The attic was quiet.
Everyone had settled into cushions and low stools, the book spirit standing like a patient historian.
Ivy sat cross-legged, arms folded, eyes sharp.
"Start talking," she said.
Nia smiled.
Orie rolled her eyes.
And the story began.
Nia spoke first.
"We were neighbors. Our fathers worked in the Threaded Court—mine was a spell archivist, hers a military strategist."
Orie added, dryly:
"They were best friends. Which meant we were stuck together. All the time."
Nia grinned.
"Stuck? I loved it. We were chaos. I used to sneak into the threadhall and rearrange the sigils just to see what would happen."
Orie snorted.
"And I used to fix them before anyone noticed. Or blamed us."
Ivy blinked.
"You were wild?"
Nia laughed.
"I was carefree. Orie was bossy. She used to drag me into every duel, every debate, every secret meeting she wasn't supposed to be in."
Orie smirked.
"I was preparing for power. She was preparing to run from it."
Nia's voice softened.
"But we balanced each other. I was the wind. She was the anchor."
Orie looked at Ivy.
"We stitched our first vow when we were ten. In the threadhall. No adults. No permission. Just two girls with too much magic and too many secrets."
Ivy whispered.
"What was the vow?"
Nia glanced at Orie.
"To protect what mattered. Even if the court didn't."
Orie nodded.
"And to never let the crown break us."
Ivy stared.
"But it did."
Orie's voice cracked.
"Not completely."
The book spirit spoke then, voice low and reverent.
"They were wild. Brilliant. Reckless. And they stitched me into the binding to remember what they couldn't afford to forget."
Ivy looked at them.
Two women.
One crowned.
One stitched.
And suddenly, her own story felt less like chaos—and more like inheritance.
Nia leaned back against the cushion, eyes distant with memory.
Orie sat straighter, but her voice softened.
Nia began:
"We used to sneak into places we weren't allowed. Threadhalls, casting chambers, even the royal archives."
Orie smirked.
"Especially the royal archives."
Nia laughed.
"That's where we met him. Crown Prince Ernest. Tieran's father."
Ivy blinked.
"Wait—you knew Tieran's dad?"
Orie nodded.
"Ernest was seventeen. We were thirteen. He was supposed to be studying diplomacy. We were supposed to be nowhere near him."
Nia grinned.
"But we were curious. And reckless."
Orie added:
"And he was kind. Too kind for court."
Nia's voice softened.
"He had a personal guard. Jaspher. Your father."
Ivy's breath caught.
"My dad?"
Orie smiled.
"He was quiet. Observant. Always watching. But when we snuck past the sigil gates, he didn't report us."
Nia chuckled.
"He taught us how to cast shadow threads. How to walk unseen. He said if we were going to break rules, we should at least do it properly."
Orie's voice turned wistful.
"We learned more from those nights than any court lesson. We learned what magic was for. Not just power. But protection. Connection."
Nia added:
"And we learned who we were meant to be."
Ivy whispered:
"You fell in love?"
Nia smiled.
"Not all at once. But yes."
Orie looked away.
"Ernest loved deeply. Jaspher loved quietly. And we… we stitched ourselves into their stories."
Nia's voice cracked.
"We thought it would last forever."
Ivy sat still.
The attic felt like a memory now.
A place where love had once been wild and unguarded.
Nia's voice was soft.
"Orie and Ernest didn't fall in love easily. The court didn't want it. She was too wild. He was too gentle. They said it would unravel the line."
Orie snorted.
"They said I was too dominant. Too bossy. Too dangerous."
Nia smiled.
"And you were."
Orie's voice softened.
"But Ernest saw through it. He saw the girl who stitched her first spell at seven. Who protected the weak. Who challenged the elders."
Nia added:
"He fought for her. Through council votes. Through assassination attempts. Through a duel that nearly broke the seal."
Ivy gasped.
"A duel?"
Orie nodded.
"Against Zeyn's uncle. The one who wanted the throne."
Nia continued:
"When they finally married, the court shifted. Magic bent. The threads realigned."
Orie smiled faintly.
"And then we helped you marry Jaspher."
Nia's eyes shimmered.
"He was quiet. Loyal. Brilliant. He stitched protection spells into my sleeves. He never asked for power. Just a place beside me."
Ivy whispered:
"You were all together?"
Orie nodded.
"For a while. We ruled. We stitched peace. We sealed the threadsbound magic that had corrupted the lower courts."
Ivy leaned forward.
"What was it?"
The book spirit spoke.
"Magic that fed on grief. On forgotten vows. On broken bonds. It stitched itself into the cracks of the court."
Orie's voice dropped.
"We sealed it. Ernest and I. With Nia's help. With Jaspher's casting."
Nia added:
"But it had a price."
Ivy's breath caught.
"What price?"
Orie looked at her.
"Memory. Emotion. The seal fed on what we loved most."
Nia's voice cracked.
"Ernest forgot the warmth. Jaspher forgot the laughter. I forgot the sound of my own name when he said it."
Ivy whispered.
"And you?"
Orie's eyes shimmered.
"I forgot what it felt like to be just Orie. Not Empress. Not protector. Just… me."
Silence.
The attic pulsed.
And Ivy felt the weight of every thread stitched before her.
Nia smiled, her voice soft with memory.
"After the seal, we had peace. For a while. Orie and Ernest had Tieran first. He was all fire and silence. Always watching. Always thinking."
Orie added, a rare fondness in her voice.
"He was born during a storm. The sky cracked open the moment he cried. The court said it was an omen. I said it was just Tieran being dramatic."
Nia laughed.
