Yena didn't sleep that night. Not really.
How could she, when every time she closed her eyes, she saw the woman in the mirror? Or felt the weight of the phoenix hairpin pulsing softly under her pillow as if it was dreaming too?
The palace felt different the next morning. The air was too still, like the calm before a storm, or worse like someone had held their breath, waiting for her next mistake.
She dressed slowly, brushing ash from her sleeves that she swore hadn't been there the night before. Her maid, Young-mi, peeked in and gasped.
"You....you reek of incense," she whispered. "You didn't… go into the Forbidden Wing again, did you?"
Yena gave her a half-smile. "Define 'go into.'"
Young-mi paled. "Miss Seo! You can't keep doing this. Rumors are flying. They say the prince has been seen sneaking into the ancient observatory. They think he's lost his mind."
"Oh, good," Yena muttered. "He can join me in my padded cell."
Later that morning, she found herself summoned....not by the prince, but by the Empress Dowager herself.
It wasn't a request.
Yena was led through long marbled corridors lined with gold-leafed dragons and quiet-eyed guards. The Empress Dowager's quarters were a world unto themselves...quieter, older, somehow heavier than the rest of the palace. Like the stones themselves remembered too much.
The woman who awaited her sat straight-backed in a throne-like chair, wrapped in midnight-blue silk. Her eyes were sharp, her smile razor-thin.
"So," the Empress said. "You're the shaman girl who likes to break rules."
Yena bowed. "I prefer 'creative boundaries.'"
"Do you know what happens to those who disturb the Phoenix Wing?"
Yena swallowed. "Nightmares. Hallucinations. And possibly ghost therapy?"
The Empress didn't smile.....but her eyebrow twitched. Barely.
"I once knew a girl like you," she said. "Curious. Clever. Too bold for her own good."
"What happened to her?"
"She became Empress."
Yena blinked.
"But first," the Empress added, voice suddenly like ice, "she had to survive the Court."
Back in the observatory, Joon found a page he hadn't noticed before. Tucked behind a loose panel, coated in dust and time.
A letter. Unfinished. The signature barely visible.
From Consort Hae.
He wears the crown, but the fire is mine. When the stars return, the door will open again. I am not afraid. She will finish what I began.
Joon stared at the line.
She will finish what I began.
"She," he whispered. "Yena."
His heart thudded.
This wasn't a coincidence. It was a cycle. A loop waiting to be broken.
He grabbed his coat.
That night, Yena returned to her quarters to find her mirror covered in black silk. Her belongings rearranged. And a single item placed on her bed.
A scroll, sealed with red wax bearing the crest of the royal astrologers.
She broke it open. Inside, one line:
On the next blood moon, the fire will test her. If she is not the flame, she is the fuel.
She sat down hard.
"Well," she said into the silence, "isn't that just delightful."
Behind her, the mirror twitched.
Yena didn't sleep again. Not because of the cryptic scroll or the cursed mirror. Not even because she might be a phoenix reincarnate with a death prophecy stuck to her name.
No, it was because a royal cat.....yes, a cat, in golden bells and an embroidered collar.....appeared in her room at midnight, stared at her soul, knocked the scroll off the table, and walked out like it had done its job.
She stared after it. "I don't even know what omen that was supposed to be."
At sunrise, she was summoned again....this time by the High Priest of the Celestial Temple, a man whose eyebrows looked older than the palace.
He studied her with eyes like cracked jade. "You carry the fire," he muttered.
"I also carry trauma," Yena said, deadpan.
He ignored her. "Do not trust the stars completely. They show paths, not promises."
Then, he handed her a bowl of what looked like haunted soup and told her to drink it before the blood moon. "To soften your mind's walls."
Yena stared at the bowl. It smelled like betrayal. "This isn't going to make me cough feathers, is it?"
"No," he said gravely. "Only truths."
She blinked. "You people really need hobbies."
Elsewhere, Crown Prince Joon was dealing with his own headache....a council meeting.
The ministers were restless. Whispers had begun. About changes in the prince's behavior. About the shaman maid too often seen leaving forbidden wings and ancient libraries.
"Your Highness," Minister Kwan said, "I heard disturbing rumors. Are we to believe a servant is advising you on palace matters?"
Joon leaned back. "Rumors say a lot of things, Minister. They also said my ancestor was part dragon. Doesn't make it true."
The man spluttered. "But the maid....."
"Will remain under my protection," Joon said coldly. "Until I say otherwise."
There was a long silence.
That evening, Yena returned to the observatory alone.
The phoenix hairpin burned warm against her skin as she placed her palm on the stone table. Suddenly, something shifted....a panel slid open, revealing an ancient device. A rotating disk engraved with stars and fire sigils.
As she touched it, it spun, glowing faintly.
And then she heard it.....a whisper not from the air, but from inside her mind.
"The curse was never meant for the heir… It was meant for the heart."
She staggered back. "Okay. Nope. Definitely ghost therapy."
But she couldn't look away.
The prophecy was coming for her...not just because of Joon, or fate… but because something inside her had always belonged to the fire.