He shrugged. “Not yet.”
A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. “You could always ask Bianca.”
Lewis groaned. “Not this again.”
Bianca, their former classmate, was the self-appointed queen of manipulation and the single most infuriatingly perfect person Vivienne had ever met. She had spent their academy years weaving lies, undermining her classmates, and taking credit for others’ work, especially Lewis’. Though Bianca had softened in adulthood, Vivienne still kept her guard up.
“She’s not the same person she used to be,” Lewis said, as if reading her thoughts. “None of us are.”
Vivienne shot him a doubtful look. “Mmhm. Take her, then. Just stay away from the bonfires, the carving knives, the ribbons, oranythingelse she could use to murder you.”
Lewis chuckled. “Tell you what, if I bring Bianca, youcan bring your ex-fiancé. That way, we can have equally miserable nights.”
Vivienne choked. “Gods,can you imagine?It’s been years since I?—”
Lewis grabbed her elbow, stopping her mid-step. “Viv, look.”
She released a small gasp.
A small envelope was wedged between the door and the frame of the Banner home, the moonlight glinting off a golden wax seal.
Theroyalseal.
3
Relief crashed over Vivienne like a breaking wave. “Oh, thank the Gods.”
She sprinted up the pathway, her boots skidding slightly on the loose gravel as she reached the door with Lewis right behind her. Her fingers closed around the envelope, tugging it free from where it had been wedged between the wood and stone.
The wax seal felt cool beneath her fingertips, the embossed owl and eight-pointed star catching the moonlight. She traced the ridges, reassurance settling in her chest.Official. Unmistakable. Finally, some news.
Lewis nearly vibrated with impatience. “Well, open it already!”
She slid a finger beneath the seal, carefully breaking it apart, the faint snap of wax giving way in the quiet night. The parchment inside was thick, heavier than the letters her parents usually sent. A small pit formed in her stomach, but she shook it off, unfolding the letter as quickly as she dared without tearing it.
Her eyes darted across the first line. Then the second. Her brow furrowed.
This isn’t either of their handwriting.
Her breath hitched, fingers tightening around the paper.
“What does it say?” Lewis leaned over her shoulder, his voice edged with curiosity and concern.
Vivienne barely heard him. She tilted the letter toward the sky, angling it for better light, but the shadows swallowed the ink, rendering the words an unreadable blur.
“It’s too dark,” she murmured, frustration creeping into her tone. She shifted her stance, holding the parchment higher, letting the moon’s glow skim the surface.
The golden seal, the unfamiliar handwriting, the weight of the paper, it all pressed against her at once. Something about this feltoff.
Miss Vivienne Banner,
Despite the diligent inquiries having been conducted across our lands and beyond, we are compelled to inform you, William and Liana Banner, your esteemed parents, have been missing for several months and are presumed dead.
We have received no communication, no word of their safety, nor any indication of their continued presence in this realm. Though their bodies have not been recovered, their absence and the evidence gathered by our scouts leave us with no other conclusion.
You are hereby summoned to the royal court at your earliest convenience, where further matters regarding your parents' estate and any remaining obligations related to your family's standing will be addressed. Please consider this correspondence as formal notification of the above decisions.
Regards,
