For several seconds after the stranger vanished—
No one moved.
Rain lashed violently through the shattered palace windows while the dead creature lay twisted across the marble floor, black blood pooling beneath it like spilled ink.
The palace guards stood frozen in horror.
One of them crossed himself shakily.
Another whispered prayers under his breath.
Because everyone in Lorian knew the ancient stories.
Creatures with golden eyes.
Men transformed into monsters.
The cursed bloodline.
Legends mothers used to frighten children.
Legends that were never supposed to be real.
Seraphina stepped toward the corpse.
"Your Majesty—" Master Thorne warned sharply.
"I need to see it."
The creature's body was already changing.
Its monstrous limbs twitched violently as the gray skin slowly cracked apart.
And beneath it—
Human flesh emerged.
The guards recoiled instantly.
One nearly vomited.
Because the monster was becoming recognizable.
Seraphina's stomach tightened.
It was Captain Roland.
Commander of the eastern palace gate.
A loyal soldier who had served her father for nearly twenty years.
Now dead at her feet.
His golden eyes faded slowly back to normal as blood leaked from the arrow wound in his skull.
Master Thorne crouched beside the body carefully.
Then his expression darkened.
"He was branded."
Seraphina looked closer.
Hidden beneath Roland's torn uniform—
A strange symbol had been carved directly into his chest.
A black circle surrounded by three crooked lines.
The mark looked burned rather than cut.
And the moment Seraphina saw it—
Pain exploded inside her head.
A violent flash.
A memory.
Dark corridors.
Her father shouting.
Blood on stone floors.
And a voice whispering:
"Never let them mark you."
Seraphina staggered backward suddenly.
Thorne caught her arm instantly. "Your Majesty!"
The vision vanished.
But her heartbeat remained wild.
"What happened?" he asked.
She stared at the symbol on Roland's chest.
"I've seen that mark before."
The corridor fell silent.
Thorne's eyes narrowed carefully. "Where?"
"I don't know."
Which frightened her more than any answer could have.
Because the memory did not feel imagined.
It felt buried.
Locked away.
As though someone had deliberately hidden it from her mind.
A guard rushed into the corridor breathlessly.
"Your Majesty, we found this near the eastern tower."
He handed Thorne a folded piece of black parchment sealed with crimson wax.
No insignia.
No signature.
Only one sentence written inside.
THE SECOND HEIR LIVES.
The temperature in the corridor seemed to drop instantly.
Thorne read the message twice.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Then looked at Seraphina.
And for the first time since she had known him—
The royal strategist looked afraid.
"What does it mean?" she asked quietly.
Thorne hesitated.
Too long.
"Master Thorne."
His jaw tightened.
"Years ago," he said slowly, "before your mother died… she gave birth to twins."
Seraphina's entire body went still.
"No."
"The second child was declared dead immediately after birth."
"That's impossible."
"Only five people knew the truth."
Her breathing became shallow.
"You're lying."
But even as she said it—
She realized he wasn't.
Because suddenly forgotten pieces of childhood returned like shattered glass.
A lullaby sung twice.
Tiny footsteps beside her nursery room at night.
A second cradle that vanished one winter morning.
Her father's grief afterward.
Dear heavens.
She wasn't imagining it.
"I had a sibling…" she whispered.
Thorne nodded grimly.
"The king believed someone wanted the second heir dead."
"Who?"
"We never discovered the full truth."
Seraphina stared at the message again.
THE SECOND HEIR LIVES.
Her hands trembled slightly for the first time in years.
If this was true—
Then someone else possessed a claim to the throne.
Someone hidden.
Someone erased from history.
And suddenly Eveline's words became far more terrifying.
The king was protecting you.
Not from foreign kingdoms.
Not from rebellion.
From her own bloodline.
Then—
The palace lights went out.
Every torch in the corridor died at once.
Darkness swallowed everything.
The guards panicked immediately.
"What happened?!"
"Protect the queen!"
Only the storm outside provided flashes of light now.
And within that darkness—
A child began singing.
Softly.
Somewhere deep inside the palace.
Seraphina froze.
No.
Not just any song.
The lullaby from her childhood.
The one she had not heard in years.
The same lullaby sung beside the missing cradle.
The singing drifted closer through the darkness.
Slow.
Gentle.
Wrong.
One guard whispered shakily, "Who's there?"
No answer came.
Only the singing.
Then lightning flashed across the corridor.
For one brief second—
A small figure stood at the far end of the hallway.
A little girl in an old-fashioned white royal dress.
Her long black hair covered most of her face.
But Seraphina saw enough.
The child's eyes glowed gold.
Then the darkness returned.
And the singing stopped completely.
A terrified scream echoed from somewhere behind them.
Another guard disappeared into the shadows.
Blood splattered across the wall.
Chaos erupted instantly.
"Move!" Thorne shouted.
But Seraphina couldn't breathe.
Because deep inside her mind—
A memory finally unlocked.
A little girl smiling beside her.
Identical eyes.
Identical face.
And her father's voice saying:
"If anyone ever discovers your sister is alive… run."