It came tucked between her textbooks.
A letter.
No seal. No sender. Only her name—written in blood-red ink.
Evelyne Ardent.
She turned it over in her hand. The parchment was thick, scented faintly with roses and ash. Whoever left it had done so without a trace, slipping it into her things like a whisper.
---
After class,
Evelyne read it in the privacy of her dorm.
> "To Lady Evelyne Ardent—daughter of ice, student of fire.
You are cordially invited to the Midnight Tea Gathering beneath the Glass Garden.
Come alone. Or don't come at all."
No signature. Just a single pressed rose petal between the folds.
---
She knew of the Glass Garden.
An abandoned greenhouse behind the Academy's west wing. Rumors said the student council once used it for secret parties—before a duel left the glass stained red.
A trap.
Obviously.
But…
A chance too.
---
That night, Evelyne stood before her mirror, adjusting her gloves. She didn't wear perfume. She didn't wear fear. Only silence.
"Elisse," she said, "don't wait up."
The girl, curled in her dorm bed, blinked sleepily. "You're going out? At this hour?"
"A walk," Evelyne said softly. "I won't be long."
---
Midnight.
The Glass Garden loomed ahead—vines crawling over cracked glass, moonlight spilling through gaps in the roof.
Inside, candlelight flickered.
And voices.
She stepped forward, shoes crunching over gravel, breath sharp in her chest.
A table had been set.
Tea cups. Sweets. Empty chairs. And five nobles seated in a circle—each with masks covering their eyes.
And then—
"Lady Evelyne," one of them purred.
A girl in silver. Her mask glittered like a serpent.
"We were wondering when you'd finally show up."
Evelyne didn't flinch.
But inside, her fingers twitched.
---
"Shall we begin?"
The doors behind her slammed shut.
---
To be continued…
---