Thea's perspective:
In the quiet, mist-veiled town of Duskmere, where ancient stone houses sat like sleeping giants, one such house hid more than just old memories. In its overgrown garden, beneath the looming shadow of time, a girl paced in frustration. Her name was Thea, and she had just turned fifteen last month.
Her hands were clasped behind her back, a habit she'd picked up when she was deep in thought—or angry. And right now, she was furious.
"Why did Mother throw me out of the house like that?"
It wasn't like she was a child anymore. In just one year, she would turn sixteen—the legal age to make her own choices. And the first thing she planned to do? Leave. She wanted to see the world, break free from these walls that had caged her all her life. There were always guards watching the grounds. Her mother never let her step beyond the estate. She wasn't stupid—she knew they were protecting her from something, or someone.
As her frustration simmered, a thought sparked in her mind. She turned abruptly toward the house and made her way toward the living room—the largest room in the mansion. That was where her mother, Meghan, always held her secretive meetings.
She hoped the meeting was over. But as she tiptoed closer, the muffled voices leaking from behind the heavy oak doors told her otherwise.
Disappointed, she turned to leave—but paused.
One of the windows was ajar. She remembered opening it earlier to let in some air. Perhaps… perhaps she could listen in?
Lowering herself into a crouch, she slid across the wall and pressed her ear to the slim gap. Her heart pounded. She shouldn't be doing this. But the thrill of discovery beat stronger.
And then—voices.
Clearer than ever before.
"Yorrray!" she silently cheered, triumphant.
She immediately recognized her mother's voice—stern, commanding, and burdened.
"I know... not much time is left. But there's no other way. She'll soon be of legal age. And they'll come for her," Meghan said, her voice cold and final.
Another, deeper voice spoke—a man.
"But, my liege, we've tried everything. We bargained with the Morgans—nothing. We pushed the Silvers—they refused. We sought an alliance with the Vermonts - they wouldn't budge, and you wouldn't allow us to approach the Thornehearts. They're the only ones with enough power to help us. We have to try."
The moment the name Thornehearts was spoken, Meghan's voice erupted, sharp and venomous.
"Never. Not the Thornehearts. I will never ally with them. You want me to send my daughter to them? That is his family. He rules there. I would die before I send her that way. Besides, he abandoned his own kin. No one has seen him in fifteen years. For all we know, he could be dead."
The man—Edgar, her mother's most loyal retainer—spoke calmly, but with urgency.
"I understand your pain, my liege. But we are out of time. We tried everyone who might help. This isn't just about you. It's about her. Thea carries the blood of rulers. She's destined for the throne—but she's not the only one. There are other contenders. And only one will survive the trials to sit on that seat and join the Council. They will eliminate all competition. And you know she cannot make it through without a powerful ally. We've made no progress. We're out of time."
"You think I don't know that?" Meghan snapped, her voice trembling. "But to send her to him… after what he did?"
Edgar's voice softened. "Yes, I know what he did. But he's the only one with the strength—and cunning—to protect her now. We are too late for other options. You've done everything you could. But if you truly want her to survive, he may be our only hope."
Meghan was silent. Thea could feel the tension even from outside. Her mother had always been strong—but this was a different kind of battle.
Edgar pressed on.
"You know where he is. I followed the path of that letter. I know you received it. I checked. I had to."
Meghan's voice exploded. "You what? You had no right to open my personal letters!"
"And I'd do it again," Edgar said, unflinching. "I regret nothing. You are not a fighter, my liege. This was never supposed to be your war to fight alone."
There was a long pause. Then Meghan's voice, quiet and tired.
"Fine. I will write to him. But don't hope for anything. Whether he helps or not… I can't say."
"That's all I ask," Edgar replied.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the hall.
Startled, Thea sprang up and ran as silently as she could, heart thudding in her ears. That conversation… it had shaken her. Her mother had always been passionate, fearless—but this was different. Meghan had sounded afraid.
Just then, a maid approached.
"Your Highness, your mother is calling you to the living room."
Thea nodded and walked toward the door. Edgar wasn't there—he must've left already. Inside, only her mother sat, hands folded, eyes tired but alert.
She sat down quietly. "Yes, Mother. You called for me?"
Meghan narrowed her eyes. "Why are you being so polite? What did you do?"
Thea kept a straight face. "Nothing."
Thankfully, Meghan seemed too drained to press further. She leaned back and sighed.
"Thea, you know you have royal blood in your veins. But for us, it is not a blessing—it's a curse. If your father were here, things would be different. You could have been the strongest contender. But fate... had other plans. We have no powerful allies. But I'm doing what I can. You don't need to worry."
Thea nodded. "I know, Mother. And I'm not weak. I've already reached Orange Core. I train every day."
A flicker of pride crossed Meghan's face.
"I know. You've done well to reach that stage. But the others… they're powerful. They have wealth, influence, armies. You have only yourself. The path ahead will be hard. But don't lose hope. Things aren't as hopeless as they seem. Now go. Get some rest."
Thea hesitated. There was a question burning inside her. About her father. About the man in the letters. But as she looked at her mother's pale face, she chose silence. Meghan, ever radiant, looked drained and distant, like the flame of a candle nearing its end.
She stood and returned to her room.
She had never seen her father—only a single portrait and one gift: a pendant. Something was inscribed on it, but she had never been able to understand the symbol.
Exhaustion overtook her the moment she collapsed onto the bed.
Later, Meghan quietly entered the room. She sat beside Thea, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. She kissed her forehead and whispered:
"You don't have to worry. As long as I live… you will never fall."
She stood after a moment and walked away with renewed purpose. The battle ahead would be brutal. But tonight… there was still peace.
And for now, that would have to be enough.