Haru's POV
The Eastern Fortress loomed against the evening sky, its black stone walls absorbing the last rays of sunset as if devouring the light itself. Haru approached the massive gates alone, his armor stained with blood—some his own, most borrowed from his fallen guards to sell the deception. His face bore a carefully cultivated expression of rage and frustration, exactly what would be expected of the Blackthorn heir returning from a failed mission.
'Time for the performance of my life. Father won't be pleased.'
The gates swung open as the sentries recognized him. Whispers immediately spread among the guards—Lord Haru returning alone, wounded, his mission clearly gone awry. Good. Let the rumors begin. The more witnesses to his "failure" and apparent anger, the more convincing the story would be.
Haru didn't acknowledge the bowing servants and soldiers as he dismounted in the courtyard, tossing his reins to a stable boy with unnecessary force. The boy flinched, exactly the reaction Haru needed to see. His reputation for cruelty remained intact.
'Sorry, kid. I don't mean to frighten you.'
"Lord Haru," a familiar voice called. Sebastian Thorne approached with perfect posture, his expression neutral as always. "We had not expected your return so soon. The earl will want to hear of your journey immediately."
Haru gave a curt nod. "I'll see my father shortly. Have fresh clothes prepared."
"Of course, my lord. I've already prepared your chambers."
As they walked through the fortress corridors, servants and guards alike pressed themselves against the walls, avoiding Haru's gaze. The young Blackthorn's temper was legendary, particularly after a setback. None wanted to become the target of his ire.
Only when they reached the privacy of Haru's chambers did both men's demeanors change. Sebastian closed the door, checked for prying eyes or ears, then turned to his young master with genuine concern.
"You're injured," he observed, noting the cut on Haru's arm.
"Just a scratch," Haru replied, shedding his cloak. "Had to make it look convincing."
"And the Rosewoods?"
"Safe, for now. My contact in Silverkeep will establish them with new identities by week's end." Haru lowered his voice further. "Did my father send any other observers to the estate? Any who might contradict my story?"
Sebastian shook his head. "No, my lord. The earl trusted you with this task completely. It was, after all, meant to be your proving ground."
"Which I'm about to fail spectacularly in his eyes." Haru grimaced as he removed his armor. "A small price to pay."
The butler moved to a cabinet, retrieving medical supplies. "You should know that Lord Emberley visited yesterday. He and the earl spoke privately for hours."
Haru stiffened. "Emberley? The Archmage's cousin?"
"Indeed." Sebastian began cleaning Haru's wound with practiced efficiency. "Marriage negotiations, I believe. For his daughter, Lady Serafina."
'The second death flag.' Haru closed his eyes briefly, memories of events that hadn't yet happened flooding his mind. In the original timeline, Serafina Emberley had been forced into an engagement with Haru Blackthorn as part of a political alliance. Despite her initial hatred for the Blackthorn name, her genuine and compassionate nature had led her to try to see good in her future husband—a search that, in the original course of events, would prove fruitless and end in tragedy during an attack on the fortress.
"The timing is premature," Haru muttered. "Father shouldn't be considering marriage alliances for me for at least another year."
"The earl is accelerating his retirement plans," Sebastian explained. "He wishes to see the major pieces in place before he steps back from day-to-day rule. Your marriage to Lady Serafina would secure an alliance with the Mages' Council and bring considerable prestige to House Blackthorn."
Haru nodded, his mind racing. "What of the Sunfire Kingdom's princess? Wasn't she the preferred match in my father's long-term strategy?"
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, impressed as always by the breadth of information Haru somehow possessed. "Princess Elysia? Yes, but relations with Sunfire have cooled since their alliance with the Temple of Dawn. The earl considers Lady Serafina a more... beneficial choice."
'And what about what Serafina wants?'
Haru thought bitterly. He knew House Emberley had fallen on difficult times—a three-year drought had devastated their territories, leaving the once-prosperous noble family struggling to support their people. The marriage would bring desperately needed gold to the Emberley lands, while giving the Blackthorns a connection to one of the most prestigious magical lineages in the realm. Serafina, by all accounts, was sacrificing her future happiness for her people's welfare.
