Chapter 1 - The Hollow Emptiness

  The rain had been falling for days.

  It came down steadily, tapping against the windows of Caelistra-Veyrath Manor like the world was quietly knocking, waiting for someone to answer. Inside, the air was cold, thick with an emptiness that filled every corner of the room. There was no comfort here, no warmth, just the persistent whisper of silence.

  Lilienne Aeris Caelistra y on her bed, her back pressed to the cold, unyielding sheets. Her long, silky vender hair fanned out around her like a wilted halo, dull against the pale linen. Her light green eyes, once bright with curiosity, now stared bnkly at the ceiling. Hollow, empty, as though all the life had been drained from them.

  Her body felt heavy, like it no longer belonged to her. She had no strength to move, no will to live. The darkness had crept inside her long ago. In the years after her father's death-when the abuse began, when the whispers grew louder, when even servants looked at her as though she were an echo of disgrace. She was the daughter of the fallen hero, General Sirius Alistair Nocthrein-the man the Kingdom had buried in silence, the man the nobles now pretended had never existed. His name, once uttered with reverence, was now spoken only in hushed tones, if at all.

  And because she resembled him so closely, his sharp eyes, his quiet dignity, even the way she carried herself. Lilienne had become the target of all that silent contempt.

  Especially from the Grand Duke, Thaddeus Caemoris Veyrath.

  He had never struck her in front of others. No, his violence was careful, calcuted. A backhanded sp when she dared speak out of turn. A hand gripped too tightly around her wrist.

  A voice that dripped with venom when he sneered, "Just like him. Always like him."

  She had been terrified of him as a child. She still was.

  No one stopped it. No one dared.

  She had been left to survive in a house filled with people who never truly saw her, only the ghost of a man they hated.

  Now, she was just a girl lost in a world that never understood her.

  The bottle, empty now, rested beside her hand, the bitter taste of poison lingering on her tongue. She had done it. She had tried to end the aching, the crushing weight of a life that never seemed to belong to her. But something, someone, had pulled her back from the brink.

  A maid of the Caelistra, Seryll, had found her just in time. The one person who had never looked at her with pity or fear, one who didn't act like Lilienne was a broken thing, or worse, a dangerous one. But even Seryll couldn't take away the feeling that had settled deep inside her. That hollow, aching emptiness that no one could fill. Not even Seryll's soft hands as she held Lilienne, whispered her name, and urged her to stay.

  Lilienne hadn't fought, hadn't screamed. She had let Seryll take the bottle from her hand, her fingers so numb it was as though they belonged to someone else. She hadn't cared. She hadn't wanted to care.

  Now, as the days blurred together, she y in her room, waiting for nothing. The manor felt so cold, so foreign, like a pce where no one ever really belonged.

  Grand Duke Thaddeus hadn't come to check on her. Of course he hadn't. His indifference was a constant presence in her life, but it was the hatred simmering beneath that frightened her more. Every time she crossed paths with him, she could feel it like a chill behind her spine, a loathing so intense, it was like breathing poison.

  His daughters, Cassian and Seraphyne, had been in and out, their lives so far removed from hers that their occasional gnces only reminded her of how invisible she truly was. They didn't speak to her unless forced to. Not out of cruelty, perhaps, but out of discomfort, because acknowledging her was to acknowledge the blood of Nocthrein that still lingered in this house.

  Her mother, the Grand Duchess Isalyn, had cried. But it was behind closed doors, in private, as though Lilienne's pain was something to be hidden, something to be ashamed of. It was always this way. No one spoke of the things that mattered. No one acknowledged the coldness that defined House Veyrath.

  Lilienne longed for her father, the one person who had ever made her feel safe. He had been gone since she was eight. The reason for his death, cloaked in secrecy, fed to her as half-truths and noble silence. She couldn't remember his voice, but she could remember his presence, strong and steady. She remembered how he would hold her when she cried, how he was the only one who made her feel like she mattered.

  But he was gone. And in his pce, only silence remained.

  The weather outside matched the emptiness inside. The rain had grown heavier, battering the windows with a soft, mournful rhythm. It was as though the storm had no intention of stopping. Just like her life.

  It was then that she noticed the letter.

  It had been there for hours, lying on her desk, unnoticed among the clutter of empty bottles and scattered papers. She hadn't heard the knock, hadn't noticed the delivery. But there it was, an envelope with no return address, just a single symbol: the sigil of House Lysarian.

  Her eyes fixed on the seal, a blue rose, delicate and in full bloom. The sigil of House Lysarian.

  That alone made her pause. Lysarian? They were known for keeping to themselves, always distant from court politics. Apolitical, graceful, quiet. They rarely mingled with other nobles, never sent letters, never got involved.

  So why now? And why her?

  Curiosity stirred in her chest. It didn't make sense. Of all the houses, Lysarian was the least likely to reach out. But the envelope was real, the seal unbroken. And it was waiting.

  Lilienne reached for it slowly, her fingers trembling as she turned the envelope over. The paper was thick, the edges slightly worn, as if it had been handled by many hands. She opened it carefully, unsure of what she might find inside.

  The letter was short, but every word felt like it was meant for her.

  "To the Daughter of General Sirius Alistair Nocthrein,

  The truth of your father's death lies beyond the walls of Caelistra Manor. The man who once served as the General of Voltheria was taken from this world by hands unknown. It is a death that has been buried under lies, under the weight of power. Seek the Kingdom of Voltheria, where your father's legacy lives on.

  The truth awaits."

  The words blurred in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat as she read them again, and then again, each time hoping she had misunderstood.

  Her father. The hero of Voltheria. He had been killed.

  The weight of it hit her like a wave crashing against the shore, pulling her deeper into a sea of confusion and anger. Her father's death had never made sense. He had been a general, a man of great honor. He was a part of Nocthrein, a noble family that had once held great power. But he had died so quietly, so privately. No one had spoken of it, and it had been buried under the facade of House Veyrath.

  But now... now, someone was telling her the truth. Someone knew what had happened. And it wasn't an accident. It wasn't just some cruel twist of fate.

  He had been killed.

  Voltheria.

  Her heart raced as the name echoed in her mind. The kingdom her father had once served. The kingdom that held the key to everything. The kingdom that might hold the answers she had been searching for.

  The pain, the hollow emptiness that had defined her existence, began to shift. For the first time in years, Lilienne felt something stirring inside her. Something fierce. Something determined.

  She wasn't just going to lie in this room, waiting for the rain to wash her away.

  She wasn't going to let her father's death remain a mystery.

  She would find the truth.

  No matter what it cost her.

  With trembling hands, she set the letter down and stood up. The world outside was dark, the storm still raging.

  But for the first time in a long time, Lilienne felt a flicker of hope.

  A reason to live.

  A reason to fight.