"And then, six years later, I had you."
Ivy blinked.
"Me?"
Nia nodded.
"You were born in the threadhall. Right on the sigil floor. You screamed so loud, the ink lifted off the walls."
Orie smirked.
"We joked about it for years. Said you and Tieran were destined to marry. That you'd rule together. That you'd balance each other."
Ivy's face flushed.
"You what?"
Nia chuckled.
"You were inseparable as toddlers. He used to braid your hair with spellthread. You used to steal his casting rings and hide them in the garden."
Orie added, teasingly.
"He cried for three days when you bit him."
Ivy groaned.
"Oh stars."
Nia's smile faded slightly.
"But it wasn't just the two of you."
Orie's voice turned quiet.
"We adopted another. A boy named Zeyn."
Ivy's brow furrowed.
"Zeyn? That Zeyn?"
Nia nodded.
"His mother, Iva, was a healer. She came to the court after her village was burned in the border raids. She had nothing. Just him."
Orie spoke carefully.
"We took them in. Out of pity. Out of hope. We thought… maybe love could unmake what war had done."
Nia added.
"Zeyn was quiet. Polite. Too polite. He watched everything. Learned quickly. But there was always something… coiled beneath."
Orie's voice was low.
"He wanted to belong. But he didn't want to share. Not the court. Not the magic. Not us."
Ivy whispered.
"And now he wants the seal."
The book spirit stirred.
"He doesn't just want it. He wants to unmake it. To unravel what you are."
Ivy looked at them all.
Her mother.
Her aunt.
The boy she once bit.
The book that remembered.
And the storm that had been waiting all along.
Nia's voice trembled.
"We didn't see it at first. Iva was quiet. Grateful. She healed the wounded. She smiled at the council. She played the part."
Orie added, her voice low.
"But she was stitching something beneath it all. Bitwitching court officials. Twisting Ernest's judgment. Turning whispers into commands."
Ivy frowned.
"Bitwitching?"
The book spirit spoke.
"Threadbinding through emotion. A forbidden cast. It doesn't break minds—it bends them."
Nia nodded.
"She bent Ernest. Slowly. Gently. Until he stopped listening to me. Until he questioned Orie's decisions."
Orie's voice cracked.
"She almost tore us apart."
Nia whispered.
"She tried to lock us in a dimensional seal. A prison stitched outside time."
Ivy gasped.
"Why?"
Orie looked at her.
"For the Mystic Mellow."
The book spirit stirred.
"A magic array. Ancient. Left by Orie's ancestors. It doesn't cast spells—it commands minds. Whoever masters it can rewrite thought."
Ivy's breath caught.
"She wanted to rule."
Nia nodded.
"She wanted the world to kneel. Not through war. Through will."
Orie added.
"When danger came, I handed the array to Nia. I knew she'd protect it."
Nia's voice dropped.
"But Iva was ready. She accused Orie of illegal casting. Of murder. She stitched the charges so tightly, even Ernest couldn't unravel them."
Ivy whispered.
"What did Dad do?"
Orie's eyes shimmered.
"He unraveled himself."
Ivy blinked.
"What does that mean?"
The book spirit answered.
"He broke his own thread. Voluntarily. To cast a protection seal. To keep Nia and Orie alive. It cost him everything."
Nia's voice cracked.
"He was sealed. Forcefully. But before that, I planted the Mystic Mellow inside you."
Ivy froze.
"What? So the memories I saw in the cave were really true "
Orie nodded.
"You were five. You wouldn't remember. But we had no choice."
Nia added.
"We handed you to Elian. A close relative of Jaspher. Your old master. She kept you hidden. Trained you. Protected you."
Ivy sat still.
The attic pulsed.
The thread trembled.
And the storm that had once been distant was now stitched into her skin.
The attic was still.
The book spirit faded into the background.
Nia and Orie sat quiet, their story told.
And Tieran finally spoke.
His voice was low.
"I protected her. Ivy. Behind the scenes. For years."
Ivy blinked.
"You did?"
Tieran nodded.
"After you were handed to Elian, I kept watch. Through sigil traces. Through casting echoes. I made sure no one could track the seal."
Nia whispered.
"You never told us."
Tieran looked at her.
"I didn't want you to know. If I failed, I didn't want it to cost you more."
Orie's eyes shimmered.
"You were just a boy."
Tieran's voice darkened.
"I was the Crown Prince. I had power. I had duty. And I had a father who still believed in the vow."
Ivy leaned forward.
"The Emperor?"
Tieran nodded.
"We tried to find a way to unseal you both. To undo what Iva had stitched. But she was careful. She poisoned him. Slowly. Bit by bit."
Nia gasped.
"She poisoned Ernest?"
Tieran's jaw clenched.
"And me. Not enough to kill. Just enough to dull. To confuse. To make us forget what mattered."
Tieran added.
"A year ago. I thought I could find allies. Cast a counter-seal. But while I was gone…"
The book spirit stirred.
"Zeyn moved."
Tieran's voice dropped.
"He hypnotized my father. Used the bitwitching threads. Made him sign a decree against me."
Nia's voice cracked.
"He assassinated Ernest?"
Tieran nodded.
"Not with blades. With betrayal. With magic that twists the mind."
Tieran's eyes burned.
"He cast me out as a traitor. But he's still out there. Still powerful. Still casting."
The book spirit whispered.
"He intends to kill. To unravel. To claim the Mystic Mellow."
Ivy's breath caught.
"And I'm stitched to it."
Tieran looked at her.
"You're more than stitched. You are the seal now."
Silence.The attic pulsed.
And Ivy felt the storm rising inside her.