Location: Beaumont Estate – Hidden LibraryThe fire crackled low, shadows dancing across the walls of the hidden library. Eden stood tall, the rusted key clenched in her hand, the Bloodledger open before her. Every heartbeat drummed louder than the next.For the first time, the girl who had lived her life as a housekeeper’s daughter felt the weight of something far greater, the future of the Beaumont name.Jonathan watched her carefully, saying nothing. Clara bandaged now, resting on a chair lifted her head and whispered, “She’s alive she’s waiting for you.” The words wrapped around Eden’s chest like chains and wings all at once.A COMMAND BORN OF FIREEden turned, eyes fierce, “Jonathan. Gather every loyal name we have left. Quietly. I don’t care if they’re merchants, guards, or beggars from the alleys. If they ever owed my mother a kindness, I want them here.”Jonathan inclined his head, the flicker of pride breaking through his stern mask. “At once, my lady.” Her lips tightened. “D

Location: An Abandoned Warehouse, Outskirts of the CapitalThe lanternlight flickered across faces hardened by years of silence and survival. Eden sat at the head of the long wooden table, her cloak drawn tight, eyes sharp as steel.Around her, the remnants of the once-great council of the Beaumont loyalists gathered men and women who had lost families, fortunes, and freedoms under Marlow’s rise.Some bore scars on their faces, others in their voices. All of them carried one question: was this young woman truly the one to lead them.Eden let the silence stretch before speaking. “My mother is alive.” The words struck like lightning, Murmurs erupted some hopeful, some skeptical.“She is held within the Spire. But she is not broken. Already, she has begun to turn Marlow’s men against him. That is why we are here. The cracks in his empire are forming. And we must strike before he seals them.”SKEPTICISMAn older man, Lord Hawthorne, leaned forward. His hair was silver, but his eyes burned

Location: The Spire, Upper QuartersThe chamber was suffocatingly silent. Thick curtains muffled the wind, the air heavy with incense meant to mask the stench of chains and old iron.Harriet Beaumont sat upright in a carved chair, her posture regal despite the shackles that bit into her wrists. Her golden hair was streaked with silver now, her skin pale under torchlight but her eyes still burned with the fire of command.Across from her, Lord Marlow leaned against the table, studying her like a hunter toying with prey. “You’ve grown quieter,” he drawled, swirling a goblet of wine. “Is it resignation at last, Harriet Or simply fatigue”She lifted her chin, voice calm but edged with steel. “Resignation is a luxury for the defeated. I am not defeated.”Marlow chuckled. “You speak as though your daughter still lives. As though she could possibly reach you through these walls.”Harriet’s fingers brushed the faint chalk dust on her skirts remnants of her secret carvings. Her pulse quickened

Location: Beneath the Spire, The Old WaterwaysThe stone tunnel was narrow and damp, the air thick with mildew and the stench of rot. Eden’s torch sputtered against the dripping ceiling, casting long shadows that shifted with each breath of stale air.Behind her, the rebels moved in silence Jonas at her shoulder, Calla close behind, and further back, the assassin Kane walking with unnerving calm, as if the darkness belonged to him.“This place is a grave,” Jonas muttered, his boots crunching against brittle bones half-buried in silt. “Are you certain this path still leads inside?”Kane’s voice was low, smooth, unhurried. “I’ve walked these tunnels more times than you’ve drawn breath. They fed water to the Spire long before Marlow’s reign. Now they’re forgotten, except by me.”“Or by those waiting to gut us,” Jonas growled.Eden kept moving, her eyes fixed ahead. Every step echoed like a drumbeat in her chest. If this fails, we may not get another chance.THE TEST OF TRUSTThe rebels h

Location: The Spire – Inner ChambersThe chamber smelled of lavender and rot. Harriet sat in her gilded chair, her wrists bound by velvet cords that chafed more cruelly than chains. Her face was pale, drawn, but her eyes those same eyes Eden had inherited still glowed like embers.The guards thought she was broken. That years of confinement had drained her fire. But Harriet knew better. She had been waiting for the moment when the iron in her blood would matter again. And tonight, she felt it. Eden was near.THE WHISPER IN THE WALLSThe Spire was alive with sound screams, chains rattling, and the dull thud of collapsing steel. Harriet tilted her head.“They’re coming for you,” one guard mocked, tapping his spear against the wall. “Your little rats. They’ll die just like the rest.”But Harriet only smiled faintly. “Do you hear it?”The guard frowned. “Hear what?”“The walls,” Harriet whispered. “They remember.”Before he could scoff, the torches along the wall flickered violently, as t