CHAPTER 171: THE ORDER OF THE HOLLOW STAR

By dawn, the palace was already stirring, but Lucien’s wing remained silent...cold, as if untouched by time or warmth.

Liora stood near the table, her hair still damp from the hurried bath. She hadn’t slept. How could she, with the truth clawing at her throat?

Lucien entered, already dressed, his eyes alert. "We leave in ten minutes."

She glanced at the map he unfolded. It was a copy of the older palace layout, back when the Miral family had holdings near the southern garrison. "Are we going to the archives?" she asked.

"No," he said. "The archives have been scrubbed clean by now. We’re going to the old crypts beneath the chapel."

"The catacombs?" she blinked. "That’s off-limits."

A hint of a smile ghosted over his lips. "Good thing I’m no longer concerned with permission."

Scarlet burst in just then, holding a plate of pastries and a wild look in her eyes. "Alright, I know you said don’t bring attention, but the kitchen boy saw me sneaking food and now he thinks I’m part of some secret rebellion..."

Lucien raised a brow.

She froze. "...Not that I denied it."

Liora bit back a laugh.

"You’re staying here," Lucien told Scarlet. "Guard the letter. And if anyone asks, we left for the hunting grounds."

Scarlet nodded solemnly. "Got it. I’ll fake a limp if needed. Or pretend I’m mute...honestly, my talents are very flexible."

Lucien turned without another word, and Liora followed, barely suppressing a smile. That girl was chaos wrapped in loyalty.

The crypt beneath the chapel smelled of moss and secrets. Cold air kissed their skin as Lucien pried open the stone hatch with a crowbar. Dust spiraled into the air like forgotten memories.

Liora stepped down carefully, lantern in hand. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Records the church hid," Lucien said. "They kept ledgers of noble donations, secret baptisms, and marriages that were never announced."

"And deaths?" she asked.

Lucien glanced at her. "Especially deaths."

The silence inside the catacomb was different, heavier. As if the stones themselves held their breath.

Liora trailed her fingers along the carved wall. Names etched in fading ink. Some she recognized. Others were lost to time.

Then she saw it.

A name she’d never expected to see again.

"Lucien," she whispered, backing up.

He was beside her instantly. His eyes followed her gaze. And there it was.

Miral, Eleonora. Wife of Hector. Died in childbirth. Buried... with no record of a child.

"But... my aunt always said she had no children," Liora said. "That she was Hector’s first wife, and she died long before I was brought in."

Lucien’s voice dropped to a murmur. "Then who was the child?"

And just beneath that, half scratched out, a second name began to emerge as Liora brushed off the dust.

Child: E...

Her breath caught.

The faint letters beneath the dust slowly took form under Liora’s trembling fingers.

Child: Elaria.

Her throat tightened. "Elaria...?"

Lucien’s brows furrowed. "That name doesn’t exist in any of the court records. Are you sure she was...?"

"I don’t know," Liora whispered. "I’ve never heard of her. But if Eleonora Miral died in childbirth... And this child was buried without mention, so why is her name here? Who was she?"

Lucien’s gaze turned sharp. "Someone wanted her forgotten. Scratched out of every record but this one."

Liora leaned in, brushing more of the wall. Her heart stilled.

There was a symbol carved next to the name...a circle with a line through it. An old religious mark. Not of mourning. Of sealing.

Lucien recognized it too. "She wasn’t just buried," he murmured. "She was silenced."

Above them, the wind outside howled through the stone corridors. But deep in the crypt, the silence remained absolute.

Until a click echoed behind them.

Lucien spun, drawing his blade.

A hooded figure stood near the entrance, cloaked in ash-colored robes. No crest. No name. Just presence.

Liora stepped behind Lucien instinctively, her pulse thudding.

"I see the rats still dig where they shouldn’t," the man said, voice old and cold. "What you search for should have remained buried."

Lucien didn’t flinch. "And yet here you are. Guarding a secret grave."

The man tilted his head. "Not guarding. Warning."

Lucien’s jaw clenched. "Too late for that."

He lunged...fast, calculated. The blade struck air.

The figure vanished with a flick of his robe, as if swallowed by shadow. But not before dropping something that clattered on the ground.

