The Letter in Crimson Wax

Gareth handed it to her without a word, his brow furrowed. "It came by hawk. Direct. No name on the front. Just… 'To the Lady of the Forgotten Flame.'"

Milena stared at it, heart thudding. No one was supposed to know that title. Only the most loyal of Eldryn's remnants had called her that. Only those who remembered.

She broke the seal.

Inside was parchment, perfumed faintly with lavender and power. The handwriting was precise, almost too elegant.

---

To the Lady of the Forgotten Flame,

You are cordially invited to attend the Midwinter Masquerade Ball held in the Imperial Palace of Vienna, hosted by His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Velmire.

Your presence is both noted and requested, as a noble of interest newly recognized by the court.

Come. Let old houses rise again.

– V.

---

Milena read the message three times before speaking.

"They know who I am," she said flatly. "Not just someone in exile — they called me a noble. A noble of interest."

Gareth took the letter, scowling. "It's bait."

"Or a test," she murmured. "Maybe both."

"But you're not officially a noble yet," he reminded her. "No title has been restored. No land. No crest on record."

Milena looked down at the flame-ring on her finger. "Then maybe it's time I acted like one anyway."

He stared at her. "You're thinking of going?"

"I'm not thinking," she said. "I'm deciding."

And for the first time since rising from the ashes of her past, Milena allowed herself to speak the words she had buried for too long:

> "I was born a daughter of House Eldryn.

I was burned from the records.

But I am still here.

I am still flame.

And if the crown wants to look me in the eye…

Then I'll wear a mask — and let them see what they tried to do.