Chapter 10: The Court's Mask
Adrian stood at the edge of the coronation court, his borrowed tunic itching against his skin. The grand hall glittered with chandeliers and noble finery, a far cry from the Academy's cold stone. His paper had won him a place here, but the coded letter and ledger, hidden in his boot, reminded him why he'd come: the royal vault, and the proof to clear his family's name. The Dravens' plot loomed, and every smile in this room hid a blade.
Lira and Cassian, also invited, stood nearby. Lira's eyes scanned the crowd, her plain dress marking her as an outsider. Cassian, draped in Draven silks, smirked at Adrian, his presence a storm cloud. The king's throne sat empty, the coronation moments away. Adrian's note to Elara—warning of a Draven plot—had gone unanswered. He was on his own.
A herald's trumpet silenced the chatter. The king-to-be, Prince Alaric, entered, his crown heavy with expectation. Adrian's heart thudded. If the Dravens struck now, chaos would follow. He edged closer to Lira, whispering, "Keep an eye on Cassian."
She nodded, but her frown said she felt the same dread. "You sure about this, Adrian?"
"No," he admitted, voice low. "But I'm here."
The ceremony began, nobles kneeling as Alaric swore his oath. Adrian's gaze darted to the vault door, a slab of rune-carved steel at the hall's far end. His research said it opened only for the king's blood—a lock he couldn't break. Yet.
Then it happened. A scream pierced the air, and smoke billowed from the throne. Nobles panicked, guards rushing to Alaric. Adrian's instincts screamed Draven. He grabbed Lira, pulling her behind a pillar as the crowd surged. Cassian was gone, vanished in the chaos.
"It's a diversion," Adrian hissed. "They're after something—maybe the vault."
Lira's eyes widened. "We need to move."
They slipped through the crowd, dodging frantic nobles. Adrian's mind raced. The smoke wasn't lethal—just thick enough to sow panic. A Draven tactic, straight from their playbook. He spotted a side passage near the vault, unguarded in the mayhem. "This way," he said, leading Lira.
The passage was dim, its walls etched with ancient wards. At its end, a figure stood before the vault—Cassian, his hands glowing with magic, Lord Kael beside him. Kael held a vial of dark liquid—blood, Adrian realized, meant to trick the vault's lock.
"Stop!" Adrian shouted, stepping forward. His voice was steady, but his heart pounded. "You're done, Cassian."
Cassian laughed, flames flickering in his palm. "Corveth, you're a pest. Kael, open it."
Kael smeared the blood on the vault, but the runes didn't budge. Adrian's mind clicked—his paper had mentioned blood wards rejecting fakes. He had a chance. "It won't work," he said, stalling. "The vault knows you're thieves."
Kael's face twisted. "Kill him," he snarled.
Cassian lunged, fire roaring. Adrian dove, the heat searing his arm. Lira threw a loose stone, clipping Cassian's shoulder. It bought a second, but they were outmatched. Then a new voice cut through: "Enough!"
Toren emerged from the shadows, his cloak torn. "Cassian, you're finished," he said, holding a glowing crystal—stolen from the workshop, Adrian realized, rigged to disrupt magic.
Cassian's flames faltered, but his sneer didn't. "Vael, you traitor. You were with us."
Adrian's blood froze. Toren—working with the Dravens? The ledger, the archive tip-off—it all clicked. Toren had played him.
Toren's eyes met Adrian's, guilt flashing. "I was," he admitted. "But I'm done. They used my family, same as yours." He tossed the crystal, and a pulse of light snuffed Cassian's magic.
Kael roared, drawing a dagger, but guards flooded the passage, Elara at their helm. "Stand down!" she barked. Her eyes flicked to Adrian, a silent acknowledgment. The note had worked.
Cassian and Kael were seized, cursing as they were dragged away. The vault remained shut, its secrets safe—for now. Adrian sagged against the wall, Lira steadying him. "You okay?" she asked.
"No," he said, voice raw. Toren's betrayal stung worse than the burns on his arm. "But I'm alive."
Toren approached, head bowed. "I owed you, Corveth. I tipped Cassian off in the archive, but I couldn't let them win. Not after what they did to us."
Adrian's fists clenched. "You almost got me killed."
"I know," Toren said. "Hate me, but I'm on your side now."
Elara interrupted, her voice sharp. "Corveth, you've stirred a hornet's nest. The king will hear of this. Stay sharp."
As the guards cleared the passage, Adrian clutched the letter in his boot. The vault was still out of reach, but Cassian's arrest was a crack in the Draven wall. The coronation resumed, Alaric safe, but Adrian's fight was far from over. The truth was close, and he'd claw it free—no matter who he had to face.