Liora picked it up...a coin. Old. Blackened. And etched with the same symbol: the circle with a line.

Lucien studied it with dark eyes. "That mark... it belongs to the Order of the Hollow Star."

Liora’s lips parted. "You mean the order that was disbanded by your grandfather?"

"Officially," he said. "But the truth is, they were buried... and scattered."

He looked up at the cracked ceiling of the catacomb.

"Looks like they’ve started crawling back."

Liora crouched beside the wall, her fingers trembling as they traced over the name etched faintly into the stone. Dust fell away to reveal the word, Elaria. A chill ran through her. "Elaria..." she murmured, the name foreign yet eerily familiar. Lucien stepped closer, frowning. "That name isn’t in any of the royal records. Are you sure she existed?" Liora shook her head slowly. "I’ve never heard of her. But if Eleonora Miral died during childbirth, and this child is marked here... then someone hid her existence."

Beside the name, a symbol was carved, a circle with a line slashed through it. Liora’s breath caught. It wasn’t a mark of mourning. It was older. Something forbidden. Lucien’s expression darkened as recognition dawned. "That’s not just a grave," he said quietly. "It’s a warning. A seal."

Before they could react further, a sudden click echoed from the darkness. Lucien turned sharply, blade drawn in a blink. At the archway stood a cloaked figure in ash-gray robes, face hidden in shadow. No crest marked him, no allegiance declared—only the cold air that seemed to bend around him. "Rats," the stranger said flatly, his voice aged and gravelled. "Always digging where they shouldn’t." Liora instinctively moved behind Lucien. Her heart pounded.

Lucien didn’t back down. "You call it digging. I call it uncovering truth."

The figure tilted his head slowly, almost mockingly. "You should’ve let it rot."

Lucien lunged, swift and precise, but his blade sliced only air. The man was gone, swallowed by shadow with unnatural ease. Only a coin remained, clinking on the stone floor. Liora bent to pick it up. It was blackened and ancient, with the same ominous symbol etched deep into its surface.

Lucien studied it, his jaw clenched. "The Order of the Hollow Star," he muttered. "My grandfather swore they were wiped out."

Liora looked up, the crypt pressing in colder around them. "Then why does it feel like they never left?"

Lucien didn’t answer. He was already looking up toward the cracked ceiling, as if sensing movement far above them. "Because some things," he said grimly, "don’t stay buried forever."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Dust danced in the air like ghostly remnants of forgotten oaths, and Liora felt as if the weight of a century pressed down on her shoulders. She clutched the coin tighter, its edges biting into her palm. Lucien’s gaze remained fixed on the ceiling for a heartbeat longer before he stepped back toward her.

"We need to leave. Now," he said, his voice low, strained....not with fear, but calculation.

Liora nodded, not trusting her voice. The moment they turned, the stone beneath their feet groaned. The markings along the walls began to glow faintly...barely perceptible at first, but growing. A whisper echoed, like wind brushing over dry leaves, but it came from no clear direction. Liora instinctively grabbed Lucien’s arm.

The narrow hallway they’d come from seemed to stretch longer and darker. Then, the flickering torchlight behind them died all at once, plunging the crypt into utter darkness.

Lucien pressed her hand. "Don’t move," he ordered softly, then reached into his coat for a vial. With a swift shake, the liquid inside lit up with a pale, cold flame. The light revealed what the shadows had tried to hide...etchings now crawling across the stone, forming new symbols that hadn’t been there when they entered. Symbols that bled.

Liora’s breath hitched. "It’s a curse," she whispered.

Lucien’s expression was unreadable. "Or a summoning."

The air turned sharp and metallic. A rumble pulsed from deep within the crypt. And then came the scream...not human, not beast...just...wrong.

Lucien pushed her behind him again, sword drawn. "We’re not alone anymore."

A hand reached out from the shadows beyond, slender and pale, its nails tinted black as if dipped in poison. It gripped the edge of the doorway, and slowly, a face emerged... hollow eyes, skin stretched too tight, lips sewn shut with threads of ash.

Liora felt her knees weaken, but Lucien stood firm, his presence like a wall between her and whatever that thing was.

Then the creature tilted its head...and looked straight at her.

And Liora, for one horrifying moment, thought she saw recognition.