Thalia woke to the faint scent of cold flowers.
The fragrance was light, as though it came from something that bloomed only at night.
It wasn’t unpleasant, but for some reason, it reminded her of a graveyard after midnight, when moonlight fell across weathered headstones and left the stone washed in a pale glow.
Her thoughts were still hazy.
Her eyelids felt heavy, and her body was so cold that it seemed as though she had been submerged in freezing seawater for hours.
Even her fingertips carried a lingering chill.
It took her a while to finally open her eyes.
Instead of the familiar ceiling of her room, she found herself staring up at a vast black ceiling she had never seen before.
Countless fragments of silver crystal were embedded in its surface, giving off a faint glow in the darkness.
From where she lay, it looked almost as though someone had brought the night sky into the palace and sealed its stars beneath the earth.
Pale blue flames floated silently between the stone pillars.
There were no wicks, no lamps, and nothing that should have allowed them to burn, yet the flames remained steady.
Their blue light spread across the black walls, revealing ancient carvings etched into the stone.
There were boats carrying souls, a dark river, wandering spirits, and a lone figure standing at the far end of the shore.
Under the shifting light, the scenes seemed strangely lifelike.
Thalia stared at them for a moment before the events of the previous night slowly returned to her.
She remembered the coast at midnight, the fog growing thicker over the sea, and the distant tolling of a bell somewhere beyond the mist.
She had gone there to examine an unidentified artifact, but while handling it, she had accidentally cut her finger.
The moment her blood touched the object, a massive black stone gate had appeared over the calm surface of the sea.
Then everything had gone wrong.
The water began to churn, and countless pale hands reached up from beneath the surface, grabbing her ankles and dragging her down.
She had struggled desperately, but nothing she did could loosen their grip.
Cold seawater had covered her mouth and nose, and the pain in her chest had grown unbearable as she fought for air.
Just before she lost consciousness, the black stone gate had opened.
A man had been standing beyond it.
Thalia couldn’t remember how clearly she had seen him, but she still remembered his silver-black hair and the pair of dark golden eyes that had stood out sharply against the darkness.
He was also the one who had pulled her from the sea.
At the thought, Thalia sat up quickly and pressed a hand against her chest.
Her heart was beating faster than usual, but it was strong and steady beneath her palm.
She touched her face and neck next, making sure her skin was still warm and that she was breathing normally before finally allowing herself to relax a little.
“I’m not dead?”
Her voice was slightly hoarse after waking, and in the silence of the chamber, it sounded unusually clear.
No one answered.
Thalia took the opportunity to look around properly.
She was sitting on an enormous black bed framed by four obsidian pillars.
Dark golden vines and blooming pomegranate flowers had been carved into the stone, while layers of black gauze hung from above, hiding much of the bed from view.
Every so often, a breeze from somewhere in the chamber stirred the curtains gently.
The bedding was unbelievably soft, but there was a coldness to it that made the entire place feel unlike any human residence she had ever known.
This was obviously not the Leandros home, nor was it the antiquities gallery.
Thalia pulled back the blanket and was about to get out of bed when she suddenly stopped.
She looked down at herself, and her brows slowly drew together.
The dress she had worn the previous night, soaked through with seawater, was gone.
In its place was an unfamiliar black gown that fit her perfectly.
A thin dark-gold chain rested around her waist, while silver pomegranate blossoms were embroidered across the skirt, catching the blue firelight whenever she moved.
Thalia stared at the dress for several seconds before a much more important question occurred to her.
“Who changed my clothes?”
She immediately looked around.
There was no one behind the black curtains, and the rest of the spacious chamber was equally quiet.
After watching the shadows for a while and making sure she really was alone, Thalia finally looked down again.
That was when she noticed the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.
It was made of black obsidian.
Thalia froze.
It was the same artifact she had examined the previous night.
She clearly remembered that she had never put it on, which meant there was no reason for it to be on her finger now.
She grabbed the ring and tried to pull it off, but it didn’t move.
Frowning, she tried again with more force.
The result was exactly the same.
The ring seemed to fit so perfectly that it felt less like something she had recently put on and more like something that had always belonged there.
“What’s going on…?”
She touched the surface of the ring with her fingertip.
A sudden heat shot through her finger.
Thalia flinched and immediately pulled her hand away.
The burning sensation disappeared just as quickly, and within moments, the obsidian had returned to its previous coldness.
She decided not to touch it again.
Thalia had grown up around ancient objects.
The Leandros family owned an antiquities gallery, and her father, Damon, had once worked as an archaeologist.
