A Summons Written in Shadow
The summons arrived before dawn—though dawn was a word Noctyrrh no longer remembered.
A blade of black metal slid across the stone floor of Lumi's assigned chamber, stopping just short of her boots. It unfolded itself with a hiss, reshaping into a thin tablet etched with glowing runes. Shadow-magic. Royal.
Lumi did not touch it immediately.
At twenty-two, she had learned caution the hard way. Objects could lie just as easily as people, and in Noctyrrh, lies were often bait.
When she finally reached for the tablet, pain bloomed behind her eyes.
Urgency, the truth whispered. Fear. Command.
She exhaled slowly as the runes rearranged themselves into words.
You are summoned to the Prince's side. Now.
No signature was needed. There was only one prince who issued commands that sounded like inevitability.
Blake Crowe.
Lumi pressed the tablet flat, and it dissolved into smoke that clung briefly to her fingers before vanishing. Her heart beat too fast for someone who prided herself on restraint.
She had felt him yesterday—his fear, sharp and buried deep—and the memory of it unsettled her more than any threat. Fear made men unpredictable. Fear in a prince could shatter kingdoms.
The corridors of the Obsidian Court stretched endlessly, lit by braziers that burned with cold blue flame. Shadows moved independently of their sources, trailing after her like curious things. Lumi ignored them, focusing instead on controlling her breathing.
Truth stirred with every step.
The prince's solar lay at the highest spire, where the night pressed closest to the glassless windows. Two guards stepped aside as she approached, their eyes avoiding hers. Even those trained to kill did not like standing too close to a Truth Bearer.
Inside, Blake Crowe stood alone.
He was not wearing his armor now. Instead, he was dressed in dark court clothing, the sharp lines softened just enough to make him look dangerously human. At twenty-six, the weight of rule sat on him like a second skin, unseen but undeniable.
He turned as the door sealed behind her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence stretched, thick with things unsaid. Lumi felt the pull of his presence again—not pain, not pressure, but something disturbingly calm. The truth inside her did not scream around him. It only watched.
"You felt it too," Blake said finally.
She lifted her gaze. "The court?"
"The shift," he corrected. "They are moving against me faster than anticipated."
That was truth. It settled in her chest without resistance.
Blake stepped closer, stopping at a careful distance. "I need you," he said, then paused, as if choosing his next words with a blade held to his throat. "Not as a weapon. As a shield."
Lumi's pulse stuttered.
"A false consort may buy you time," she said quietly. "But lies rot. They always do."
His mouth curved—not quite a smile. "Then we will rot carefully."
The honesty of it startled her.
He extended his hand, palm up. A formal gesture. Binding without blood—for now.
"If you accept," Blake said, his voice lower, "there will be no safe ground between us. The court will watch every breath you take. And when this ends…"
"When it ends," Lumi finished, feeling the truth coil tight inside her, "someone will bleed."
Their eyes met.
"Yes," he said.
Lumi placed her hand in his.
The shadows along the walls shuddered, as if the realm itself had felt the lie take root.
Far above them, the eternal night listened—and began to write their names into its memory.