Celestia's POV
I burned Aldric's letter the moment we crossed into the capital territory.
Marcus watched the ashes scatter in the wind from our moving carriage. Destroying evidence?
Destroying weakness. I brushed soot from my gloved fingers. The moment we enter that palace, I can't afford to feel anything.
Can you actually do that? Turn off five years of rage with a snap?
I've had plenty of practice turning off feelings. I pulled out the veil I'd chosen—heavy black silk that would hide my entire face, with only a thin mesh over the eyes. Six months with Lord Harren taught me how to disappear inside my own head.
Marcus's expression darkened. We didn't talk about those six months. Ever.
This is different, he said quietly. Lord Harren was a monster you could hate cleanly. Aldric... He hesitated. You loved him once.
Once. I secured the veil over my face, testing how much it obscured. Perfect. Even my own mother wouldn't recognize me like this. That girl died in a chapel five years ago.
Did she? Because you're going back to the exact place that killed her.
I'm going back to destroy that place. I checked my reflection in the carriage window—a faceless shadow in elegant black. There's a difference.
The capital appeared on the horizon as the sun set. The sprawling city I'd grown up in, with the Imperial Palace rising from its center like a jeweled crown.
My chest tightened despite myself.
Are you sure about this? Marcus asked. We could still turn around. Build your power somewhere else. You don't owe these people anything.
I don't owe them salvation, I agreed. But I owe myself revenge. And I can't get that from a distance.
The carriage rolled through the city gates. People crowded the streets even at this hour—merchants closing shops, nobles heading to dinner parties, children playing in the last light of day.
All of them oblivious to how close they were to civil war.
All of them depending on me to save them.
No pressure.
When we arrive, I said, shifting into planning mode, you'll handle all direct communication with the Emperor. I'll observe from behind the veil and speak only when necessary.
He'll want to know who you are.
Let him want. Mystery is power. I straightened my shoulders. What do we know about the current situation?
Marcus pulled out his notes. The old Emperor died three weeks ago. Aldric took the throne immediately, but half the High Council is fighting his decisions. Duke Ashford—your father—is leading the opposition, claiming Aldric is too unstable to rule.
My hands clenched. My father is still on the Council?
Head of the Council, actually. Married Vivienne off to a northern lord last year to secure more alliances.
Vivienne's married? Something twisted in my chest. To who?
Lord Brennan. Elderly, wealthy, no heirs. She's basically been sold again. Marcus's voice was carefully neutral. Sound familiar?
It did. Too familiar.
Despite everything, Vivienne was my sister. And she'd been manipulated just like me, drugged and used and destroyed by the same people.
Maybe she deserved some revenge too.
What about Duchess Elara? I asked.
Still operating in the shadows. Still dangerous. She's been pushing her son as an alternative to Aldric, claiming the Emperor is compromised by grief.
Grief over what?
Marcus met my eyes. Over you. Apparently Aldric's been obsessed with finding Celestia Ashford for five years. The court thinks he's lost his mind.
My throat tightened. I forced air through it. Good. Grief-mad Emperors are easier to control.
Are they? Or are they unpredictable?
The carriage slowed. We'd reached the palace gates.
My pulse kicked into high gear. Through the veil, I watched guards approach to check our credentials.
Papers for The Architect, Marcus called out, handing over the imperial summons with Aldric's seal.
The guards' eyes widened. They bowed quickly. The Emperor is expecting you. He's been asking about your arrival hourly.
Desperate. Just like his letter said.
Perfect.
The gates swung open, and we rolled into the palace courtyard.
It looked exactly the same. The same stone paths I'd walked as a child. The same gardens where Aldric and I had played. The same chapel where they'd destroyed my life.
My hands started shaking. I gripped them together to make it stop.
Breathe, Marcus whispered. You're The Architect. You're in control.
Right. Control. I was in control now.
The carriage stopped in front of the main entrance. Servants rushed forward to open the door.
I stepped out into the courtyard where I'd been dragged away five years ago.
The same stones. The same air. Even the same roses blooming in the garden.
But I was different. Completely different.
This way, Architect, a servant said nervously. The Emperor is waiting in his private study. He insisted on meeting you immediately upon arrival.
My heart hammered. Take me to him.
We walked through corridors I knew by heart but pretended to see for the first time. Past the throne room where they'd given my father that terrible choice. Past the chapel where I'd been forced into marriage.
Every step felt like walking through a graveyard of my own memories.
Finally, we stopped at a heavy wooden door.
The Emperor's private study, the servant announced. He knocked. Your Majesty? The Architect has arrived.
Send them in. Aldric's voice came through the door.
Deeper than I remembered. Rougher. Tired.
The servant opened the door and gestured for me to enter.
I hesitated for just a second. Once I walked through that door, there was no going back.