Because of him, she had been surrounded by old relics and artifacts since childhood, and she was now learning restoration from her older brother, Ivan.
There was, however, one thing that made her different from an ordinary restorer.
Sometimes, when she touched an object with a particularly strong connection to someone who had died, she could hear voices that should no longer exist.
They were usually brief.
Sometimes she heard a name, sometimes a sigh, and sometimes the final words someone had spoken before death.
Thalia had never understood where the ability came from, and her family had always avoided discussing it.
Whenever she tried to ask, they only warned her never to answer those voices.
The obsidian ring, however, was different from every artifact she had encountered before.
It was completely silent.
After everything that had happened the previous night, she had expected something from it, yet there was nothing at all.
Thalia studied the ring for another moment before deciding to leave it alone for now.
She pushed aside the black curtains and stepped barefoot onto the obsidian floor.
The cold stone sent a chill through her feet, making her curl her toes instinctively.
A black stone table stood near the center of the chamber, and the things she had brought with her the previous night had been placed neatly on top of it.
Thalia walked over but didn’t touch them immediately.
At first glance, nothing seemed to have changed, but she knew very well that everything strange about the previous night had begun after she touched that artifact.
She was about to examine it more closely when a heavy sound came from the far end of the chamber.
Thalia turned at once.
Two enormous black stone doors slowly opened inward, and six women in gray dresses entered with their heads lowered.
Their faces were unusually pale, and their dark hair had been arranged neatly behind their heads.
They moved so quietly that their footsteps were almost impossible to hear.
If Thalia hadn’t been looking directly at the doors, she might not even have noticed that several people had entered the chamber.
A silver-haired woman walked at the front.
She appeared to be in her thirties and was tall and composed, dressed in a dark gray robe embroidered with delicate silver serpents around the collar and cuffs.
She carried a golden tray in both hands.
Resting in the center was an obsidian crown.
When she saw that Thalia was awake, the silver-haired woman stopped and bowed slightly.
“You are finally awake, my Queen.”
The six attendants behind her immediately knelt.
“Welcome, Your Majesty.”
Thalia frowned.
It was that title again.
The souls that had reached for her from the sea the previous night had called her something similar, yet she had never been married and certainly didn’t know any king of the Underworld.
“You have the wrong person.”
The silver-haired woman slowly raised her head, her expression remaining calm.
“Thalia Leandros, nineteen years old, born in the port of Vilos.
Your mother is Ianthe Leandros and your father is Damon Leandros.
You live with your elder brother, Ivan, and are currently learning artifact restoration at the Leandros Antiquities Gallery.”
Thalia’s expression gradually changed.
Every detail was correct.
These people not only knew who she was, but also knew her family and what she was currently doing.
“You investigated me?”
“The Underworld has no need to investigate mortals,” the woman replied calmly.
“Every mortal’s birth, death, and final destination is recorded in the Registry of Souls.”
Thalia was silent for a moment before asking, “What about mine?”
The woman looked at her.
“Yours is different.”
“How?”
“Nineteen years ago, your name became bound to a covenant with the royal house of the Underworld.”
Nineteen years ago.
That was the year Thalia had been born.
Her gaze immediately dropped to the obsidian ring on her left hand.
“What does that mean?”
The silver-haired woman’s eyes followed hers.
“When you were born, your soul was incomplete.
According to the fate originally written for you, you would not have survived your first night.”
Thalia stared at her in surprise.
“My mother knew?”
“She did.”
After a brief pause, the woman continued, “To save your life, your mother sought the help of the King of the Underworld.
His Majesty used a fragment of his own divine soul to restore what yours lacked.
The obsidian ring on your hand is the token left behind by that covenant.”
Thalia lowered her eyes to the ring and fell silent.
Her family had always said very little about what had happened when she was born.
She only knew that she had been weak and sickly as a child, and that her mother rarely spoke about those years.
No one had ever told her that her survival had anything to do with the Underworld.
They had certainly never mentioned this ring.
“So because of that covenant, you’ve decided I’m your queen?”
The silver-haired woman did not deny it.
Instead, she looked down at the obsidian crown on the tray.
“The covenant has awakened.
To complete the final rite, you need only wear the crown.”
Thalia followed her gaze.
The crown was beautifully carved from black obsidian, with a dark red gemstone set in its center.
She looked at it for a few seconds before turning her eyes away.
“No.”
The silver-haired woman didn’t seem surprised, nor did she order any of the attendants to approach.
“Then you may tell His Majesty yourself.”