Another innocent to be caught in the Blackthorn web.
"I'll deal with the Emberley situation later," Haru decided. "First, I need to survive my audience with Father."
Sebastian finished dressing the wound. "Your story, my lord?"
"Rebel ambush at Silvermere Fork. They knew we were coming, had superior numbers. Most of my men killed, the Rosewoods abducted or possibly killed in the chaos—their bodies weren't found." Haru stood, testing his arm's movement. "I pursued but was outnumbered. Barely escaped with my life."
"And the captain of your guard?"
"Fought bravely. Killed by rebel archers as he defended me." Haru's expression darkened with genuine regret. "He was a good man. I wish I hadn't needed to involve him."
Sebastian nodded, understanding the burden his young master carried. "The servants have drawn a bath. Cleanse yourself, then dress in the formal attire I've laid out. The earl appreciates proper presentation, even in defeat."
"Thank you, Sebastian." Haru hesitated, then added softly, "For everything."
The old butler bowed. "We all have our roles to play, my lord."
After Sebastian departed, Haru sank into the steaming bath, letting the hot water ease his aching muscles. His mind turned to the Rosewoods again, particularly Lily. By now, she would have discovered the burnt remains of her home, learned of her family's supposed abduction. What would she do? In the original timeline, she had vowed vengeance against the Blackthorns, dedicating herself to healing magic that would eventually save the hero and unlock the secrets of the World Tree.
Without the trauma of finding her family's mutilated bodies, would her path change? And if it did, could he still predict the course of events to come?
'Too many variables. Too many ways this could all go wrong.'
After his bath, Haru dressed in formal Blackthorn black and silver, his family's crest—a raven clutching a thorned rose—emblazoned on his chest. As he stared at his reflection, he barely recognized himself. At fifteen, he was already tall and broad-shouldered, his face losing its boyish softness in favor of the sharp features that marked Blackthorn men. His raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes completed the picture of nobility and cruelty.
'Not me,' he reminded himself. 'Just the mask I wear.'
A soft knock at the door announced Sebastian's return. "The earl awaits you in his study, my lord."
Haru took a deep breath, settling the mantle of Haru Blackthorn, heir to the Eastern Province, firmly onto his shoulders. "Then let's not keep him waiting."
The walk to the earl's study felt longer than usual, each step bringing Haru closer to the man who, in this world, was his father—and who would have no qualms about destroying him if he discovered the truth. Roland Blackthorn had built his power on fear, eliminating any who opposed him, including his own brothers when they questioned his methods. That Haru was his son would offer no protection if he was deemed a liability.
Sebastian announced him at the study door, then retreated, leaving Haru to face the earl alone.
Roland Blackthorn stood at the window, his back to the door, hands clasped behind him as he gazed out at his domain. He didn't turn when Haru entered.
"Father," Haru began, his voice carefully controlled. "I've returned from—"
"I know where you've been," the earl interrupted, his voice deceptively soft. "What I don't know is why you return without the Rosewoods' heads."
Haru dropped to one knee, head bowed—the proper show of submission. "We were ambushed, Father. Rebels at Silvermere Fork. They knew our route, our numbers. They were waiting for us."
The earl finally turned, his cold eyes assessing his son. "Rebels? In my province? Bold of them."
"They flew no banners, claimed no allegiance. Professional mercenaries, I believe, hired by someone who wanted the Rosewoods alive."
"And why would anyone care about a merchant family accused of treason?" The earl moved to his desk, lifting a goblet of wine to his lips.
"Perhaps because they weren't traitors at all." Haru allowed a hint of suspicion into his voice. "Perhaps because someone wanted us to believe they were."
The earl's gaze sharpened. "Explain."
"The weapons cache that implicated them—it seemed too convenient. Too obvious. What merchant would hide rebel weapons in his own storehouse, barely concealed?" Haru stood, meeting his father's gaze. "Someone wanted the Rosewoods eliminated and used us to do it."