Then I thought about my father's cold eyes. About Lord Harren's cruel hands. About six months of hell and five years of clawing my way back to power.
I stepped inside.
The study was exactly as I remembered—books lining the walls, a massive desk covered in papers, windows overlooking the garden where we used to meet in secret.
And there, standing by the window with his back to me, was Aldric.
He'd changed too. Taller, broader in the shoulders. His hair was longer than he used to wear it. Even from behind, I could see the tension in his posture.
Architect, he said without turning around. Thank you for coming. I know my terms were... demanding.
I don't accept demanding terms unless they're mine, I replied, keeping my voice low and controlled—nothing like the girl he'd known. I came because the price was right.
He turned around.
And I forgot how to breathe.
Five years had carved away the softness from his face. He looked older, harder, with lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before. Dark circles suggested he wasn't sleeping.
But his eyes, those eyes I'd loved since childhood—were exactly the same.
They locked onto my veiled face with desperate intensity.
I'm told you're the best political strategist in the Empire, he said.
I am.
Then help me save it. He moved closer, and I forced myself not to step back. Civil war is coming. Duke Ashford has half the Council ready to declare me unfit to rule. If I fall, the Empire fractures.
Why should I care if it does?
The question clearly surprised him. Because thousands of innocent people will die.
People die every day, Your Majesty. Why are these deaths my responsibility?
Because you have the power to prevent them. His voice roughened with emotion. Please. I'm begging you. Name any price—
I already named my price. You accepted. Now let me work.
We stood three feet apart. Close enough that I could smell the same soap he'd always used. Close enough to see the gold flecks in his brown eyes.
Close enough that if I reached out, I could touch him.
I didn't.
There's something about you, Aldric said suddenly, his eyes searching my veiled face. Something familiar. Have we met before?
My heart stopped. No.
Are you certain? Your voice, the way you move
I'm certain. I stepped back, putting distance between us. I've never been to the palace before. Now, shall we discuss the political situation, or would you prefer to waste time with pointless questions?
He blinked, clearly taken aback by my sharp tone. Right. Of course. Forgive me.
He turned back to his desk, rifling through papers.
The moment his back was turned, I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to slow my racing heart.
He'd almost recognized me. After five years. After everything I'd changed.
Some part of him still knew me.
That was dangerous.
That was terrifying.
That was... something I couldn't let myself think about.
Here. Aldric turned back with a stack of documents. These are the current political alliances, the Council members' positions, the threats we're facing. I need your analysis by tomorrow.
I took the papers, careful not to let our fingers touch.
I'll need a private workspace. Somewhere secure where I won't be disturbed.
There's a suite in the east wing. Completely private. I'll have it prepared for you.
The east wing. Where the royal family's private chambers were located.
Where Aldric's rooms were.
Somewhere else, I said quickly. The west wing. Away from the main palace.
The west wing is half-abandoned.
Perfect. I prefer isolation.
He studied me for a long moment. As you wish. Marcus can stay in the guest quarters.
Marcus stays with me. I wasn't being separated from my only ally here. Non-negotiable.
Fine. Aldric ran his hand through his hair—a gesture I remembered from when he was stressed. Is there anything else you need?
Yes. I needed him to stop looking at me like he was trying to see through my veil. I needed my heart to stop pounding every time he spoke. I needed to remember why I was here.
Revenge. I was here for revenge.
Just privacy, I said. And Your Majesty? Don't try to discover my identity. The moment you do, I leave. Understood?
Understood. But his eyes lingered on me. Though I have to ask—why all the secrecy? What are you hiding?
Everything. I was hiding everything.
That's my business, I replied. You hired The Architect. That's all you get.
I turned to leave.
Wait, Aldric called out.
I stopped, hand on the door.
I just want to say... thank you. For coming. I know you could have refused. His voice dropped to almost a whisper. I won't waste the chance you're giving me.
I looked back at him over my shoulder.
He stood by the window, silhouetted against the dying light, looking lost and desperate and nothing like the Crown Prince who'd let them drag me away.
Don't thank me yet, Your Majesty, I said softly. You have no idea what I'm really here to do.
I walked out before he could respond.
In the corridor, Marcus waited with a knowing look.
Well?
He almost recognized me, I whispered, my voice shaking despite my best efforts. After everything I've changed, some part of him still knows.
Is that a problem?
I thought about Aldric's desperate eyes. About the way he'd looked at me like I was a puzzle he needed to solve. About how my traitorous heart had skipped when he'd stepped closer.
Yes, I said finally. It's a very big problem.
Because if Aldric discovered who I really was before I was ready to reveal it, my entire plan would collapse.
And I'd be vulnerable again.
I couldn't afford to be vulnerable.
Not ever again