The morning sun painted the sky in hues of gold and rose. The imperial estate buzzed with activity, but within Evelyne's chambers, stillness reigned.
Until—
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," Evelyne said, still brushing her hair.
A maid entered, her hands trembling slightly. "This… this arrived, milady. No seal. No sender."
Evelyne raised a brow.
She took the envelope.
Parchment, pale as bone. Ink, deep crimson. Like dried blood.
The letter read:
> They hate you. They always will.
But I see the fire they fear.
Let them plot. Let them whisper.
You will rise. Not as their Empress... but as mine.
—A.
Her fingers tightened around the letter.
No seal. No trace of aura. Not even the palace mages could detect the source.
But her instincts screamed.
This wasn't just a fan.
This was someone dangerous.
—
Later that day, Caleb confronted the palace guard.
"Who entered Lady Evelyne's wing last night?"
"No one, sir. Double shifts were posted."
He clenched his jaw.
Then who had delivered that letter?
—
In the rose garden, Evelyne found Zayne sketching again.
"Should I be worried?" she asked, sitting beside him.
He blinked. "You mean the letter?"
"So you heard."
Zayne looked away. "This world… It doesn't know how to handle women who are strong and alone."
She tilted her head. "And you?"
"I plan to walk beside you. Not ahead. Not behind."
Evelyne looked at him, genuinely stunned.
But her heart was heavy.
Because somewhere, someone was watching.
Loving her in a way that felt more like obsession.
And he had already broken into her world.
---