CHAPTER 2
Summoned to Blackglass Palace
Rain began to fall before sunset.
Elara stood in front of the mirror in a bedroom that no longer felt like hers.
House Arden felt quieter since her father had been taken away.
There was no sound of his footsteps in the hallway.
No sound of his study door opening.
No sound of the little cough she always heard every morning when he read too long by the window.
All that remained was silence.
And a black envelope on the table.
Elara stared at it.
The royal seal was still intact.
She had tried opening it with a knife.
Failed.
With candle flame.
Failed.
Even with the little Thread energy she possessed.
Nothing happened.
The letter remained sealed.
Worse, its surface was still warm.
Elara touched the back of it.
The burning sensation from the Thorn Sigil had lessened, but it hadn't disappeared completely.
She drew a breath and unbuttoned her dress.
In the mirror, the black mark was clearly visible between her shoulder blades.
Thin thorns formed a circular pattern, like roots searching for a path beneath her skin.
That morning, the mark had felt like fire.
Now it felt like a pulse.
As if something inside it were waking up.
Elara took a dark brown wrapping cloth and carefully bound her upper body.
Then she put on a simple black dress with a covered back.
No jewelry.
No Arden crest.
Nothing that would make it easy for anyone to recognize her as the daughter of a family that had just been declared traitorous.
She picked up her traveling cloak.
A knock sounded.
Elara turned at once.
“Come in.”
The door opened.
Mira Arden stood there, her brown hair slightly disheveled and her face pale.
She was a few years younger than Elara.
Usually, Mira would come in carrying at least three questions and one unsolicited comment.
Not today.
She only stared at the envelope on the table.
“So it's true?”
Elara nodded.
“They summoned you to the palace?”
“Yes.”
Mira closed the door.
“They just killed your father.”
“I know.”
“And now they want you to come alone?”
Elara slipped a small knife into the sheath at her waist.
“Apparently.”
Mira walked closer.
“Don't go.”
Elara stopped.
“What?”
“Don't go there.”
Mira picked up the envelope, but didn't touch the seal.
“There's something wrong with this letter.”
Elara raised an eyebrow.
“Besides the fact that the king is summoning the daughter of the family he just destroyed?”
“Yes.”
Mira pointed to the bottom of the envelope.
“Look at the ink.”
Elara leaned closer.
At first, she saw nothing.
Then she realized the black ink in the writing wasn't truly black.
There were thin silver lines running through it.
Almost like veins.
“Contract ink,” Mira said softly.
Elara looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
Mira nodded.
“I found notes about it in your uncle's study. Contract ink is used for agreements that can't be revoked. If someone accepts a letter written with it and fulfills the conditions inside, the contract can become active.”
“A summons isn't a contract.”
“It shouldn't be.”
Mira looked at her seriously.
“That's the problem.”
Elara picked up a candle.
She lit it and held the corner of the envelope over the flame.
Mira immediately stepped back.
“Don't.”
Too late.
The flame touched the paper.
Nothing happened.
The paper didn't burn.
Instead, the flame went out on its own.
Elara tried again.
This time, the flame turned blue for several seconds before dying.
She stared at the envelope.
“Interesting.”
Mira sighed.
“You call that interesting?”
“If I call it terrifying, will the letter change?”
“No.”
“Then it's interesting.”
Mira rolled her eyes.
That was Elara.
Even when the world was collapsing around her, she could still find a reason to stay calm.
Elara set down the candle.
“If this contract ink activates when I obey the order, then they're not just summoning me.”
“They're binding you.”
“Not necessarily.”
“You just watched that letter reject fire.”
Elara looked at the writing on it.
“Rejecting fire doesn't mean it's binding someone.”
“Then what does it mean?”
“It means someone wants to make sure this letter arrives.”
Mira shook her head.
“The way you think makes me tired.”
“Good. That means you're still alive.”
Mira fell silent.
Then her expression turned serious.
“Then don't go.”
Elara didn't answer immediately.
She walked to the wardrobe.
Opened the bottom compartment.
Behind a pile of old clothes was a small traveling bag.
She put two knives, several coins, a map of Varelia, a water bottle, and a notebook inside.
Mira watched her.
“You're still going.”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because if I refuse, they'll come here.”
Mira immediately understood what she meant.
Elara closed the bag.
“House Arden just lost my father. They can take whatever's left.”
“And you think going to the palace will keep us safe?”
“No.”
Elara looked at her.
“I think being right in front of them is safer than hiding behind a door.”
Mira sighed.
“You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Choose the most dangerous path just because it gives you more information.”
Elara smiled faintly.
“Information keeps people alive longer.”
“Sometimes information gets people killed.”
“Then I'll try to be harder to kill.”
Mira let out a small laugh.
It lasted only a moment.
Then the silence returned.
Elara looked around the room.
She didn't know how long she'd be gone.
Maybe one night.
Maybe a week.
Maybe she'd never come back.
She picked up a key from the table.
“Take this.”
Mira frowned.
“What key is that?”
“The basement.”
“You want me to go in there?”
“No.”
Elara handed her the key.
“You need to make sure no one goes in.”
Mira closed her fingers around it.
“And if someone does?”
“Don't fight.”
“I'm not a coward.”
“I know.”
Elara looked at her.
“That's why I'm asking you not to fight.”
Mira understood.
Elara wasn't belittling her.
She was protecting her.
If something happened at the palace, Mira was the only person who could still search for answers from outside.
Elara couldn't afford to lose that.
Mira slipped the key into her pocket.
“All right.”
Then she hugged Elara.
Elara froze for several seconds.
