Rina turned away from the mirror, her arms loosely crossed over her chest, the fabric of her nightgown clinging to her skin. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting flickering shadows across the carved ceiling, and the sweet scent of lavender in the air was now a quiet lullaby, beckoning her to sleep.
She moved back toward the bed slowly, her bare feet silent against the marble floor. Every movement felt heavier than it should, like her body hadn't quite caught up with the decision her heart had made.
She pulled the blankets around her and sat upright, knees to her chest once more. But she wasn't crying now. The tears had dried, leaving only that aching emptiness behind, the hollow breath of someone who had just buried a part of themselves.
Her fingers traced the edges of a small silver locket resting on her nightstand. She picked it up, opened it gently. Inside was a tiny pressed flower and a scrap of parchment. Aiden's handwriting.
> *"No matter what happens, remember you are more than your name."*
Her throat tightened.
"I hope you were right," she murmured.
With one final glance at the moonlit window, she let herself fall back into the bed. Her head sank into the pillows, her body slowly relaxing beneath the covers. But her mind did not rest.
Thoughts of tomorrow, of the name *Rotschi*, of the stranger whose fate now entwined with hers, spun in her mind like a storm on the horizon.
Would he be cruel? Would he be kind?
Would he even *see* her?
*I won't break,* she promised herself, as her eyes fluttered closed.
*Not like this. Not for them.*
And with that, sleep finally claimed her—not gentle, not peaceful, but necessary.
In the silent darkness of her room, beneath the golden crests of House Amberheart carved into the canopy above her bed, Rina drifted into a restless slumber…
…and somewhere far away, in the heart of another cold and unforgiving palace, a boy named Jin Rotschi opened his eyes.