Thalia looked at her.
“Where is he?”
“Here.”
A low male voice came from the other side of the chamber.
Thalia turned immediately.
A tall figure stood behind the black curtains, though she had no idea when he had arrived.
The man slowly stepped out of the shadows.
As he did, the pale blue flames between the stone pillars flickered gently.
Thalia recognized him at once.
He was the man who had pulled her from the sea.
His silver-black hair fell down his back, and his black robes were decorated only with simple dark-gold patterns.
There was something quiet and distant about him, but what Thalia remembered most clearly were his eyes.
Dark gold.
Exactly as she remembered them.
Perhaps that was why she had managed to remember him at all despite being barely conscious at the time.
The silver-haired woman and the attendants lowered their heads together.
“Your Majesty.”
The man didn’t look at them.
Instead, he walked directly toward Thalia and stopped a few steps away.
“Acheron Vesper,” he said in a low, even voice.
“Ruler of the Underworld, and the one bound to you by the covenant.”
Thalia looked at him, but the first thing she asked had nothing to do with the covenant.
“Were you the one who saved me last night?”
“Yes.”
“Why were those souls trying to drag me into the sea?”
“They wanted to use your body to leave the Underworld.”
Thalia remembered the countless pale hands reaching for her beneath the water, and her expression tightened slightly.
“Then why did the gate open?”
Acheron’s gaze moved to the obsidian ring on her left hand.
“Because your blood awakened the covenant.”
Thalia glanced down at it as well.
“Then how do I get home?”
“The Obsidian Gate has already closed.”
“Can it be opened again?”
“Only the King and Queen of the Underworld can open it.”
Hearing that, Thalia slowly looked toward the obsidian crown resting on the golden tray.
She understood what he meant.
“So I have to become your queen first?”
“Completing the covenant would be the fastest way.”
“And if I refuse?”
Acheron watched her quietly for a moment before answering.
“I will find another way to return you to the mortal world.”
Thalia was slightly surprised.
She had expected him to tell her she had no choice, but he didn’t seem interested in forcing her to accept the covenant.
Still, that didn’t change her current situation.
Until another way could be found, she was clearly going to be stuck here.
After thinking for a moment, Thalia asked another question.
“You knew about me nineteen years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you never appear?”
Acheron was silent for a moment before replying, “I cannot enter the mortal world freely.”
Thalia looked at him.
“So you knew where I was all this time?”
“Yes.”
“And you were waiting?”
His dark golden eyes rested on her face.
“For nineteen years.”
Thalia didn’t know how to respond.
For her, everything had begun only the previous night, but for the man standing in front of her, this covenant had existed for her entire life.
Acheron didn’t explain further.
Instead, his gaze lowered to her bare feet before he raised one hand.
A black cloak settled gently around Thalia’s shoulders.
It carried the same faint, cold floral scent she had noticed when she first woke.
“The Underworld is colder than the mortal world.”
Thalia looked down at the cloak.
When she raised her head again, Acheron had already turned to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“There are matters I need to deal with.”
“What about me?”
“Stay here.”
Thalia frowned.
“I’m not allowed to leave?”
Acheron stopped and looked back at her.
“For now, it would be better if you didn’t.”
With that, he left the chamber.
The enormous black stone doors slowly closed behind him until the last narrow gap disappeared, leaving the chamber quiet once again.
Thalia remained where she was, staring at the closed doors before lowering her eyes to the black cloak around her shoulders.
A covenant made nineteen years ago, a mother who had once asked the King of the Underworld to save her daughter, and a man who claimed he had been waiting for her all those years.
Her head was full of questions, but Acheron clearly had no intention of answering all of them at once.
And he expected her to stay here quietly without asking anything else?
Thalia raised an eyebrow.
“Not a chance.”
She turned and walked back toward the stone table.
She had only taken two steps when she stopped.
A very faint voice had suddenly come from the artifact resting on the table.
“Sister…”
Thalia’s expression changed.
She knew that feeling.
It was the voice of the dead.
She didn’t reach for the artifact and simply stood where she was, listening carefully.
A moment later, the little girl’s voice came again.
“He’s lying to you…”
Thalia frowned.
The voice was weak and indistinct, as though it were reaching her from somewhere far away.
“Twelve years ago…
the one who killed me…”
There was a brief pause before the little girl finally finished.
“…is inside this palace.”
Thalia remained still.
She looked down at the artifact on the table, and the small amount of ease she had felt after speaking with Acheron slowly faded.
Her expression grew serious once more.