Roland Blackthorn studied his son, his expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. "Very good, Haru. You're thinking like a Blackthorn. Seeing the layers beneath layers."
Haru blinked, caught off-guard by the praise. "You knew?"
"Of course I knew." The earl circled his desk, approaching Haru. "The weapons were planted by Duke Varen's agents. He's been trying to destabilize our hold on the Eastern trade routes for years. The Rosewoods were merely convenient pawns."
"Then why order their execution?" Haru asked, genuine confusion in his voice.
"To send a message. That even the innocent aren't safe if they become entangled in plots against us." The earl placed a hand on Haru's shoulder. "It's a lesson you'll need to master as you take on more responsibilities. Mercy is a luxury we cannot afford."
Haru struggled to maintain his composure. The casual cruelty—the way his father had knowingly ordered the death of an innocent family simply to intimidate others—still had the power to shock him, despite everything he knew about the Blackthorns.
"I failed you," Haru said, feigning shame. "I should have been more vigilant, anticipated the ambush."
"Yes, you should have." The earl's grip tightened painfully on his shoulder. "But failure is also a teacher, perhaps the best one. Tell me what you've learned."
"To trust no one. To anticipate betrayal from all quarters. To be more thorough in my elimination of enemies."
"Good." Roland released him, returning to his desk. "You'll have another chance soon enough. Lord Emberley has offered his daughter's hand in marriage. A union with House Emberley will secure our relations with the Mages' Council and elevate our standing considerably."
Haru had been expecting this, but still felt a chill at the formal announcement. "Lady Serafina? The Archmage's apprentice?"
"The same. An exceptional match for House Blackthorn." The earl shuffled through some papers. "Her magical lineage is impeccable, stretching back to the founding of the Council itself. And her talents are... considerable."
"I understand House Emberley has fallen on difficult times," Haru said carefully.
The earl's smile was cold. "Yes, quite fortuitous for us. Three years of drought have left them desperate for gold to support their people. They approached us, not the other way around." He seemed pleased by this fact. "Emberley is sacrificing his daughter's future for his people's welfare. How noble."
The contempt in his voice was unmistakable. To Roland Blackthorn, such sacrifice was nothing but weakness to be exploited.
"The engagement will be announced at the Midsummer Ball," the earl continued. "Lady Serafina will arrive next week to begin her integration into the household."
'Perfect. Another complication.' Haru bowed his head. "As you wish, Father."
"Good. Now leave me. I want reports of any rebel movements in our territory. These mercenaries need to be found and made examples of."
Haru bowed formally and backed toward the door. Just as he reached it, the earl spoke again.
"Oh, and Haru? Don't disappoint me again. Even my son has limits to my patience."
"I understand, Father."
'More than you know.'
Lily's POV
The village of Westhollow sat nestled in the foothills of the Silvercleft Mountains, three days' hard ride from what remained of the Rosewood estate. Lily had returned to her grandmother's cottage with supplies and a plan—or at least the beginnings of one.
"You cannot be serious, child," her grandmother, Elara, said for what felt like the hundredth time. "Infiltrating the Eastern Fortress? It's suicide!"
"What would you have me do?" Lily demanded, packing healing supplies into a leather satchel. "Leave them to die? They're my family, Grandmother."
Elara Rosewood had once been the most renowned healer in the Eastern Province, before retiring to Westhollow when her advanced age made traveling to patients too difficult. At seventy-eight, her body might be frail, but her mind remained sharp as ever—as did her tongue.
"And what good will you do them by getting yourself captured or killed?" The old woman shook her head. "You're rushing into danger without a proper plan, Lily. Your gift for healing won't protect you from the Blackthorns' dungeons."
Lily paused, hands hovering over her neatly organized herbs. Her grandmother was right, of course. Charging into the fortress with nothing but determination and a few healing potions was indeed suicide. But the alternative—doing nothing—was unthinkable.
