The eastern tower of Veyladoris was always cold.
Nymera stood in its highest chamber, where the wind slipped through broken stone like whispers through teeth. The tapestries had long rotted from the walls, but someone — Lucien — had recently cleared the space. A desk. A blade rack. A table set with nothing but two cups of dark wine.
He was already there.
Waiting.
As if he'd known she would come.
Lucien Draegaris didn't rise when she entered. He didn't bow. He just looked at her — cool, calculating — eyes the color of a frozen battlefield.
"You're bleeding," he said.
Nymera didn't answer. Not about the shallow cut on her arm. Not about the near-death battle with a creature too ancient to exist.
Instead, she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
And locked it.
His eyes flicked to the sound. His mouth curved.
"I see we're being honest tonight."
Nymera crossed the space in five quiet strides, stopping just opposite him.
"I need a pact," she said without preamble.
"A pact," he echoed.
"You get protection. I get access. Secrets. Guarded knowledge. The royal archives. Shadow lists. The court's true vaults."
He tilted his head.
"And in return?"
She didn't blink. "You get me alive long enough to break the Sovereign Houses from within."
Lucien sipped his wine. Slowly. Deliberately.
Then: "You killed something last night."
Nymera's jaw flexed.
"I did."
"Something that shouldn't exist anymore."
"Yes."
He set the cup down. Leaned forward. The tension between them stretched like a string drawn to its limit.
"You're holding a secret so big it's already glowing under your skin."
She didn't deny it.
Lucien stood. Not threateningly. But power shifted in the room when he moved.
"Why not run with it?" he asked. "Why come to me?"
Nymera's voice dropped to a whisper. "Because you already know the shape of it. And because you're the only one who hasn't tried to kill me… yet."
Lucien stared at her.
A long silence passed.
Then — "Tell me the truth, Nymera. One. Just one truth no one else knows. Or we don't move forward."
Her heart pounded once.
And then she gave it.
"I'm not the real Nymera Vaelis."
Not metaphor.
Not poetry.
A fact.
Lucien blinked — and for the first time, looked surprised.
"Explain."
Nymera stepped into shadow, the moonlight outlining the curve of her jaw, the stiffness in her shoulders.
"I was someone else. In another world. Another time. This body… this name… I woke up in it. The moment after she died."
She expected disbelief. Accusation. Mockery.
Instead, Lucien said quietly:
"That's not the first time I've heard that."
The wind howled once through the shattered window. Two masks fell at once.
Lucien stepped closer.
"I'll make the pact," he said. "We protect each other. We share what we uncover. And when it's time to burn this kingdom down…"
He reached out.
"We light the match together."
Nymera didn't hesitate.
She took his hand.
[Pact Formed: Alliance with Lucien Draegaris. Status: Strategic Partner. Emotional Status: Complex.]
[New Skill Synergy Unlocked — Dual Fate Trigger (Dormant)]
Outside, the court slept.
But power had changed hands in the dark.
And the fire had found its second spark.