The first thing Evelyn noticed when she woke was the silence.
It was not the peaceful kind.
The mansion had always possessed a particular rhythm during the early hours of the morning.
Servants moved through the lower corridors preparing breakfast.
Guards changed shifts at the entrances.
Somewhere in the distance, someone usually opened the heavy curtains in the eastern wing, allowing the first light of dawn to spill across the marble floors.
That morning, there was nothing.
No footsteps.
No clinking dishes.
No distant voices.
Evelyn remained still beneath the blankets, staring at the ceiling.
For several seconds, she couldn’t understand what had awakened her.
Then she heard it.
A muffled sound from somewhere beyond her bedroom.
A metallic crash.
Followed by a scream.
Evelyn sat upright.
Her heart began beating faster.
She didn’t have time to think.
The bedroom door opened violently.
Lucien entered.
He was already dressed, his dark hair slightly disheveled and his sword drawn.
There was a shallow cut across his cheek, and the sleeve of his shirt was stained with blood.
“Evelyn.”
She immediately got out of bed.
“What happened?”
“Get dressed.”
“What happened?”
“Someone entered the eastern wing.”
His tone was controlled, but there was something beneath it that made her stop asking questions.
“Are we under attack?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Evelyn grabbed the first dress within reach.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are the servants safe?”
“Some.”
“And the guards?”
Lucien’s jaw tightened.
“Some aren’t.”
She didn’t need to ask what that meant.
She hurriedly fastened her dress while Lucien stood near the door, listening to the sounds outside.
Another crash came from the corridor.
This time, much closer.
Lucien turned.
“Stay behind me.”
Evelyn picked up the small dagger she kept inside the drawer beside her bed.
He looked at it.
“That won’t help much.”
“It makes me feel better.”
“Then keep it.”
They stepped into the corridor.
The mansion looked nothing like it had the night before.
A servant was crying near the staircase.
Two guards were carrying an injured man toward the infirmary.
The smell of smoke hung in the air.
Evelyn’s eyes immediately moved toward the eastern corridor.
Part of the ceiling had collapsed.
“Fire?”
“Controlled,” Lucien said.
She frowned.
“Controlled?”
“The fire was deliberately started.”
“Why would they start a fire if they weren’t trying to burn the mansion?”
Lucien didn’t answer.
Evelyn followed his gaze.
The library.
Her stomach sank.
They hurried toward it.
The doors were open.
The room beyond looked as though a storm had passed through it.
Books had been thrown from the shelves.
Documents covered the floor.
A cabinet had been broken apart.
The desk was overturned.
Evelyn stood in the doorway.
For a moment, she couldn’t move.
Everything they had collected during the last few days was there.
The letters from Marian Voss.
The documents from the Arclight estate.
The notes Lucien’s father had left behind.
Evidence that could potentially explain why the imperial court had spent decades hiding the truth.
And the book.
Evelyn immediately looked toward the table.
Empty.
“The book.”
Lucien’s eyes followed hers.
“It was here.”
“Yes.”
“It isn’t anymore.”
She stepped into the room.
Her eyes moved across the destruction.
Nothing had been taken randomly.
The ordinary books remained.
The expensive decorations remained.
The silver ink holder remained.
Even the locked drawer containing Lucien’s personal correspondence had not been touched.
Only certain documents were missing.
And the book.
Evelyn crouched beside the desk.
“Look.”
Lucien approached.
She pointed to the floor.
There were footprints.
Several sets.
Most belonged to boots.
But one was different.
Smaller.
The heel barely touched the ground.
Evelyn touched the edge of the imprint.
“Someone came through the window.”
Lucien glanced toward it.
The window was open.
“There are no guards beneath it.”
“That’s because they didn’t enter from outside.”
She looked around.
“They wanted us to think they did.”
Lucien’s expression became colder.
“You think someone inside the mansion helped them.”
“I don’t think.”
She stood.
“I know.”
He didn’t argue.
That was almost worse.
Evelyn walked toward the shelves.
