Chapter 1- The Summons
The letter smelled of crushed violets and smoke.
Myrren Vale held it by the edges, careful not to smudge the ink. The wax seal gleamed faintly with the crest of Eirden: a crown above a nine‑pointed spiral. The palace never summoned people like her. Not scentcrafters. Not lowborn artisans who lived in back‑alley shops with shelves sagging under jars and dried leaves. And certainly not Myrren Vale, who had spent her life trying not to be noticed.
She broke the seal.
By order of His Majesty, King Alric IV, the Crown summons Mistress Myrren Vale to the Royal Court of Eirden. Her skills in scentcraft are required in urgent matters of state. She is to arrive before the next moonrise.
Cold. Final.
The parchment still carried a tang beneath the violets and smoke. Metallic. Blood. Whoever had sealed it had touched the wax with stained hands.
A knock rattled her door.
“Already packed?” Ori’s bright voice spilled in as she bustled through, smelling of soap, starch, and warm bread.
Wordlessly, Myrren held up the letter.
Ori gasped. “The seal! You’re being called to court?” She set down her basket with a thump. “Wait until the neighbors—”
“No one will hear,” Myrren cut in. Sharper than she meant. “Not yet.”
Ori blinked, then grinned. “Secrets again. Fine. But you cannot go looking like that.” She gestured at Myrren’s grey dress, the ink stains at her cuffs, the herb dust in her braid.
“I’m not going to be seen,” Myrren muttered. “I’m going to work.”
“Palace work is still palace work.” Ori’s grin widened. “Who knows? You might catch the eye of a prince. Or worse—the Queen.”
Myrren stilled. Everyone knew Queen Aelira’s name was sharper than her crown. If the King was truly still ill—as rumor whispered—then it was the Queen who held the reins of the Council of Nine. And if the Queen wanted her in court… Myrren already knew she was in danger.
By nightfall she was in a carriage jolting up the palace road. The satchel at her side clinked with clay jars. Ori had bullied her into a clean dress of dark wool, her hair combed smooth.
Eirden sprawled below, rooftops glinting in dusk. Above it all rose the palace—vast, white, humming faintly with wards.
She inhaled. Cold marble. Torch smoke. Perfume masking sweat. And beneath it, older—something thrumming through stone.
Magic.
The gates yawned open. Servants led her through glittering halls where illusions shimmered over cracked walls. Courtiers swept past in gowns like constellations, laughter sharp as glass. None spared her a glance.
Until the throne hall.
The air was thick with perfume—sweet, cloying. Too sweet. Myrren’s nostrils flared. Bitter almond.
Her gaze slid to a goblet on a side table. A faint blue sheen clung to the rim—visible only to one who knew where to look. She touched it with a fingertip, raised it to her nose.
“Wolfsbane,” she murmured.
Gasps. Laughter. A noble scoffed. “A parlor trick.” Another sneered. “Ridiculous—”
She ignored them. “Aconitine binds sodium channels in the nerves. Tingling lips, collapsing lungs, a seizing heart. The victim would be dead already—unless…” She tilted the goblet. “The dose was small. Enough to weaken, not kill. Whoever poured it wanted the victim watched, not buried.”
The laughter faltered.
“Careful.” A warm voice carried from the dais. “Dismissing someone who notices more than you could cost your life.”
Prince Thane stood at the hall’s center—golden‑haired, smile shaped like sunlight itself. His gaze on her was curious, not mocking. His words sounded generous, but in them lay the weight of a lesson: her presence was no accident.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She had expected arrogance. Not… defense.
Then she saw him. At Thane’s right.
Lord Corven. Raven‑dark hair. Storm‑colored eyes. Stillness carved deep into his stance. He did not smile. He did not bow. He simply watched.
And as she passed, his voice brushed low against her ear.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
Her breath caught.
For the first time, she could not read a scent. Only danger. Only silence.
Her gaze dropped back to the goblet in her hand—and froze. The seal at its base was no noble’s crest.
It was the King’s.
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Chapters
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- Free Chapter 1- The Summons August 17, 2025
- Free Chapter 2- The Golden Prince August 19, 2025
- Free Chapter 3- The Ward in Shadows 2 days ago
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LettyT.
“I’m hooked 😱 Every scene feels like I’m inside the palace myself—mystery, danger, and romance all woven together so perfectly. The cliffhanger at the end?? Absolutely chilling. MORE PLEASE