## The Dagger
Madame Cronac unwrapped the layers of cloth that had hidden the weapon against her body for eleven years.
The dagger emerged—beautifully crafted, deadly sharp, its handle decorated with gold.
She stared into the blade as though looking into an abyss. Her chest ached where the original blow had struck, just above her heart. The scar tissue pulled tight as memories flooded back.
*Tonight. I will see the end.*
---
## Eleven Years Ago
The Oracle's room in Flogne Village.
Leonie stood masked and hooded before Queen Sylvia, relaying Arbor's prophecy: "If the Crown Prince ascends to the throne, the entire country will be engulfed in war."
The Queen had received the message with indifference and left with her whining daughter.
But Leonie had seen more than the message itself. She'd witnessed the future unfold—burning fields, blood, devastation. It was her first true vision, and it shattered her.
Days passed. Arbor fell silent. Her own foreboding grew unbearable.
Then came the bells—the warning that a stranger approached the village.
The boy who entered her reception room was beautiful and terrible. Bright lemon-blonde hair. Ice-blue eyes. A smile that held something dangerous.
Prince Valquiterre.
"Are you the fortuneteller who said if I become King, the country will be at war?" he asked pleasantly.
Leonie's heart hammered. "I am."
"Ask the tree. Will I become King?"
Through her fear, she felt Arbor's response: *"Yes. You will become King."*
She relayed the answer.
Valquiterre's smile widened—beautiful, possessive, insane.
"Then your prophecy is wrong," he said softly. "What kind of oracle can't see even an inch ahead?"
The dagger appeared from nowhere, plunging into her chest.
Pain. Shock. The world spinning.
"I will tell the Queen your prophecy was false," Valquiterre whispered as she choked on blood. "That you're a fraud."
He stepped back, repulsed by her suffering.
Then fire.
The roof caught flame. Cloth fell burning around them. Servants screamed in the corridors.
Valquiterre wrapped himself in his cloak and disappeared into the chaos, leaving the dagger embedded in her body.
Leonie collapsed as Flogne Village burned around her.
---
## The Restored Blade
She survived. Barely.
The dagger was pulled from her body by doctors who didn't understand its significance. Fire had damaged it, marred its beauty. It took years to restore it to its original form.
On the handle, engraved in gold: *[Valquiterre. A small sun shining on Oberon.]*
The man who'd stabbed her had become King. The prophecy came true exactly as Arbor had foreseen—Valquiterre's reign brought war, brought suffering, brought death to thousands.
And Claudel, the daughter Leonie had lost in the flames, had somehow survived. Had somehow ended up married to the very enemy Leonie had tried to protect her from.
Fate, it seemed, enjoyed cruel jokes.
---
## The Water Banquet Begins
At the lakeside dock, oil lanterns floated like stars on the dark water.
Hannah watched Claudel nervously. "Isn't it too cold for that dress?"
"The night is beautiful," Claudel replied, her red chiffon gown flowing around her. It was the first smile Hannah had seen from her in days.
Rohan arrived to escort the boats. "We're ready to set sail, Duchess."
Claudel arranged for Hannah to board with Rohan—two people who clearly cared for each other, and she wanted them to have this moment together. She was thinking of others even in her own despair.
Then Kaian appeared.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind, claiming her publicly for the first time in days. "I will take care of my wife."
The gesture was possessive, but also protective. And for a moment, Claudel allowed herself to hope that perhaps everything would be all right.
---
## The Convergence
Unknown to anyone, Leonie watched from the shadows beyond the lantern light.
She saw her daughter in that red dress—alive, beautiful, carrying a grandchild that she didn't yet know was hers.
She saw Kaian, the man Valquiterre had manipulated into rejecting his own child.
And somewhere on the water, the King sailed in his grand ship, oblivious that his childhood crime was about to catch up with him.
The dagger in Leonie's hand felt alive, eager, hungry for the justice that had been delayed for eleven years.
*Tonight. The prophecy will finally complete itself.*
She watched the boats glide onto the dark lake, each carrying people who had no idea that their fates were about to collide—that a mother's rage, a King's cruelty, a husband's doubt, and an innocent child's survival were about to converge in blood and fire.
---