One section had been disturbed.
She touched the books.
A faint layer of dust remained everywhere except along one narrow space.
Something had been removed recently.
“What was here?”
Lucien looked.
“Nothing important.”
She turned.
“How do you know?”
“Because I put those books there.”
“Then what was behind them?”
He was silent.
Evelyn stared at him.
“Lucien.”
“A ledger.”
“What kind?”
“My father’s.”
Her expression changed.
“You didn’t tell me about it.”
“I didn’t know it was here.”
“You just said you put the books there.”
“I did.”
“Then how did you not know?”
Lucien looked toward the empty space.
“Because my father taught me never to trust a hidden room twice.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
He moved the remaining books.
Behind them was a narrow compartment.
Empty.
Evelyn felt a chill.
“They knew.”
“Yes.”
“They knew about the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“They knew about the book.”
“Yes.”
“And they knew exactly when to come.”
Lucien’s expression hardened.
“Which means whoever ordered this has been watching us.”
Evelyn stood silently.
The realization was worse than the attack itself.
They had been careful.
They hadn’t told anyone about the book.
Only a handful of people knew about the documents.
Their route to the capital had been kept secret.
Even the decision to investigate the Arclight estate had been discussed privately.
Someone had access to information they should never have possessed.
Someone close to them.
Evelyn suddenly remembered the message from the previous night.
Trust no one.
She almost laughed.
It seemed that whoever had written it had known exactly what was coming.
Lucien noticed her expression.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Evelyn.”
She looked at him.
“Someone warned me.”
“When?”
“Before the attack.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did they say?”
She hesitated.
“That I shouldn’t trust anyone.”
Lucien’s gaze became sharper.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know whether I could trust you.”
He went silent.
Evelyn immediately regretted the words.
Not because they weren’t true.
But because of the way he looked at her.
She had become accustomed to Lucien’s controlled expressions.
He rarely showed anger openly.
Even when furious, his voice became quieter rather than louder.
This time, something else appeared.
Disappointment.
“I understand,” he said.
She frowned.
“Lucien—”
“No.”
He turned away.
“I understand.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
He began walking toward the door.
Evelyn caught his arm.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
She released him almost immediately.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Of everyone.”
He looked at her.
Then his expression softened slightly.
“That’s different.”
Evelyn swallowed.
“I don’t know who is behind this.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then we need to assume everyone could be involved.”
Lucien nodded.
“Agreed.”
She exhaled.
The tension between them eased.
Not completely.
But enough.
“How many people knew about the documents?” she asked.
“Four.”
“Who?”
“Myself.”
“You.”
“Adrian.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed.
“Why would the Crown Prince know?”
“Because he gave us the key to the old prison.”
“And the fourth?”
Lucien hesitated.
“My steward.”
“Name?”
“Edmund.”
Evelyn remembered him.
Edmund had worked for the Valemont family for nearly twenty years.
He was quiet, efficient and almost invisible.
He was also one of the few people who could move through the mansion without anyone questioning him.
Lucien seemed to reach the same conclusion.
“We’ll investigate him.”
“Quietly.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t accuse him.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Evelyn looked toward the destroyed library.
“What about the others?”
“We’ll have to determine who else could have known.”
“That includes Adrian.”
Lucien nodded.
“I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I.”
“But you met with him alone.”
Evelyn sighed.
“I know.”
“What did he tell you?”
She looked at him.
For a moment, she considered hiding it.
Then she remembered the conversation they’d just had.
“No more secrets.”
Lucien waited.
Evelyn told him everything.
About Adrian remembering previous lives.
About the three timelines.
About her death.
About the possibility that Lucien had repeatedly become the villain.
She told him about Marian.
The old secretary.
The imperial prison.
The First Crown.
She told him about Adrian’s warning.
When she finished, Lucien remained silent for several seconds.
“Three lives.”
“That’s what he said.”
“And in all three…”
“You became the villain.”
He looked toward the broken window.
“How?”
“You killed the emperor.”
“Why?”
“Vengeance.”
