Chapter 36 #3
Valet doesn’t wait to see if I follow. The carved doors swing inward before he reaches them.
Beyond them, the room stretches unlike any other room in the estate.
The walls are black stone instead of marble.
In this room, there are no paintings or sculptures.
Only banners hanging between towering columns. Seven of them.
Each is stitched entirely by hand. Each bearing a different crest.
A wolf.
A lion.
A dragon.
A raven.
A serpent.
A stag.
A bear.
My footsteps echo across polished obsidian beneath my boots.
“This wing predates the estate.” Valet’s voice carries effortlessly. “When this house was built, these walls were left untouched.”
“Why?”
“They’re older than House Devereaux.”
That catches my attention. “I thought your family built this place.”
“We expanded it.” He brushes his fingertips across one of the stone columns. “This hall was already standing.”
“Who built it?”
Valet smiles. “The first Crown.”
We continue walking as I try to piece together all the information he is throwing at me.
At the end of the hallway another pair of doors. Unlike the others, these are not carved but forged. Black steel reinforced with bronze. The wolf crest dominates the center. Seven smaller crests surround it in a circle.
Two guards step forward simultaneously. Each places a hand against the door. Heavy bolts slide somewhere deep within the stone. The sound reverberates through the walls.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then the doors begin to open. Slowly. The room beyond is circular. My eyes instinctively search for exits, and there are none. There is only one entrance.
One way in.
One way out.
A domed ceiling disappears nearly sixty feet overhead. Constellations have been painted across it in gold leaf. The floor is inlaid with black marble, forming an enormous wolf encircled by seven crowns.
At the center... A round table with seven chairs surrounds it.
Each is carved differently. The chair beneath the wolf banner is larger than the others.
Its back rises nearly eight feet into the air.
Intricate wolves run through the wood. Their eyes are formed from amber.
The remaining six chairs face it equally.
“What is this?”
Valet circles the table slowly. “The Council Chamber.”
My eyes remain fixed on the empty chair. He follows my gaze. For the first time tonight, his composure slips.
Pride.
Sadness.
Hope.
All expressions cross his face at once.
“That”—his voice lowers—“has been yours since the day you were born.”
I look at the chair, then back at him. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
He walks toward one wall where portraits hang instead of banners. Seven portraits. Each depicts a man or woman seated in one of the seven chairs. Every generation and century. My eyes stop at the final portrait, which is unfinished.
Only six figures have been painted. The seventh chair...is empty.
“For eighteen years,” Valet says quietly. “Our painters refused to complete it.”
“Why?”
“Because no one else could sit there.”
The answer hangs in the air.
“The Crown Families have rules.”
He begins walking around the table. “Blood cannot be replaced, and the firstborn inherits.”
“The seat remains empty until the heir claims it?” I ask.
“Or dies.”
I glance toward the unfinished painting. “They expected me to die?”
“No.” Valet’s eyes meet mine. “They expected me to find you and bring you home.”
A grandfather clock somewhere beyond the chamber strikes three. Everything tonight seems to move in threes. Three slow chimes. Three years. Three Phantoms. Three in the morning.
Valet rests one hand on the back of the wolf chair. “I’ve sat here for eighteen years.” He pauses. “Not because it belongs to me.” He looks at me. “Because I was waiting.”
The words hit harder than anything he’s said all evening. “I don’t know these people.”
“You don’t.”
“I don’t know this family.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t know you,” I point out.
Valet nods once. “I know, and you have every reason to doubt me.” He steps away from the chair. “No one will ask you to swear loyalty tonight, and no one will ask you to forgive me or to accept this name.”
He gestures toward the seat. “But before this night ends, I need you to understand one thing.”
My eyes remain on him.
“The Order spent years convincing you that you were nothing.” His gaze shifts toward the empty chair. “There is one thing they could never allow you to know.”
A long silence fills the chamber as I listen to the words from a man who helped create me.
“You were never nothing.”
The room feels impossibly still as it all sinks in. Valen knew. It is why he said the Order wasn’t aware that I had anything.
Valet takes one final step backward, and the distance between us grows, leaving only me and the empty chair.
I stare at the crest carved into its back, then at the wolves frozen in wood. For the first time in my life, I understand why men were willing to kill my mother.
She wasn’t protecting me from one man. She was protecting me from an empire.
“I need you to also understand one thing after today.”
“And what is that?” I ask.
“Don’t tell anyone your real name.”
“Why is that?”
“You’ll be the reason there’s a war.”
Which means it will involve everyone, including the men I call brothers.