She wasn't used to receiving hugs.
Especially not now.
But eventually, she lifted her arms and hugged Mira back.
“Take care of yourself,” Mira whispered.
Elara closed her eyes for a moment.
“You too.”
A loud knock echoed from downstairs.
They immediately broke apart.
Then a guard's voice came from outside.
“Miss Arden.”
Elara opened the door.
“What is it?”
“The royal carriage has arrived.”
Elara looked at Mira.
“That was fast.”
Mira went pale.
“They didn't even give you time.”
Elara picked up her cloak.
“That was the point.”
The royal carriage waited in front of the house.
Four black horses stood beneath the rain.
The Varelia crest was displayed on the side of the carriage.
And six mounted guards stood nearby.
Elara stopped on the steps.
She counted them.
Six.
Not two or three, like an escort for a noblewoman.
Six fully armed royal soldiers.
Among them stood a dark-haired man with a thin scar along his jaw.
He dismounted.
“Miss Arden.”
“Who are you?”
“Captain Rowan Ashford.”
Elara knew the name.
Commander of the royal guard.
Someone known for rarely saying more than necessary.
“The king sent us to escort you.”
Elara looked at the six soldiers.
“Escort me?”
“Yes.”
“To where?”
“Blackglass Palace.”
Elara stared at him impassively.
“I can go by myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
Rowan didn't answer immediately.
“The king's orders.”
Of course.
Elara looked at the carriage.
Then back at Rowan.
“Did the king also decide what I should wear?”
“No.”
“What a shame.”
One of the guards almost smiled.
Rowan glanced at him.
The smile vanished at once.
Elara almost smiled.
Almost.
She climbed into the carriage.
Mira stood at the bottom of the steps.
Elara looked at her one more time.
“Don't leave the house.”
Mira nodded.
“And, Elara?”
Elara stopped.
“Don't trust anyone.”
Elara looked at her.
“Not even the king?”
“Especially not the king.”
Elara stepped down once more.
She approached Mira and whispered,
“Don't worry.”
Mira looked at her with an expression that said she didn't believe her at all.
Elara got back into the carriage.
The door closed.
The carriage began to move.
Through the window, Elara watched House Arden grow farther and farther away.
For the first time, she felt like someone leaving a grave.
Not a home.
The journey to Blackglass Palace lasted nearly an hour.
The rain grew heavier.
Elara sat in silence, checking the summons again.
She still hadn't managed to open the seal.
But now she noticed something different.
The writing on the envelope had changed.
Only slightly.
Like the ink was moving.
Elara held it closer to the light.
A thin line had appeared beneath the royal crest.
She read it slowly.
By royal summons, Elara Arden is required to appear before the Crown.
Beneath it was a sentence that hadn't been there before.
Failure to appear will be considered refusal of royal authority.
Elara frowned.
So it was true.
This wasn't merely an invitation.
She was being forced.
“Clever.”
The carriage stopped.
Elara raised her head.
Had they arrived already?
No.
They had stopped at the outer checkpoint.
A soldier opened the door.
“Sorry, Miss. Inspection.”
Elara stepped down.
Rowan stood a few steps behind her.
He inspected the carriage, then gave permission to continue.
When Elara climbed back in, she saw something by the road.
An old marker stone.
The House Arden crest was carved into it.
But the crest had been crossed out.
Beneath it were the words:
PROPERTY OF THE CROWN.
Elara stared at it for a long time.
“Since when?”
Rowan, standing nearby, heard her.
“Since the council's decision.”
“What decision?”
“The removal of House Arden's rights.”
Elara turned to him.
“Removal?”
Rowan nodded.
“Legally, House Arden no longer owns any land, titles, or inheritance rights.”
Elara stared at him.
“When was that decision made?”
“Three days ago.”
Three days.
The same day the trial began.
Elara smiled without humor.
“So they decided we were guilty before the trial.”
Rowan didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Elara climbed back into the carriage.
Now everything was clearer.
Her father's execution hadn't been a sudden decision.
The removal of House Arden had been planned.
They didn't just want to kill one man.
They wanted to erase an entire family.
And perhaps that was why they wanted her at the palace.
Elara looked at the black letter in her hand.
“Then,” she murmured, “let's see what they really want.”
The gates of Blackglass Palace came into view as night began to fall.
The palace was much larger than it appeared from the city.
Black towers rose behind walls of dark stone.
Blue lights glowed along the gates.
Magic.
Elara felt the Thorn Sigil on her back begin to pulse again.
She drew her cloak tighter around herself.
The carriage slowed.
Two guards opened the gates.
Elara saw the palace's main courtyard.
Nobles.
Servants.
Soldiers.
Royal carriages.
Everything moved with an order that was too perfect.
Then her eyes stopped on someone.
A woman stood near the stone steps.
Her hair was silver-gold.
She wore a dark green dress.
A ring adorned one of her fingers.
Elara froze.
The ring was small.
A black stone at its center was surrounded by a pattern of thin thorns.
Elara recognized it.
She had seen that ring on her mother's hand.
Every night.
For years.
After her mother died, the ring disappeared.
Elara had searched the entire house for it.
It had never been found.
Now the ring was on the hand of someone at Blackglass Palace.
Elara stared at the woman.
The woman raised her head. Their gazes met.
Then the woman smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile.
It was the smile of someone who knew exactly who Elara was.
And perhaps had already been waiting for her to arrive.
Elara felt the Thorn Sigil on her back begin to burn again.
This time, it was far stronger. She said nothing.
But there was only one question in her mind.
How could my mother's ring be in this woman's possession?