"There must be a way in," she insisted. "Servants, guards, suppliers—people come and go from the fortress. I just need to find the right disguise, the right story."
Elara studied her granddaughter thoughtfully. "Perhaps there is a way," she said finally. "But it would require patience. And training you haven't yet received."
Lily's head snapped up, hope sparking in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
The old woman rose from her chair with effort, crossing to an ancient chest in the corner of the room. From it, she withdrew a sealed letter, yellowed with age but still intact.
"When I retired, Earl Blackthorn himself sent me this letter, thanking me for my decades of service to the Eastern Province. He offered me a place at the fortress as the royal physician, which I declined due to my age." Elara handed the letter to Lily. "Inside is his seal and signature. With this, and with proper training, you might enter the fortress as my apprentice, sent in my stead."
Lily's eyes widened as she read the letter. "This... this could work! But you said I need training I haven't received."
"Healing minor injuries and common ailments is one thing, child. Being a royal physician requires knowledge of poisons and their antidotes, treating battlefield wounds, and—" Elara hesitated. "And skills of a more discreet nature that nobles require."
"You mean like treating diseases they don't want others to know about?" Lily asked.
"Among other things." Elara returned to her chair. "I can teach you what you need to know, but it will take time. At least a few weeks of intensive training."
"Weeks?" Lily's voice rose in dismay. "My family could be dead by then!"
"If the Blackthorns wanted them dead immediately, they would have executed them at your estate," Elara pointed out. "The fact that they were taken to the fortress suggests interrogation, which means time. Not much, perhaps, but some."
Lily paced the small cottage, torn between immediate action and the wisdom of proper preparation. "What if they're being tortured right now? What if they need me?"
"And what if you rush in unprepared and join them in their cells? Or worse?" Elara's voice softened. "I know it's difficult, my dear. But sometimes the patient path is the only one that leads to success."
With a frustrated sigh, Lily sank onto a stool. "Very well. Teach me what I need to know. But we work day and night—every moment counts."
"Agreed." Elara smiled, a hint of her former formidable self shining through. "We begin immediately. First lesson: the proper way to address nobility without giving offense."
As her grandmother launched into instruction on court etiquette, Lily's thoughts drifted to the Blackthorns—particularly to Haru Blackthorn, the young heir who had ordered her family's capture and her home's destruction. She had never seen him, but stories of his cold cruelty despite his youth had reached even Westhollow.
'I'll find you, monster,' she promised silently. 'And when I do, you'll pay for what you've done to my family.'
Little did she know that the young man she hated was working desperately to save not just her family, but the entire world.
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
A sudden knock at the cottage door startled both women.
"Who could that be?" Elara frowned. "I'm not expecting anyone."
Lily moved to the window, carefully peering out. A young man in white robes stood at their door, his golden-brown hair catching the afternoon sunlight. He carried a staff marked with the symbols of the Temple of Dawn.
"A Temple acolyte," she whispered to her grandmother.
Elara's eyebrows rose. "The Temple rarely sends their people this far east. See what he wants."
Lily opened the door, keeping her body positioned to block any view into the cottage. "May I help you?"
The young man—perhaps seventeen or eighteen—bowed respectfully. "Forgive the intrusion. My name is Aiden Lightbringer, acolyte of the Temple of Dawn. I'm seeking Healer Elara Rosewood."
"I'm her granddaughter, Lily. What business do you have with my grandmother?"
"I carry a message from High Priestess Eleanore." He produced a sealed letter bearing the Temple's sunburst seal. "It's a matter of some urgency."
Lily hesitated, then stepped aside. "Come in. But I warn you, my grandmother's health is fragile. Keep your business brief."
Aiden entered the cottage, bowing deeply to Elara. "Honored Healer. The Temple sends its highest regards to one whose skills are still legendary among our healers."
Elara chuckled. "Save your flattery, young man. I'm too old to be charmed by pretty words. Give me the letter and tell me why the Temple has suddenly remembered my existence after twenty years of silence."
