Chapter Three: Whispers and Invitations

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The letter Aria had sent to Sir Lorian Caelum burned in her mind like a lit fuse.

She had kept it vague — not a full confession, but enough to spark his curiosity. She signed it not as Aria Valeborne, but as a friend of the fallen. It was a gamble, but she couldn’t afford to wait. Every day brought her closer to the banquet. Closer to the fire.

If the story played out like the novel, she had less than six weeks left.

---

Eris summoned her two days later.

It was mid-morning, and the sun poured through the eastern window of the private receiving room like melted gold. The air was thick with the scent of ink and parchment — Eris had been writing letters, her script swift and angular.

“You’ve been busy,” Aria said, trying to sound casual.

Eris didn’t look up. “Nobility doesn’t take holidays. Especially not with the Academy’s Season approaching.”

That made Aria pause. The Academy?

“Wait. Isn’t that where the heir candidates go for selection trials?”

Eris finally looked at her, suspicion flickering behind her lashes. “Yes. You remember that now?”

Aria flushed. Her slip was too fast. “I read about it in one of Father’s books, I think. It just came back to me.”

Eris said nothing for a long moment. Then she slid a letter across the table.

“An invitation arrived this morning. From the palace.”

Aria took it carefully. The seal was unmistakable — the Crown’s crest, a phoenix wreathed in thorns. She broke it open.

To Lady Aria Valeborne,

At the pleasure of Her Majesty, you are cordially invited to the Vernal Gala at the Imperial Palace…

Her heart skipped. The banquet. It’s happening sooner than in the book. Three weeks from today.

Her fingers clenched around the letter.

“Why would they invite me?” she asked aloud.

“Because you’re a Valeborne,” Eris replied sharply. “And because they’re watching me.”

Aria looked up. “You?”

Eris’s voice dropped. “The Court watches every potential threat. Even shadows. They think I’m playing some dangerous game with the Council. They want to see if I’ll crack.”

In the novel, Eris did crack — under the weight of court pressure, heartbreak, betrayal. But now that Aria was here… maybe things could be different.

“You’ll attend?” Aria asked softly.

“I must. And so must you.”

Aria swallowed. “That’s where the fire happens, isn’t it?”

Eris flinched. It was so small most would have missed it, but Aria saw it — the faint tightening of her jaw, the way her eyes turned glassy for just a heartbeat.

“Yes,” Eris said. “That’s where I lost you.”

Aria hesitated. “Do you think it was really an accident?”

Eris’s gaze sharpened. “I used to. I don’t anymore.”

Their eyes met — and in that shared silence, a fragile thread began to stretch between them. Not quite trust, but something close.

“I want to help,” Aria said quietly.

Eris blinked. “You’ve never said that before.”

“Well, I’m not who I was before.”

“Clearly.”

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Maren brought her books on court etiquette and historical feuds, and Aria read them with new eyes — looking for patterns, secrets, hidden enemies. Kieran snuck in sweets from the kitchen. Even the estate felt subtly different now, like the air itself was waiting for something to ignite.

That night, Aria had another visitor.

She had just blown out her bedside candle when the knock came. Three soft taps. She sat up, heart thudding.

“Maren?” she whispered.

The door opened slightly, and to her surprise, Eris stepped in.

She wasn’t wearing her usual gowns, just a black night robe and her hair unbound over her shoulders. In the moonlight, she looked younger. Sadder.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Eris said. “But I wanted to ask you something. And I didn’t want prying ears.”

Aria nodded, pulling the blanket around her. “What is it?”

Eris closed the door and leaned against the edge of the bedframe.

“When you woke up,” she said, “you looked at me like you’d never seen me before. You flinched when I touched your hand.”

Aria bit her lip.

“I thought I lost my sister,” Eris continued. “But when you opened your eyes… I wasn’t sure I got her back. So tell me — what changed?”

Aria stared at her sister’s face. So composed. So guarded. And yet so hollow.

If she told the truth, she would sound mad. But if she lied — Eris might never trust her.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Aria whispered. “But I remember things differently now. I see everything like it’s a story I’m not supposed to be in. Like someone gave me a second chance I don’t deserve.”

She didn’t say the word “reincarnation.” She didn’t need to. Eris’s eyes searched hers.

Finally, Eris said, “You’re not the only one who feels like a shadow in their own skin.”

Then she rose, and slipped out before Aria could answer.

---

The next morning brought more than sunlight. It brought a reply.

Maren handed her the envelope with a strange look. “It was slipped under the gates at dawn.”

Aria opened it with trembling hands.

To the friend of the fallen:

If you seek the truth, meet me at the Archives of Thorns. Midnight, three nights hence. Come alone.

— L. Caelum

Aria pressed the letter to her chest. He answered. He’s alive. And he’s willing to talk.

She wasn’t alone.

---

That night, the dream came.

She stood in the burning banquet hall. Flames licked the velvet curtains, the chandeliers melted like wax. Screams echoed off marble walls. Smoke filled her lungs.

And at the center of it all stood a figure in red.

Cloaked. Masked. Their eyes glowed like embers.

“You weren’t supposed to live,” the figure hissed.

Aria tried to run, but her limbs wouldn’t move.

“You’ve already taken her place. Will you take her death as well?”

Then fire consumed her.

---

She woke gasping.

The window was open. Wind stirred her curtains.

And on the sill lay a single black rose.

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End of Chapter Three