Lucien laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“That sounds like me.”
Evelyn’s expression tightened.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“It does.”
“You’ve had reasons to hate the empire.”
“Yes.”
“But you haven’t killed anyone.”
“Not yet.”
The words disturbed her.
She stepped closer.
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because you’re not him.”
Lucien looked at her for a long time.
“You say that as though you know me.”
“I do.”
“You’ve known me for months.”
“Long enough.”
He almost smiled.
“That’s not very convincing.”
“It is to me.”
Silence settled between them.
Then Lucien said:
“Thank you.”
She blinked.
“For what?”
“For telling me.”
Evelyn nodded.
They didn’t speak about it again.
Instead, they began searching the mansion.
The investigation lasted until midday.
Edmund was nowhere to be found.
That was the first problem.
The second was that three guards had disappeared.
The third was that one of the surviving servants claimed to have seen someone wearing Lucien’s personal crest leaving the library shortly before the attack.
Lucien’s expression darkened.
“My crest?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The young maid bowed nervously.
“It was on a ring.”
“Did you see the person’s face?”
“No.”
“Man or woman?”
“I don’t know.”
Evelyn intervened.
“Did they walk normally?”
The maid looked confused.
“What?”
“Were they injured?”
“No.”
“Did they limp?”
The maid thought.
“Yes.”
“Which leg?”
“The left.”
Evelyn turned toward Lucien.
“Edmund.”
Lucien nodded.
The steward had injured his left leg several months earlier.
But that didn’t prove anything.
They found him twenty minutes later.
He was in the servants’ quarters.
His leg was wrapped in a bandage.
He looked genuinely confused when Lucien entered.
“Your Grace?”
“Where were you?”
“Here.”
“Why?”
“I heard there was an attack.”
“You didn’t go to the eastern wing?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Edmund looked at him.
“I was ordered not to.”
“By whom?”
The old steward hesitated.
“By Lady Evelyn.”
Evelyn frowned.
“I never told you that.”
Edmund looked at her.
“You did.”
“When?”
“Yesterday evening.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“I wasn’t here yesterday evening.”
Edmund’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Lucien noticed.
Evelyn noticed too.
“You are lying.”
Edmund stepped backward.
“Your Grace, I—”
Lucien drew his sword.
“Who gave you the order?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know!”
His voice cracked.
Then the window behind him shattered.
An arrow flew through the room.
Edmund fell.
Evelyn screamed.
Lucien moved instantly.
He dragged her behind the wall as another arrow struck the door.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“I’m coming.”
She followed him as they ran toward the courtyard.
The attacker was already gone.
Only a black feather remained on the windowsill.
Evelyn picked it up.
“Black Order.”
Lucien looked at Edmund’s body.
“He was supposed to die.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“The assassin didn’t shoot him to silence him.”
“What, then?”
Lucien crouched.
He examined the arrow.
“Poison.”
Evelyn’s stomach tightened.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
Lucien looked at the arrow.
“Because they wanted us to think he was the traitor.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened.
“Someone wants us to suspect him.”
“Exactly.”
She looked around the room.
“Then the real traitor is still here.”
Lucien stood.
“Yes.”
“And they know we suspect them.”
“Probably.”
Evelyn stared at the black feather.
The attack had been carefully planned.
The library.
The book.
The ledger.
Edmund.
The false evidence.
Someone wasn’t simply trying to kill them.
Someone was controlling the investigation.
That was far more dangerous.
That night, Lucien ordered the mansion sealed.
No one entered.
No one left.
Every servant was questioned.
Every guard was searched.
Every room was inspected.
Nothing.
No hidden weapons.
No secret letters.
No suspicious objects.
Nothing.
Evelyn sat in the library surrounded by the remains of the destroyed shelves.
Lucien entered after midnight.
She looked up.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Edmund?”
“Alive.”
“Did he tell you anything?”
“No.”
She sighed.
Lucien sat beside her.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Evelyn asked:
“Do you regret bringing me into this?”
He looked at her.
