The phantom warmth of Cassius’s hand lingered on mine. I finally let my fingers slip from his, the air in the quiet room suddenly feeling cooler.

“See?” Cassius’s voice was a low murmur, pulling my gaze back to his. The intensity in his eyes held me fast. “You’re a natural. It just takes practice.”

A smile, genuine and unbidden, touched my lips. “Thank you.” My gaze swept the silent, waiting room. “Amelia isn’t back. Should we tidy up?”

“Good idea,” he said, though his eyes lingered on me a moment longer. He moved toward the door, his presence filling the space and then just as quickly receding. He paused in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the light. “See you soon, Thalia.” A final, deliberate nod, and he was gone. The soft click of the latch echoed in the profound stillness he left behind.

Alone, I padded into the adjoining bathroom. Steam billowed in soft clouds, ghosting up from a tub already filled to the brim. A familiar wave of gratitude washed over me; Amelia’s quiet foresight was a constant anchor in my tumultuous life. I dipped a hand in, the water a perfect, searing heat. After shedding the grime and grit of my travel-worn clothes, I sank into the blissful embrace of the water. The filth of the road, the exhaustion that had settled deep in my bones—it all began to melt away, turning the clear water cloudy. Leaning my head back against the cool, unforgiving porcelain, I closed my eyes, letting the silence seep into me. This was what I needed.

My mind, however, refused to rest. It replayed the dizzying cascade of recent events, the weight of my new reality pressing in. It wasn’t long before my thoughts snagged on the three coin holders. They need to start moving as one, I thought, a familiar coil of worry tightening in my gut. That anxiety soured into a cold dread as my mind drifted, un-steered, to the birthday celebration tonight. A hollow feeling opened in my stomach.

With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, I rose from the water. I dried myself with a thick, plush towel before wrapping a silk robe securely around my waist. When I opened the door, a soft lamplight painted my room in hues of gold and shadow. Amelia was already there, settled in her usual chair.

“Good afternoon, Thalia,” she said, her voice a gentle comfort.

“Amelia.” I crossed to my desk, perching on its edge beside her. I lifted the heavy, leather-bound tome on Pillard Forest and laid it open in front of her to a dog-eared page.

“I’ve been thinking,” I began, my finger tapping the aged parchment. “We send the group to Pillard Forest. Noctis should lead a team. Finnian, Lyra, and Adrix.”

A knowing smile touched Amelia’s lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “An excellent, and strategic, choice.”

“The challenge will be Lyra,” I conceded. “For now, we give Noctis space. See if he can unite them on his own.”

“And if he cannot?” Amelia asked, her gaze unwavering.

“Then I suppose they’ll need a push,” I mused, a new thread of strategy weaving itself in my mind. “I’ll think on that.”

“Very well. What, precisely, are they looking for?”

My finger traced the final, elegant script of a paragraph. “The book speaks of ruins. Ancient script rumored to hold a powerful secret. It’s the perfect place to start—and a mystery compelling enough to guarantee Finnian’s cooperation.”

“A solid plan,” Amelia agreed. “I’ll see to the arrangements.”

I slid off the desk and drifted towards my vanity, the smooth silk of the robe whispering against my skin. I picked up my silver-backed brush.

“So,” Amelia’s voice came from behind me, gentle but probing. “How was everything, truly?” Her eyes in the mirror were searching, looking past the simple answer she knew I would want to give.

“It was… successful,” I said, my voice softer than I intended. “Aside from one incident.” I let the robe fall from my shoulder, revealing the puckered, angry scar that marred the skin beneath. “We’ll need to cover this before the party.”

Amelia’s soft intake of breath was sharp in the quiet room. “Thalia! What happened?”

“The teleport was imprecise. It dropped us into ruins swarming with… creatures.” I explained, the memory making my skin crawl. “A Silent Scourge. Cassius and I dealt with it.”

