Beyond the fractured passage, church forces remain halted by the library’s sealed wards. Within the obsidian chamber, Seralyth keeps her distance, eyes fixed on Walksfar’s exposed birthmark.
Seralyth
That mark is not merely proof of blood. It is the sign I was taught to seek. I have spent years searching for a surviving Leapold-Gold princess.
The silver and black sigils on Seralyth’s cuff tighten into a luminous chain. Each link sinks briefly into her skin before retreating, while the Soul-Anchor gives a wary hum.
Seralyth
My oath commands me to find your line, confirm its bearer, and deliver that knowledge to the order. It never promised they would spare the princess.
The Gray-Mantled Stranger
Careful. Every truth she speaks strengthens the vow. The order may hear through it, even with their soldiers held outside.
Seralyth
If I name the final secret, the oath will bind her to their hunters as surely as it binds me.
Seralyth
I searched because I believed one heir might still choose what the royal line abandoned. Now the oath knows exactly where you stand, princess.