Isoda

> They erased her name. Burned her bloodline. Left her for dead.

But Milena survived. Reborn into the heart of the empire that destroyed her, she moves through the royal courts like a shadow—silent, sharp, watching.

She has no interest in love. No patience for power games. Only one goal: make the crown remember what it tried to forget.

Then she meets him—the Crown Prince.
The man who unknowingly signed her family’s death.
The man who starts to notice her.
The man who, slowly… she can’t stop thinking about.

This is not the story of a girl who wanted to be queen.

This is the story of a forgotten heir who falls in love with her enemy… and still plans to bring down the kingdom

The forgotten blood

The invitation lay open beside the mirror, its wax seal now broken — but its weight, heavier than gold.

Milena stared at her reflection in silence.

Layers of silk and lace had been pulled over her body, forming a gown in muted bronze and forest black — the colors of her house, though none in the capital would recognize them. Gareth had found the dress in a forgotten chest beneath Blackwood Citadel, untouched since the fall of House Eldryn. She hadn't worn anything so fine in either lifetime.

Sister Maera fussed behind her, pinning the last strand of Milena's reddish hair. One lock — deep black — slipped free and framed her face.

"You'll need a name," Gareth said from the doorway, arms folded. "One they won't trace. You can't walk into the Crown Prince's ballroom as Milena Eldryn."

She nodded. "Then I'll walk in as Lady Miren Vale. A noble from the Northern Borderlands. The house has been dead for years."

He raised an eyebrow. "And if someone questions it?"

"I'll remind them," she said coldly, "that the North doesn't like being questioned."

Gareth sighed, then handed her a velvet box.

Inside was a mask — lace, silver-threaded, and edged with garnets. Elegant, yet haunting. "This belonged to your mother," he said softly.

Milena ran her thumb along the edge. "Then I'll wear it proudly."

As the carriage waited outside, her heart thudded louder than the horses' hooves. The palace would be glittering. Powerful. Filled with nobles who had toasted while her house burned.

Because tonight, she would see the enemy's face up close — and he would see hers.

Even if neither of them recognized the truth — yet.

The Mask of Nobility