Lily hid a smile as she closed the door. Her grandmother had never been one for formalities.
Aiden handed over the letter without further ceremony. "The High Priestess believes your expertise could be valuable in a matter concerning the Eastern Fortress."
Lily stiffened at the mention of the fortress, exchanging a quick glance with her grandmother.
Elara broke the seal and read the letter, her expression growing more serious with each line. When she finished, she folded it carefully and studied Aiden with new interest.
"So," she said finally, "the Temple is concerned about young Haru Blackthorn."
"You know of him?" Aiden asked.
"I delivered him into this world," Elara replied dryly. "And treated his childhood ailments until I retired. What's your interest in the boy?"
Aiden glanced at Lily, hesitating. "It's a... sensitive matter."
"My granddaughter has no love for the Blackthorns," Elara assured him. "Whatever you say won't leave this room."
The acolyte nodded. "For the past month, I've been having visions. Disturbing ones, of a great tree being consumed by darkness. The High Priestess believes these visions concern the World Tree, and that somehow, they're connected to Haru Blackthorn."
"What sort of connection?" Lily asked, unable to contain her curiosity despite her wariness.
"We don't know. But approximately one month ago, observers reported a... change in the young lord's behavior. Subtle, but significant." Aiden leaned forward, lowering his voice. "The Temple's seers felt a disturbance in the weave of fate, centered on the Blackthorn heir. And at the same time, my visions began."
Elara tapped the letter against her palm thoughtfully. "And Eleanore wants me to help you infiltrate the fortress to observe him more closely."
"Yes. We thought your connection might provide a natural way for me to enter without suspicion. As your assistant, perhaps." Aiden looked between the two women. "The High Priestess writes that Haru Blackthorn might be the key to preventing a great calamity... or causing it."
Lily's mind raced. This was too perfect an opportunity to ignore. "Grandmother, this could be the answer. If Aiden is going to the fortress, I could go with him. Two apprentices instead of one."
"Absolutely not," Elara began, but Aiden interrupted.
"Wait—what interest do you have in the fortress?" His golden eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion.
Lily hesitated, then decided honesty might serve her better than deception. "The Blackthorns took my family. Three days ago, Haru Blackthorn burned our estate to the ground and took my parents and brother prisoner. I need to find them before it's too late."
Understanding dawned on Aiden's face. "You're Lily Rosewood. The merchant family." He looked troubled. "We heard about the raid. The Temple has contacts who keep us informed of the Blackthorns' movements."
"Then you understand why I must go," Lily said, her voice hard with determination.
"It's far too dangerous," Elara protested. "The Blackthorns know your face, your name—"
"The Blackthorns have never seen me," Lily countered. "I've been at the Academy for the past three years, and before that, I was too young to attend the formal functions where Father might have presented me."
Aiden considered her thoughtfully. "The High Priestess did instruct me to use whatever resources necessary. Having someone with personal knowledge of the fortress's layout could be valuable."
"I don't have that knowledge," Lily admitted. "But I do have something even more valuable—motivation. And my healing skills are exceptional for my age."
"She's not exaggerating," Elara sighed, knowing she was fighting a losing battle. "The Academy called her the 'Lily of Life' for her affinity with healing magic." She turned to her granddaughter with resignation. "If you're determined to do this foolish thing, then I suppose it's better you go with Temple protection than alone."
Aiden nodded slowly. "Two apprentices would be more believable than one, especially for someone of your reputation, Healer Elara. And having another healer might help if..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
"If what?" Lily pressed.
"If my visions are correct about what's coming," he finished quietly. "The darkness I've seen—it affects people, changes them. Healing skills may be more valuable than any warrior's strength in the days ahead."
A chill ran down Lily's spine at his words. What exactly had the Temple acolyte seen in his visions?
Elara folded her hands in her lap, her decision made. "Very well. I'll write letters of introduction for both of you. Aiden as my primary apprentice, Lily as his assistant. The earl knows I've been training healers for decades—he won't question it." She fixed them both with a stern gaze. "But you'll spend at least two weeks training together before you leave. Aiden needs to learn the specific protocols the Blackthorns expect from their healers, and Lily needs polishing on noble etiquette."
