The house woke Kael before sunlight did.
He sat upright in his bed, heart pounding, breath sharp in his throat. A sound moved through the stone walls like a long, slow ripple. It was not loud, not enough to wake a servant sleeping two doors away, but it threaded straight into him. A pull. A whisper. A reminder.
Something in Everfell had shifted.
He pushed aside the blankets and stood. The floor was cold beneath his feet, but the chill steadied him. He dressed quickly and stepped into the corridor.
The east wing was quiet. Shadows clung more tightly to the corners than usual. The air held a weight that did not belong to morning. He moved toward the sealed room without thinking, guided by the strange pulse that had stirred him from sleep.
Halfway down the passage, he saw Seraphina.
She stood with her back to him, one hand on the wall as if listening. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, unbound, as though she had left her room the instant the house called. The early light from the narrow window painted her in pale silver.
"Seraphina," Kael said softly.
She turned. Her eyes looked darker than usual, the blue deepened by shadows under her lashes. "You felt it too."
"Yes."
She nodded once and walked beside him without another word.
When they reached the sealed room, the door stood slightly open.
Foret had sworn he had locked it. Kael remembered seeing the key on the chest. He remembered the sound of the lid closing. He remembered leaving the room with the sense that something had been properly put to rest.
Now the door stood waiting. Not broken. Not forced. Simply open.
Kael swallowed. "Did the house do this?"
"Or something inside it," Seraphina murmured.
They stepped into the room.
It was not empty.But it was no longer quiet.
The bottles inside the chest pulsed faintly, each one glowing with a dim, slow heartbeat of light. It was not bright, but it was alive.
Kael approached the chest. His skin prickled with a faint sensation, like standing near a storm but feeling the gusts only through memory.
"What does this mean?" he asked.
Seraphina lifted her hand. The pendant at her throat brightened the way metal warms under sun. "The house is speaking. It is telling us the sealed room is no longer dormant."
Kael frowned. "Because we opened it?"
"Because the truth moved," Seraphina whispered. "Because you let the sea return a piece of her. Because Foret spoke. Because memory hates silence."
Kael stared at the bottles. "Are they reacting to us?"
"No," Seraphina said quietly. "They are reacting to someone else."
Kael turned sharply. "Who?"
Before she could answer, Foret appeared in the doorway. His breathless expression told Kael he had run all the way here.
"I saw movement near the outer grounds," Foret said. "Someone approached the east gate in the night. Someone wearing a council cloak."
Kael tensed. "The council was not told about the sealed room."
"Someone was told," Foret said. "Or someone stole a page."
Seraphina stepped closer. "Who do you think it was?"
Foret hesitated. "There is a man on the council who believes the Saint's memory should never surface again. He wears blue."
Kael felt his stomach twist. "Advisor Maeron."
Foret nodded. "He came to the quay once, long ago. He wanted the vessels destroyed."
Kael clenched his jaw. "If he entered the grounds last night, he is after the sealed room."
Seraphina looked at the illuminated bottles. "He cannot take these. The house will not allow it."
Kael gestured toward the open door. "It allowed someone to open the room."
Seraphina studied him, her expression unreadable. "Or it allowed us to see that someone tried."
Foret looked between them. "We need to move the vessels. Hide them somewhere he cannot reach."
Kael shook his head. "No. If we move them, we invite danger. The house kept them for a reason."
"Then what do we do?" Foret asked.
"We find Maeron," Kael said. "And we find out how much he knows."
Seraphina touched the edge of the chest. "Before that, look."
Kael leaned in.
One bottle, the smallest, glowed more brightly than the rest. The shimmer inside swirled in slow spirals, like breath pressing against the glass.
The label was barely readable, but Kael knew the name without needing to see it.
Elira.
He reached out and touched the glass. A sound rose, soft and fleeting. Almost a voice. Almost a breath.
Seraphina inhaled sharply. "It is waking."
Kael stepped back. "What does that mean?"
"It means the truth is close," Seraphina said. "Close enough that memory wants shape."
Foret backed away from the chest. "If the council learns this, they will panic. They will silence this room. And us."
Kael straightened. "Then we must be faster than them."
Seraphina held his gaze. Her voice dropped. "This path will put you against the council. Against your own advisors. Against men you trusted."
"I know," Kael said.
"You may lose support."
"I expect to."
"You may lose your crown."
Kael paused, then answered in a quiet voice. "Then I lose it."
The room fell silent.
Seraphina looked at him for a long moment, something softening at the edge of her expression. A flicker of something unspoken. Respect. Pain. Maybe something more fragile.
"You are choosing a dangerous truth," she whispered.
Kael exhaled. "The alternative is a lie that has lasted too long."
The house hummed, approving.
Foret cleared his throat. "If you want to confront Maeron, do it before he alerts the others. He is not a patient man. If he believes the sealed room is open, he will act tonight."
Kael nodded. "Then tonight, we confront him."
Seraphina touched the pendant at her throat again. "I will prepare the house. It will listen."
Kael turned toward her. "And you? Will you be safe?"
Seraphina paused. "I am where the house is. And the house is awake."
Kael nodded slowly, unable to shake the feeling that something inside her was shifting too.
The three of them left the sealed room. The door shut behind them without a sound, as if the house itself had closed it.
Outside, the sky had brightened to pale gold, but Everfell's corridors remained dim. The walls held their breath. The truth was no longer hidden. It was moving.
And tonight, it would demand its first reckoning.