I stared down at the dagger lying on the floor.
"Cassandra…" I murmured. My voice cracked just slightly. "You better not be dead." The words hung in the air, swallowed by silence.
I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms.
I sat there motionless. My hands were trembling, just barely enough that I could feel the pulse in my fingertips. The room felt too quiet, too still, like even the air was holding its breath. My thoughts circled the same words again and again, gnawing at me from the inside.
Never again.
Never again would I let something be taken from me. Never again would I sit and watch the world strip away everything I cared for. Not fate, not the gods, not anyone.
That was my promise.
But now… now, as I sat there small, weak, barely even strong enough to hold a weapon the promise felt like a cruel joke. "…How?" I whispered. The sound of my own voice startled me in the silence. "How do I keep that promise?"
My eyes drifted toward the dagger lying on the floor.
Cassandra's dagger.
The pale moonlight spilled across the blade, catching the faint smear of dried blood. It stained the jade hilt like a wound that would never heal.
A tightness coiled in my chest. I didn't want to think about what she might be going through right now about what could've happened to her in that forest. My mind tried to stop me, but my heart already knew the possibilities.
"How…" I muttered again, my voice breaking. "How do I stop this?"
That's when I saw it.
The jade that soft sea-green I'd seen many times before flickered strangely under the moonlight. The reflection wasn't normal.
I frowned and reached for it. The moment my fingers brushed the hilt, I froze. Cold.
I stared into the jade, my reflection barely visible small, fragile, but with eyes that no longer looked afraid.
A faint grin tugged at my lips.
"So…" I whispered, the sound almost lost to the dark. "That's the game, huh?"
The dagger's cold weight lingered in my hand, heavier than it should've been. The jade shimmered faintly under the pale light, that strange pulse again subtle, almost imperceptible, but there.
Something was off.
I turned it slowly, watching how the moonlight bent against its surface. The reflection wavered like ripples in water.
My brow furrowed. "You're not just a weapon, are you?" I muttered under my breath.
The air felt thicker somehow.
Setting the dagger aside, I stood and crossed the room. My small hands pulled open the drawer of the writing desk the wood creaked softly —and I reached inside for the folded parchment hidden beneath a few stray quills.
A map.
I spread it out carefully on the floor, pressing the corners flat. It was old, worn around the edges, and inked with careful precision — a full chart of the Ardent territories and beyond.
My finger traced along the center until it found the mark Rose Hill, the seat of House Ardent.
Even now, it looked impossible on paper. The manor was built atop a steep mountain ridge, shielded by jagged cliffs that sliced the clouds themselves. A fortress carved into stone, surrounded by natural walls that no army could breach without losing half its men.
An impregnable nest for an arrogant family of nobles blessed by the gods.
I stared at it in silence. The paths leading away from Rose Hill stretched like veins across the parchment winding roads, forests, valleys. My gaze followed the one labeled Abelot Forest, far to the west.
So far.
My eyes followed the road leading down from Rose Hill.
Only one way in. Only one way out.
Even without looking out the window, I could picture it the narrow mountain path that twisted like a snake down the cliffside. The gate at the bottom, flanked by armored knights and their spears gleaming in the torchlight.
And the horse stead near the entrance rows of fine-bred stallions, restless and snorting in the night air. My only chance at crossing the distance to Abelot.
But even that was laughable.
A two-year-old sneaking out of the manor on horseback? They'd think I'd gone mad. The guards would stop me before I could even step into the stable.
I let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Right… I'd be lucky if they didn't throw me in my room for a week."
No escaping that way was impossible. The Ardent household didn't make mistakes when it came to control. Every door, every corridor, every inch of this place was under their watchful eyes.
If I had divine energy… things would've been different.
I could've asked for help. Earned someone's support. Maybe even favor.
But that's just wishful thinking. I don't have any of that.
All I have left is a mother who's locked away… and Cassandra, who's missing.
And then there's her.
Gail.
That freckled maid. The way she stammered, the way her hands shook not from fear of me, but something else. Guilt, maybe? My gut twists just thinking about it.
"She's suspicious," I muttered to myself. "Too suspicious."
I turned toward my cabinet and exhaled slowly. My hand reached for the small drawer Cassandra had once told me never to open unless absolutely necessary.
Inside, wrapped in a soft cloth, was a small crystal object set into a circular metal disc. The signal stone. Cassandra's last precaution.
"Use it only if it's an emergency," she'd said.
I stared at it for a long moment before pressing my thumb against the center.
A faint pulse of warmth responded a flicker of blue light spreading across the disc's surface like ripples in still water.
It glowed weakly, uncertain.
"Will it even work?" I whispered.
The light faded back to a dim shimmer, as if mocking my doubt.
"Guess I'll find out soon enough," I said quietly, wrapping the stone and Cassandra's dagger together in cloth before slipping them into a small pouch.
After that, I reached for the black robe I'd hidden under my bed something I'd stitched together myself out of scraps Cassandra left behind.
When the manor finally fell silent and the moon hung high, I slipped out.
My bare feet made no sound on the marble floors. The halls were dim, lined with cold torches and the quiet hum of night.
Knights patrolled lazily here and there, but none of them paid me any attention.
As usual… they didn't even see me. I don't know if I should feel relieved or insulted by that. As I walked down the long, dimly lit corridors, my thoughts refused to stay quiet.
Cassandra had gone out to tend to her sick brother that much made sense. But then, just a few days later, she "ran into bandits" and disappeared?
I frowned.
No. Something about that was… wrong.
This was Ardent territory. Our land. The most fortified region in the entire western empire. Patrol routes stretched across every mile; knights scouted the borders daily. Even the foolish avoided straying near Rose Hill.
So what kind of idiot bandits would dare to operate in a lion's den?
The answer was obvious.
They wouldn't.
That meant one of two things either Cassandra's attackers weren't bandits… or someone wanted them to look like bandits.
I felt my small fists tighten inside the sleeves of my robe. The air in the hallway felt heavier now, colder, almost mocking.
I thought of Gail again her pale face, her trembling hands, that strange guilt buried behind her eyes.
There was more going on here than I first realized.
As I slipped past another set of guards who, like always, didn't even glance my way a grim thought anchored itself in my mind.
Cassandra's disappearance wasn't bad luck.
It was planned. And whoever was behind it… They'd made a mistake thinking I was too small to notice.