"Two weeks?" Lily began to protest.
"Two weeks, or not at all," her grandmother said firmly. "The Blackthorns have survived this long without proper healing—they can manage a fortnight more."
Aiden bowed to the old healer. "Thank you, Healer Elara. The Temple is in your debt."
"Save your thanks until you've both returned safely," Elara replied grimly. "Now, let's begin. We have much to cover and precious little time."
As Elara began outlining what they would need to learn, Lily studied Aiden surreptitiously. The Temple acolyte had an air of quiet confidence about him, his movements graceful and deliberate. But there was something else too—a haunted look in his golden eyes that spoke of the weight of his visions.
What was his connection to Haru Blackthorn? And what did it mean for her family's fate?
'Two weeks,' she thought with determination. 'Hold on, Father, Mother, Eldrin. Just hold on a little longer. I'm coming for you.'
Serafina's POV
The towers of Emberley Keep rose against the twilight sky, their once-gleaming spires now dulled by years of drought and hardship. Serafina Emberley stood at her chamber window, watching as servants loaded trunks onto wagons in the courtyard below. Her trunks. Being prepared for her journey to the Eastern Fortress—to her new life as the future bride of Haru Blackthorn.
At seventeen, Serafina had always known a political marriage would be her fate. As the daughter of one of the realm's most prestigious magical families and apprentice to her great-aunt, the Archmage herself, she understood duty and sacrifice. But never had she imagined being promised to a Blackthorn.
A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Enter," she called, turning from the window.
Her father, Lord Cassius Emberley, stepped into the room. Despite the troubles that had befallen their lands, he still carried himself with the dignity befitting the head of an ancient magical house. But the lines around his eyes had deepened in recent years, and his once-rich robes now showed subtle signs of wear.
"The preparations are almost complete," he said, his voice gentle. "You'll depart at first light."
Serafina nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "I've packed my grimoires and components. Aunt Vivienne insisted I continue my studies at the fortress."
"The Archmage is wise as always." Lord Emberley crossed to his daughter, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Sera, I—"
"Don't apologize again, Father," she interrupted, offering a small smile. "We've been through this. I understand why the alliance is necessary."
"Understanding doesn't make it easier to bear." He sighed heavily. "To send my only daughter to the Blackthorns—"
"To save our people," Serafina corrected. "Three years of drought have left our stores empty and our people hungry. The Blackthorn gold will see them through until the rains return."
Her father's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You deserved better than to be sold for gold."
"I'm not being sold," she said firmly. "I'm fulfilling my duty to our house and our people. As you taught me."
Lord Emberley embraced his daughter tightly. "You have always made me proud, Sera. But never more than now."
Serafina returned the embrace, allowing herself this moment of vulnerability before she would need to don the mask of the perfect noble bride. When they separated, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
"Tell me what you know of Haru Blackthorn," she requested. "Beyond the rumors."
Her father's expression darkened. "There's little to know beyond the rumors, I'm afraid. He's been raised in his father's image—cold, calculating, ruthless. The earl has been grooming him to take control of the Eastern Province as he steps into semi-retirement."
"He's only fifteen," Serafina noted. "Quite young to shoulder such responsibility."
"The Blackthorns mature early in the arts of cruelty and control." Lord Emberley's voice held undisguised contempt. "Though there have been... strange reports recently."
Serafina's eyebrow arched with interest. "What sort of reports?"
"Inconsistencies. Actions that don't align with his established character." Her father frowned. "Last week, he was sent to execute a merchant family accused of treason. Instead, they vanished during a supposed rebel attack."
"You think he spared them?"
"I think nothing," Lord Emberley said carefully. "But the Temple of Dawn has taken an interest in the boy. Their seers have sensed something... unusual."
