The cold determination in Lord Valerian's final command—"Tomorrow you will wear the blood red"—was replaced by a chilling new dictate. When Lady Lyra arrived in the morning, the heavy chest held not the expected red velvet, but a single gown of pure, unblemished white.
"The Lord requires purity for the Binding," Lyra stated, her voice devoid of inflection. "White is the color of the Creatrix Regium's sovereignty and the final, absolute commitment. You will wear it."
Ezra submitted to the dressing ritual, the smooth silk of the gown feeling like a shroud. The white emphasized her exposed neck and arms, a look of ceremonial vulnerability that belied her inner resolve. She knew this was a visual strategy—to present the Lord's claim as an act of divine order, not savage force.
The hour for the final preparations arrived swiftly. Lord Valerian summoned Ezra to his private study, a cold space dominated by a massive Elemental Earth stone pulsing with slow, steady energy.
"The celestial alignments are absolute," Lord Valerian announced, standing beside a table where the heavy, ceremonial Nexus Collar lay upon a velvet cushion. "The ceremony proceeds tonight. We must discuss the mechanics of the transference."
He picked up the collar—a terrifying fusion of cold silver and dark iron. "This facilitates the seamless transfusion of blood at the moment the souls begin their merge. Due to the volatile, composite nature of my blood the transfer must be instant and overwhelming, bypassing your body's natural defenses."
Ezra forced herself to reach out and touch the cold metal, testing the temperature of her fear. "And if my body rejects your blood, Lord Valerian? If the Fae-Lesser nature cannot accept the Abomination's sustenance?"
Lord Valerian looked at her, his expression utterly serious. "Then your death will be instantaneous, and mine will follow within the hour. The chaos will consume us both. But you will not fail, Ezra. Your bloodline is the only one in existence that matches the prophecy's requirement for sovereign Fae purity."
He replaced the collar, deliberately focusing on the ritual's necessity. "The moment the collar is locked, the transfer begins, stabilizing the convergence. This is the only bargain in this world that demands absolute success from us both."
Ezra maintained her composure, her eyes fixed on the metal. "You risk everything on a prophecy you cannot prove, Lord Valerian."
"I risk everything on a truth that has been waiting millennia for its completion," Val countered. "And now, we address the matter of leverage."
He walked to a secured cabinet carved deep into the Elemental Earth stone, retrieving a heavy ledger bound in dark leather.
"Your continued survival is my primary interest, Ezra," Lord Valerian stated, turning the ledger over in his hands. "Your father, Mr. Finch, possesses the complete political and financial records of the King's dealings with the Fae courts—records he was using to seek protection. Kaelen has retrieved these."
Ezra felt a sickening lurch. Her father's true wealth was not money, but information—information that could destabilize Atheria entirely.
"He is a solicitor, Lord Valerian," Ezra said, striving to keep the terror out of her voice. "He has no magical relevance."
"His relevance is political," Val corrected, tapping the ledger. "If you should attempt to sabotage the Binding—by refusing to participate, or by causing disruption—I will personally ensure these records are delivered to every dispossessed faction in Atheria and beyond. Your father will have engineered a civil war that will destroy everything he ever tried to protect."
He closed the ledger with a sharp finality. "Tonight, the new moon rises. You will be escorted to the chamber of the Binding when the Elemental Earth Stone reaches its peak pulse. Prepare yourself, Ezra. You have chosen the seat of protection. Tonight, you become The Lord's ultimate possession."
As Ezra left the study, the smooth, cold metal of the collar burned itself into her mind. She walked back to her chamber, her mind racing, and glanced out the window one final time. It was sunset, and the horizon glowed with a terrifying, blood-orange light. Directly beneath her window, sitting in the dust of the elemental forge, were her father and Clara, brought to Veridia by Kaelen and two Demon guards. They were utterly unharmed, but their faces were etched with silent, terrified resignation. Lord Valerian had brought his final, absolute leverage—her family—to the very gates of the Binding ceremony.