Chapter 4: The Dream Where My Mother Speaks

The palace granted her a room.

Not a cell. Not a guest chamber.

But a **cage with silk curtains**.

After the incident in the East Wing, Prince Lucien had stopped her arrest — but she was now under **constant watch**. Two royal guards stood outside her door. Her meals were inspected. Her steps were tracked.

Yet no one touched her.

Because the prince had spoken.

And for the first time, **fear had a rival**: *curiosity*.

---

🌙

That night, Seo-ah dreamed.

Not of fire.

Not of death.

But of **a garden bathed in moonlight**, where roses bloomed black and red.

A woman stood beneath a crumbling archway — tall, regal, her silver crown half-buried in ivy.

Her eyes — the same **crimson** as Seo-ah’s.

*“Mother…?”* Seo-ah whispered.

The woman smiled, tears in her eyes.

*“You’ve come back, my firstborn. My true heir.”*

*“Why was I taken?”*

*“Why was I forgotten?”*

The Empress reached out — but her hand passed through Seo-ah like smoke.

*“Because they feared the truth more than destruction.”*

She pointed to a stone pedestal behind her.

On it — a **crown**.

Not gold. Not jewels.

But **forged from living flame**, frozen in metal, its prongs shaped like rising fire.

*“The Flame Crown,”* the Empress whispered. *“It remembers the blood of the rightful ruler. Find it. Wear it. And the empire will **remember you too**.”*

*“Where is it?”* Seo-ah begged.

But the dream cracked.

The garden turned to ash.

And the Empress screamed one last word:

> *“Beneath the Hall of Oaths!”*

---

❄️

Lucien stood in the Royal Archives, torch in hand.

Dust coated the shelves. Scrolls were sealed with wax stamped with the royal crest. Most hadn’t been opened in decades.

But one drawer was **locked with ice magic** — his own.

He had placed the seal himself years ago, on orders from the Oracle:

*“Do not seek the Night of Twin Births. Some truths are poison.”*

But now, he pressed his palm to the lock.

His magic hesitated.

Then — broke.

Inside: a single scroll, wrapped in black silk, marked with a **crimson handprint** — the same shape as the sigil.

He unrolled it.

And read:

> *“On the Eclipse of Flames, Year 1072, Empress Elindra gave birth to **two heirs**:

> — Seraphina Valmora, firstborn, bearing the Crimson Sigil.

> — Lucien Valmora, second-born, bearing the Frost Mark.

> By decree of the High Oracle and the King’s Council, the elder heir was declared stillborn.

> The younger twin, Lucien, shall be recognized as Sole Heir to the Valmoran Empire.

> This record is sealed. To speak of the twin is treason.”*

Lucien staggered back.

His breath fogged in the cold air.

*“Seraphina…”* he whispered. *“My sister.”*

His hands trembled.

Not from shock.

From **recognition**.

All his life, he’d felt it — a hollow space in his chest, like a piece of his soul was missing.

And now… he knew why.

He wasn’t the **whole** heir.

He was **half**.

---

🔥

Back in her room, Seo-ah stared at her reflection.

The sigil on her wrist pulsed softly — **three times**, like a heartbeat calling.

She remembered the dream.

*“Beneath the Hall of Oaths…”*

She turned to the mirror.

And whispered, *“Kael. I need you.”*

As if summoned, a shadow slipped through the window.

Kael crouched on the sill, cloak dusted with night dew.

*“You dreamed of the Flame Crown.”*

She nodded.

*“It’s real, isn’t it?”*

*“Yes,”* he said grimly. *“And it’s dangerous. The Flame Crown doesn’t just prove your bloodline — it **awakens the memories of the empire itself**. If you wear it… everyone will see the truth. Even Lucien.”*

*“Then we have to get it.”*

Kael hesitated.

*“The Hall of Oaths is guarded by ancient magic. Only royal blood can open it. And if you’re caught…”*

*“I’ll be executed,”* she finished. *“But if I don’t try… I’ll never be seen.”*

He studied her — not as a princess.

But as the girl who died in the rain… and came back to change fate.

*“Then we go tonight.”*

---

🕯️

Midnight.

The Hall of Oaths loomed — a circular chamber where royal promises were sworn, and lies were punished.

The doors were sealed with **twin locks**: one shaped like a **flame**, one like a **frost spiral**.

Kael stepped back.

*“Only the True Heir can open the flame lock.”*

Seo-ah pressed her sigil-marked wrist against the scorched metal.

It **burned**.

But she didn’t pull away.

She thought of her mother’s voice.

Of the child she saved.

Of the life she never asked for — but now **claimed**.

A pulse of **crimson light** surged.

The flame lock **ignited**.

And with a deep groan, the door cracked open.

Inside — darkness.

And at the center of the hall, descending into the earth: a **spiral staircase**, carved from black stone.

Kael lit a torch.

*“This is it,”* he said. *“The Oracle buried the Flame Crown deep. But the empire remembers. And so will you.”*

Seo-ah took the first step.

And far above, in his chambers, Lucien woke with a gasp — his chest burning, his dreams filled with **fire and a sister’s voice**.

---

🔚 End of Chapter 4

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