Serafina's interest sharpened. As the Archmage's apprentice, she was well-versed in the arts of divination and had great respect for the Temple's seers. If they had detected something amiss with Haru Blackthorn, it warranted attention.
"Perhaps he's not entirely his father's son after all," she mused.
"Don't let hope cloud your judgment, Sera." Her father's voice was stern now. "Whatever the truth may be, you're entering the viper's nest. The Eastern Fortress is no place for trust or optimism."
"I know," she assured him. "I'll be vigilant."
"And your magic—"
"Will remain controlled at all times," she finished. This was a conversation they'd had many times. "The Blackthorns must never know the full extent of my abilities."
Lord Emberley nodded with approval. Most knew Serafina as a talented fire mage—impressive, but not extraordinary by the standards of her lineage. Only her family and the Archmage knew the truth: that her affinity for fire was but a fraction of her power. That beneath her carefully cultivated control burned something far rarer and more dangerous.
"Good." He squeezed her hand. "Remember, this engagement is not yet a marriage. If things become untenable—if he proves to be the monster his reputation suggests—send word. We will find another way."
Serafina smiled at her father's protectiveness, though they both knew it was an empty reassurance. The alliance was their last hope to save their people. There was no other way.
"I should finish my preparations," she said gently. "Dawn comes early."
Lord Emberley nodded, kissing her forehead before withdrawing. At the door, he paused. "Sera... no matter what happens, know that you are the greatest treasure of House Emberley. Not our magic, not our history—you."
After he left, Serafina returned to the window. The last trunk was being loaded onto the wagons. Tomorrow, she would leave the only home she had ever known to be delivered to a family known for its cruelty and ambition. To be promised to a young lord whose reputation for coldness belied his years.
Yet something tugged at the edges of her thoughts—those strange reports her father had mentioned. The Temple's interest. What if there was more to Haru Blackthorn than the stories suggested?
She closed her eyes, reaching for the fire that always burned within her. It responded instantly, warming her from the inside, ready to be shaped by her will. But beyond the fire lay her true gift—rarer and more dangerous.
The gift of seeing the threads of fate.
Focusing her mind, Serafina reached out, searching for the thread that connected her to her future husband. It was there, glimmering faintly—a strand that shouldn't exist yet, as they had never met, but one that fate had already begun to weave.
And strangely, impossibly, it wasn't the black thread she had expected from a Blackthorn. Instead, it shimmered with colors that shifted and changed, like light refracted through crystal.
Her eyes flew open in surprise. Whatever—whoever—Haru Blackthorn truly was, he was not what she had been led to expect.
'How curious,' she thought, a small smile playing at her lips. 'Perhaps this arrangement will be more interesting than I anticipated.'
Outside, the first stars of evening appeared in the darkening sky. Tomorrow would bring a new chapter in her life—one filled with dangers, certainly, but perhaps possibilities as well.
Serafina Emberley, heir to an ancient magical lineage and future bride of the Blackthorn heir, turned from the window with renewed determination. She would enter the viper's nest with her eyes open and her power carefully concealed.
And she would discover exactly what secrets Haru Blackthorn was hiding.
Haru's POV
Back in his chambers after the tense audience with his father, Haru paced restlessly. Sebastian had left to carry messages to their contacts in Silverkeep, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
The news of his impending engagement to Serafina Emberley complicated matters significantly. From what he knew of the original timeline, she was meant to arrive at the fortress nearly a year from now, not next week. The acceleration of events was troubling.
Haru moved to his desk, where maps and books lay scattered in carefully organized chaos. From beneath a stack of ledgers, he withdrew a small leather-bound journal—his private record of death flags, future events, and possible interventions. He'd begun keeping it shortly after awakening in this body, afraid his foreknowledge might fade or become confused with the passing of time.
Flipping through the pages, he found his notes on Serafina Emberley:
Serafina Emberley - Archmage's apprentice. Fire mage of considerable talent, but hides deeper abilities. Engagement announced at Midsummer Ball. Initially distrustful, later tries to see good in me. Dies during rebel attack on fortress - sacrifices herself to save innocent bystanders. Her death is a pivotal moment that pushes events toward the Blight. MAJOR DEATH FLAG.
