kindness, now carried weight like iron chains. “I did what I could,” I said, voice low

“Indeed. That is why you have been chosen. A wolf of unexpected courage, one who can represent loyalty…without the burden of tradition.”

I caught Kellan’s gaze from the corner, his expression was impossible to read. Relief? Possessiveness? Warning? All at once. I was confused q bit

The first days in the palace were a trial. wolves, nobles, and tokens from across the Kingdom — and tests of loyalty I did not understand, every whisper seemed pointed, every glance a challenge. I moved carefully, speaking little, hiding what I could.

And yet, I could not hide from Kellan’s influence. Though he did not accompany me inside the court after the initial reception, I felt him in every shadow.

It was on the third day that the real trial began. The King summoned the wards for a display of loyalty — a demonstration of skill, obedience, and subtle strength. I stood at the edge of the grand hall, my hands clenched at my sides, every heartbeat loud in the silence.

Then I saw him.

A figure in a mask, tall and deliberate, standing at the back of the hall. The posture, the way he scanned the room, the faint glint of blue beneath the cloth of his cloak — I froze. Rowan. Or someone who knew him.

The King’s envoy began to speak, outlining our duties, our pledges, our allegiance. Every word was like a chain winding tighter. Every glance from the masked figure set my nerves on fire. I wanted to move, to reach him, to warn him that his presence alone could undo me here.

But I could not.

A test was called: each ward was to step forward, recite an oath, and demonstrate a skill that proved their usefulness to the crown. The first few stepped up — graceful, confident, practiced in the art of pleasing kings and surviving under scrutiny. And when my turn came, my legs felt like stone, my voice shaking

“I…” I began, my hands shook. “I swear loyalty…to the Crown. To uphold the peace, to honor the laws…”

The words were formal, hollow. The room listened silently. The masked figure shifted, a subtle movement that told me he recognized me.

Kellan’s voice was suddenly behind me, low in my ear, and it was not the court’s command, not the King’s, but something personal. “Remember, Ivy. Every word has weight,one mistake and they do not forget, they will use it against you — and against those you care about.”

I nodded, swallowing a lump of fear and something darker: a strange exhilaration. I had stepped into a world where mercy and cunning were both currency, and failure was permanent.

When I finished, silence hung. Then the King’s envoy clapped slowly, deliberately, a sound that grated against my teeth. “Unexpected,” he said. “Resourceful, The King will be…pleased.”

The masked figure had moved; now closer. I knew, without doubt, that eyes not his own had seen him. And that eyes here — the King’s, the envoy’s, the court’s — would be watching us both.

Later, when the hall emptied, the figure approached. I caught only a flicker of blue, a sliver of familiarity. “Ivy,” a low voice hissed. “You don’t know what you’ve walked into.” The marked figure spoke firmly but low; like a whisper in the head

My chest tightened. “Who are you?”

“I am the reason you may not survive this court alive,” he said. “And yet…you will need me, if you value Rowan, listen. Every ally here is a shadow. Every friend is a knife in disguise. And Kellan…” His words faltered. “He will not save you.”

Before I could ask, he vanished into the crowd, leaving the scent of rain and iron behind.

That night, I lay in the gilded room that was supposed to be my sanctuary. I was both curious, and afraid at the same time, and nothing could mask them. I traced the blue scrap beneath my pillow, the coin from Rowan pressed into my palm like a talisman. My heart pounded with the certainty that nothing here was as it seemed.

And somewhere, beyond the walls, eyes followed, measured, and waited.

Tomorrow, I would step into the King’s private chambers. Tomorrow, the first of my true tests would begin. And I would either survive — or die

The last thought before sleep claimed me was simple, terrifying, and clear: Rowan had not abandoned me, Rowan sent the mask man to me, someone had followed. And my last thought before sleeping being that the King’s court was ready to watch us both burn-alive