She rose and came to stand behind me, her fingers gently probing the edges of the almost healed wound. “This has healed remarkably well,” she murmured, her clinical tone betrayed by the worry in her eyes. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

A faint smile touched my lips in the reflection. The topic stirred another memory, one that sat far heavier in my heart. “On that note,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I found my mother’s journal.”

Amelia’s attention snapped into sharp focus. “And you could read it?”

“Yes. It wasn’t written in the ancient Elven tongue, strangely. It seems she had a confidant… a seer.” I met her gaze in the mirror. “Like you.”

A heavy silence descended, thick with unspoken questions. Finally, Amelia asked, her voice tight, “What happened to her friend?”

I hesitated, the words lodged in my throat. “She went against fate.”

Amelia’s face went slack, her expression a slow-dawning horror. “Her end,” she breathed, “it must have been unspeakable.”

I could only nod, the truth of it a cold stone in my stomach. “I think,” I said, my voice trembling slightly, “I finally understand why you are so guarded with your visions.”

She turned away, her gaze lost somewhere in the shadows of the room. The ensuing silence was my cue. I pushed to my feet, forcing a theatrical eye-roll. “Well, we can’t put it off any longer. Let’s find something to wear to this ridiculous farce of a birthday party.”

A small, sad smile touched Amelia’s lips. “No. I suppose we can’t.”

She helped me select a simple, elegant gown of dusky lilac. The long, flowing sleeves would hide the scar perfectly. As I slipped it on, the fabric cinched at my waist before cascading to the floor. I sat at the vanity, a willing doll, as Amelia’s expert hands began to pin and twist my hair.

“So,” she began, her fingers deft and sure, “your training with Cassius?”

“It was fine. He’s a patient teacher.”

“Is that all?” The question was light, but her eyes in the mirror were sharp.

“What else would there be?” I deflected, my heart giving a small, traitorous flutter.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, then shook her head, letting it go. “How does it feel? Wielding a sword and your mana?”

“The blade helps more than I imagined,” I admitted. “It’s a physical anchor. It helps me focus the flow of my mana, though I have yet to apply it.” As she tucked a final, stray strand of hair into place, I added, “But I have a long way to go. With both.”

“I’m glad,” she said, retrieving my jewelry box. “Every new skill is a weapon in your arsenal.” She set the polished box before me. “Choose.”

My fingers ghosted over a familiar piece, drawn by memory and instinct. My mother’s necklace. A delicate silver chain lined with shimmering opal gems. I handed it to Amelia, and she fastened the cool metal around my neck. It settled against my collarbone, a piece of the past resting against my skin. I stared at the girl in the mirror, adorned in secrets and sorrow.

“You look beautiful, Thalia,” Amelia said softly.

I turned on the stool to face her, the compliment settling for a moment before I let my expression grow serious. “One more thing. Is there anything else I need to know?”

Amelia’s own face turned grave. “Your father and Blair. Their secret meetings have become more frequent. I cannot discern their purpose, only that they are plotting.”

A contemplative silence filled the room. “We need more allies,” I thought aloud, my gaze unfocused. “And we need to find the elves. They are a greater asset than anyone within these treacherous castle walls.”

“I agree,” she replied. “Does this mean a return to Aelindoria?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, my resolve hardening into steel. “I’ll search the royal library, the king’s private chambers—anywhere that they might have left a sign. They would not have abandoned their home without leaving a message for him. I am certain of it.”

“A wise course,” Amelia said, but then she shifted, a flicker of profound discomfort crossing her features. “On that note… I do have some unfortunate news.”

My stomach clenched. “What is it?”

“The King has decreed that you will be the one to give the toast in Dolion’s honor tonight.”

The words struck me like a physical blow. The air rushed from my lungs, and the room seemed to tilt. Why me? What is this game? A hundred questions screamed through my mind, but one cold, terrifying certainty settled over me.

Tonight was not a celebration. It was a trap. And I was walking right into it.