Haru frowned at the entry. He remembered more about her now—her courage, her compassion, her fierce determination to protect those weaker than herself. In the original timeline, she had died not because of any personal failing, but because she chose to save others at the cost of her own life. The kind of noble sacrifice the real Haru Blackthorn would never understand or value.
He would need to prevent that at all costs.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He quickly closed the journal, sliding it back beneath the ledgers.
"Enter," he called.
Sebastian returned, his expression carefully neutral as always. "My lord, I've sent the messages as requested. Our friends in Silverkeep will alert us when the Rosewoods are safely established."
"Good." Haru gestured for the butler to close the door. "What news from the rest of the fortress?"
"The staff is abuzz with your return. Rumors of the rebel ambush are already spreading." Sebastian moved to the hearth, stoking the fire. "And preparations have begun for Lady Serafina's arrival."
"So soon?"
"The earl wishes everything to be perfect. House Emberley may have fallen on hard times, but their magical lineage gives them considerable prestige." Sebastian straightened, keeping his voice low. "There's something else, my lord. A message from the Temple of Dawn arrived while you were with your father."
Haru's interest sharpened. "What did it say?"
"They've accepted the invitation to send a representative for Lady Serafina's welcome ceremony. Apparently, the Archmage requested their presence to bless the engagement." Sebastian's expression betrayed a hint of concern. "The Temple rarely involves itself in Blackthorn affairs."
"No, they don't." Haru tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. "The Temple, the Archmage's apprentice, and the Rosewoods—all converging at once. Something has accelerated the timeline."
"Is that significant, my lord?"
"Potentially catastrophic." Haru sighed, running a hand through his hair. "In the original course of events, these pieces weren't meant to come together for nearly a year. Something has changed the pattern."
Sebastian hesitated, then said carefully, "Perhaps... your own interventions have had unforeseen consequences?"
"That's exactly what I fear." Haru moved to the window, gazing out at the darkening sky. "By saving the Rosewoods, I may have set other events in motion prematurely."
"What can be done?"
"We adapt." Haru turned back to face his loyal butler. "Prepare guest quarters for the Temple representative. Whoever they send, we need to learn what they know."
"And Lady Serafina?"
A faint smile crossed Haru's face. "If my memory serves correctly, the Archmage's apprentice is no fragile court flower. She may prove to be an unexpected ally rather than a victim."
"A dangerous assumption, my lord," Sebastian warned. "The Emberleys have no love for the Blackthorn name."
"True. But desperate times forge unlikely alliances." Haru's expression grew serious. "I'll need to meet with her privately as soon as she arrives, before my father can poison her mind against me further."
"I'll arrange it," Sebastian promised. "Though it will require considerable discretion."
"I trust your abilities." Haru paused, his mind working through the complications. "There's one more thing. Have our eyes in Westhollow report any unusual activities. If my suspicions are correct, Lily Rosewood will be making her move soon."
Sebastian bowed. "Consider it done, my lord. Will there be anything else?"
"That's all for now. Get some rest, Sebastian. The coming weeks will test us all."
After the butler departed, Haru returned to his desk and carefully extracted his journal once more. He added new notes:
Timeline accelerating. Serafina arriving early. Temple of Dawn involved. Need to investigate connection. Prevent engagement announcement if possible, or at minimum ensure Serafina is never in position to sacrifice herself during the rebel attack.
He closed the journal, securing it in its hiding place. Outside his window, clouds obscured the stars, promising rain by morning. A fitting metaphor for the gathering storm he sensed approaching.
'The first death flag may be avoided,' he thought grimly, 'but how many more can I change before fate itself rebels?'
Only time would tell. For now, he needed to prepare for the arrival of the fiery apprentice who, in another life, had died for a cause she believed in, leaving behind a broken world teetering on the edge of destruction.
This time, Haru was determined to write a different ending.