---
The morning sun came soft through the silk curtains, making warm stripes across the floor.
Everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Outside the Duke and Duchess's room, a silver tray leaned against the door. On it—an unfamiliar letter. Sealed. The wax deep red, with a raven pierced by a thorned rose. And beneath it… a single white petal.
Fresh.
Soft.
Almost innocent.
But something about it felt wrong.
Sher's eyes sharpened as she stepped into the hall. No footsteps. No servants. Just one silent message.
Her fingers reached for it slow, hesitant. The wax was cold under her thumb. The paper thick and heavy. She turned it over, brow furrowed.
A raven impaled by a rose thorn.
A petal left like a whisper.
A chill brushed her neck as the curtain shifted behind her.
Then—
"You're not the only one who saw it."
Cassian's voice cut the silence, low and sharp. He stepped into the corridor, shirt half-buttoned, hair messy from sleep. But his eyes? Awake. Alert.
He moved closer, looking at the letter.
"That seal… it's not from the capital," he said grim. "Not officially."
His eyes narrowed.
"It's from the Bloodthorn Circle. They don't send letters… unless a blade has already been sent."
He looked at her, calm but heavy.
"Open it. Carefully. This isn't just a warning… it's a message. For you."
Sher didn't speak. Her thumb pressed into the wax, and with a faint snap, it broke.
The parchment inside thick. The ink nearly black.
She unfolded it slow.
No name.
No greeting.
Only words—elegant, terrifying in their calm.
---
The Letter:
> "The woman wearing the Duchess's face is walking too loudly."
"We remember the cold one. We respected her silence."
"But now the palace echoes with warmth… and weakness."
"Your son is lovely. Innocent. Loud."
"We wonder how long innocence can survive in fire."
"Keep smiling. We are watching. And we do not miss twice."
---
Sher's grip tightened. Her eyes flicked to the last line.
Her son. Karth.
So that's how it is.
They didn't just see her—they saw him.
Her voice low, controlled, but icy:
"They didn't kill me because they're calculating. They think they can still control me."
Cassian leaned in to read the letter. His eyes darkened.
"They know," he said flat. "Or they think they know. And now… they've marked Karth."
He looked calm, but cold.
"That makes it war."
Sher said nothing.
She stepped back, sank into a chair, stared at the letter long and heavy.
Her mind raced.
She could feel the version of herself they expected: cold, detached, cruel. A mother who lets her child grow ruthless just to survive.
But that Sher was gone.
Her hand lifted from her lap. Eyes met Cassian's.
"If it's war they want…" she said soft, "…then war they'll get."
"We don't have peace anymore."
Cassian stared a beat. Then he smiled. Slightly. Not amused. Proud.
"You really are dangerous now."
---
He folded the letter fast, almost like sealing a vow.
"I'll increase security," he said. "No one enters or leaves without being watched. I'll check every name on the staff list myself."
He paused, added:
"You could still hide. Pretend to be the cold duchess they remember."
A beat.
"But instead… you chose to fight."
Cassian stepped closer, voice low.
"If Bloodthorn wants war…
…they'll learn what it means to threaten a mother."
Sher whispered:
"Bloodthorn Circle…"
Eyes narrowed.
"What exactly are they?"
"And how much power do they hold?"
Cassian's voice grim.
"A secret noble faction. Assassins, spies, exiled royals. They believe in old ways—cold nobility, bloodline control, no place for emotion."
"They respected the Sher who was cold, calculating. Who didn't love. Didn't care."
He looked at her.
"Now that you've changed… they see you as a threat."
Sher stayed calm outside, but inside… a storm.
She stood, composed. Mind moving fast.
Cassian went to a hidden panel. It slid open, showing maps, scrolls, security routes.
"Karth stays with you. Even lessons are off. Someone inside this palace is already theirs."
He glanced back.
"You once asked if I'd walk beside you again."
He stepped forward.
"Here's my answer."
Voice low:
"If you go to war for this family… I go with you."
Eyes locked.
No words. Only a silent promise.
---
Knock.
"Apologies, Duke! Duchess!" a guard called. "Someone's at the estate gate. She says she's from the capital."
"Name?" Cassian asked, tense.
"She didn't give one. Just… 'a messenger.'"
Sher's gaze sharpened.
"Let her in."
Cassian nodded.
"But don't take eyes off her. Not for a second."
---
Main Foyer
Grand doors creaked open. Cold breeze followed the figure.
A woman veiled in white entered. No jewels. No guards. Just a pale cloak trimmed with silver—and a red thread tied to her left wrist.
Her presence was cold. Absolute.
She didn't bow. Didn't smile. Just stared at Sher.
Voice soft, sharp as a blade:
"Duchess," she said, curtsying slightly—mocking.
"The world changed while you were sleeping."
"I've come to see if the fire is real… or just smoke."
Cassian stepped closer behind Sher, tense.
Sher didn't flinch. She stepped forward.
"I already proved it," she said cool. "Where there's smoke… there's fire. You should know by now."
Eyes narrowed.
"Friend or enemy?"
The woman smiled slow.
"Depends… on what you are now."
She stepped closer.
"The Sher I knew was predictable. Empty. Useful."
"You're not empty anymore."
Her gloved hand lifted, holding a black-sealed letter.
"This is your test. Open it—and you play their game. Refuse… and you still play. Only blind."
Sher raised an eyebrow.
"So… open it, and I become their dog again?"
The woman smirked.
"Call it a leash. A second chance."
"That seal means obedience."
"No negotiating. Only prove you're worth sparing."
Sher paused. Then—she threw the letter at the woman's chest.
It hit, fell cold to the floor.
For a heartbeat—nothing.
Then the woman laughed.
Not cruelly. Genuine.
"Well then…" she said with grin, "new Sher isn't a pet."
She turned, cloak billowing like smoke.
"Be careful, Duchess," she said walking out.
"Last one who spat in the Circle's face… buried three generations to make a point."
Doors slammed shut.
---
Cassian stood beside Sher, silent.
Then—
"…You just declared war."
He turned to her.
"And I've never been prouder to be your husband."
Sher chuckled faint.
"I thought you'd regret it."
Cassian laughed quiet.
"If I wanted safety, I'd marry a noblewoman who collects porcelain cats."
He stepped closer.
"But I married the woman who threw death back at the Circle's face."
Pause.
Voice soft:
"I don't regret it."
"Only regret… not standing beside this version of you sooner."