“Into what?”
“This.”
She gestured toward the ruined room.
“The investigation. The Crown. Your father’s death. Everything.”
“No.”
“You answered very quickly.”
“Because the answer is easy.”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because you were already involved before I knew you.”
“How?”
“Your family.”
She looked down.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
He leaned back.
“But that’s not why.”
“Then why?”
Lucien was quiet.
When he finally spoke, his voice was softer.
“Because when you arrived, you made me question things I had stopped questioning.”
Evelyn’s chest tightened.
“What things?”
“Myself.”
She looked at him.
He continued.
“I spent years believing I knew exactly what kind of man I was.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m not sure.”
Evelyn smiled faintly.
“That’s probably a good thing.”
“Why?”
“People who are certain they’re good usually aren’t.”
Lucien laughed quietly.
“You really are strange.”
“I’ve been told.”
He looked at her.
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was different.
Almost warm.
Evelyn noticed that his hand was resting on the table between them.
Without thinking, she placed hers beside it.
Their fingers touched.
Neither moved.
Lucien looked down.
Then at her.
“Evelyn.”
“Yes?”
“If things become dangerous…”
“They already are.”
“I mean worse.”
She waited.
“If you have to choose between the truth and your life…”
He stopped.
She understood.
“You want me to choose my life.”
“Yes.”
“And if you have to choose?”
His answer came immediately.
“You.”
Her heart skipped.
She looked away.
“That’s not fair.”
“I know.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I might believe you.”
He was silent.
Then his fingers moved.
He gently touched hers.
“I hope you do.”
Evelyn couldn’t answer.
Outside, thunder rolled across the sky.
Neither of them noticed the shadow standing at the end of the corridor.
The figure watched through the partially open door.
Then quietly turned away.
A silver ring caught the moonlight.
The same ring that had appeared in the hand of the Silver Crow.
The next morning, a messenger arrived from the capital.
He carried an imperial seal.
Lucien broke it open.
Evelyn watched his expression change as he read.
“What is it?”
He handed her the letter.
She read.
Her blood ran cold.
The emperor had summoned Lucien to the capital.
Not as a noble.
Not as an adviser.
As a suspect.
The accusation was direct.
Duke Lucien Valemont is suspected of conspiring against the imperial throne.
Evelyn read the sentence again.
Then looked at Lucien.
“They’re blaming you.”
“Yes.”
“For the attack?”
“Apparently.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Politically?”
“Completely.”
Lucien took the letter back.
“They don’t need it to be true.”
Evelyn understood.
They only needed people to believe it.
A duke accused of treason.
A mysterious attack.
A secret investigation.
A connection to the old imperial records.
It was enough.
The story was beginning to move.
Not because fate demanded it.
Because someone was deliberately pushing the pieces into place.
Evelyn looked toward the window.
“How long do we have?”
“Three days.”
“And you’re going.”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
“Even though it’s a trap?”
“Especially because it’s a trap.”
She shook her head.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Lucien.”
“If the emperor wants to accuse me, you staying here is safer.”
“That’s exactly why I’m going.”
He frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“If you’re being accused because of me, then I need to be there.”
“You aren’t responsible.”
“I know.”
She stepped closer.
“But I’m involved.”
Lucien stared at her.
Then sighed.
“I knew you would say that.”
“Then why argue?”
“Because I was hoping you had become sensible.”
“Unfortunately, no.”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“Unfortunately.”
He looked at the imperial summons again.
Then folded it.
“Three days.”
Evelyn nodded.
Three days before they entered the capital.
Three days before Lucien stood before the emperor.
Three days before the person manipulating them made their next move.
And somewhere inside the mansion, hidden among servants, guards and noble guests, someone was already preparing for their arrival.
The first attack had failed.
The book was gone.
The documents were gone.
But the enemy had achieved something more valuable.
They had made Evelyn and Lucien realize that they could no longer trust the people around them.
And once trust was broken, suspicion could become a weapon.
The war had not begun.
But someone had just fired the first shot.