vows of the crimson house

The envelope arrived at exactly midnight. Seraphina Veyra knew because the clock on her bedside table had just changed from 11:59 to 12:00 She had been awake for nearly an hour, listening to the rain.It had started as a soft drizzle, but now the storm pressed against the windows of the Veyra estate, rattling the glass and sending shadows dancing across her bedroom walls.

She couldn't sleep.Something felt wrong.

Then—

Knock.

Seraphina froze.

Three seconds passed.

Knock. Knock.

Nobody knocked on the front door at midnight.Not at the Veyra estate.

She slipped on her robe and stepped into the hallway.

The house was silent.

Too silent.

She descended the stairs and found no one at the entrance.

Only an envelope.It lay perfectly in the center of the marble floor.

Black.

Sealed with dark-red wax.

A silver raven was pressed into the seal.

The Dravelle crest.Her father's oldest enemies.

Seraphina's stomach tightened.

She quickly locked the door and returned upstairs.

Inside her room, she broke the seal.

There was one sheet of paper.

MEET ME TOMORROW.

Below it was an address.

Luna & Co. Café

7:00 p.m.

And beneath that—

Cassian Dravelle

Seraphina stared at the name.

Cassian.

She hadn't heard it in years.

But she remembered him.

A quiet boy with dark eyes whom she'd seen once when she was younger.

Her father's warning still echoed in her memory.Stay away from the Dravelles.

She turned the paper over.

Come alone.

Her phone suddenly vibrated.

An unknown number.

You received my invitation.

Another message appeared.

Seven o'clock. Luna & Co.

Then:

Don't bring your family.Seraphina stared at the screen.

Whoever Cassian Dravelle had become, he clearly wasn't someone who liked being ignored.

The next evening arrived too quickly.

At 6:57 p.m., Seraphina stood outside Luna & Co.

The café was small, warm, and almost painfully ordinary.Golden lights glowed through the windows. Plants hung from the ceiling, and the smell of cinnamon and freshly baked pastries drifted through the open door.

Nothing about the place looked dangerous.

That made her suspicious.

She pushed the door open.

A tiny bell rang above her.

Seraphina stepped inside.

Her eyes moved across the room.

Then she saw him.And for a moment, she forgot why she had come.

Cassian Dravelle sat alone at a table in the far corner.

He was dressed simply in black, but there was nothing ordinary about him.

He had the kind of features that seemed almost sculpted rather than naturally formed—sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, dark brows, and striking eyes that gave nothing away.

His dark hair fell slightly across his forehead, perfectly imperfect.

There was something almost classical about his face, like a figure carved from marble and brought to life.If Greek mythology had created a modern prince, Seraphina thought, he might have looked something like this.

But the resemblance ended there.

There was no warmth in his expression.

No welcoming smile.

Only an unreadable calm that made the entire café seem quieter around him.

His gaze lifted.

Their eyes met.Cold.

Steady.

Unflinching.

Cassian didn't look surprised to see her.

He simply watched her approach as though he'd known all along that she would come.

Seraphina stopped at the table.

“You're Cassian.”

His expression didn't change.

“And you're late.”

She glanced at the clock.

“It's 6:59.”

“Exactly.”His voice was low and controlled.

Not rude.

Not friendly either.

Just cold.

Seraphina pulled out the chair opposite him.

“You invited me.”

“I did.”

“So why did you?”

Cassian gestured toward the chair.

“Sit.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You always give orders?”“When necessary.”

Seraphina sat.

Cassian reached for his coffee.

He didn't take his eyes off her.

“You haven't changed much.”

“I barely remember you.”

“I remember you.”

The words were simple.

His expression remained completely unreadable.

Seraphina folded her arms.

“Then perhaps you should remind me.”

For the first time, something shifted in his eyes.Not a smile.

Not quite amusement.

Something much harder to identify.

“You were eleven,” he said. “You hated crowded rooms. You used to hide behind the curtains during family gatherings.”

Seraphina went still.

“How do you remember that?”

“I remember everything.”

He placed a photograph on the table.

Seraphina looked down.

Her father's face stared back at her.Beside him stood a stranger.

And behind them was the silver raven of the Dravelle family.

She looked up.

“Who is that?”

Cassian leaned back.

His expression became even colder.

“That's the reason you're here.”

Seraphina looked at the photograph again.

“What does he have to do with my father?”

Cassian didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he studied her carefully.

“You've spent your entire life believing the Veyra-Dravelle feud began with“Didn't it?”

“No.”

His answer came instantly.

Seraphina's eyes narrowed.

“Then what happened?”

Cassian's gaze hardened.

“That's what your father doesn't want you to know.”

The café bell rang as another customer entered.

Cassian didn't look away from Seraphina.

“Your family has been hidin“What?”

Cassian pushed the photograph toward her.

“You're going to find out.”

Seraphina looked at him.

“And you're going to tell me?”

“No.”

His answer was cold enough to stop her.

“I'm going to give you the truth,” he said. “What you do with it is your problem.”

For a moment, Seraphina couldn't speak.

Cassian stood.

He placed a few bills on the table.

“Wait.”He stopped.

“You brought me here for answers, and now you're leaving?”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“I've given you enough for tonight.”

“That isn't fair.”

Cassian's expression remained unreadable.

“Neither is the world you're about to discover.”

Then he walked toward the door.

Seraphina watched him leave.

The bell above the café door rang softly as it closed behind him.

She looked down at the photograph again And suddenly, the mysterious invitation didn't feel like an invitation anymore.

It felt like the beginning of something neither family could stop..

Chapter Two — The Photograph

Seraphina didn't sleep that night.

The photograph lay on her desk, illuminated by the weak glow of her bedside lamp.

She had stared at it for hours.

Her father.

The unfamiliar man.

And behind them, the unmistakable silver raven of the Dravelles.

There was something about the photograph that bothered her more than anything Cassian had said.

Her father looked afraid.

Not angry.

Not furious.

Afraid.

Seraphina had never seen that expression on his face before.

At six in the morning, she finally pushed the photograph into the drawer beside her bed.

She needed answers.

But she wasn't going to get them from Cassian.

Not yet.

“Good morning.”

Seraphina looked up from her breakfast.

Her father sat at the opposite end of the long dining table, reading the newspaper as though nothing in the world could possibly concern him.

She studied him carefully.

“Dad?”

He lowered the newspaper.

“Yes?”

“Do you know a man named Alaric Voss?”

The newspaper stopped moving.

Only for a second.

But Seraphina noticed.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“So you do know him.”

Her father's expression hardened.

“Where did you hear that name?”

Seraphina hesitated.

“Someone mentioned him.”

“Who?”

She looked down at her plate.

“I met someone yesterday.”

Silence.

Her father slowly folded the newspaper.

“Who?”

“Cassian Dravelle.”

The room seemed to change instantly.

Her father's face lost all color.

“You did what?”

“I met him.”

“Where?”

“A café.”

“Seraphina, I told you—”

“I know what you told me.”

Her voice was steadier than she felt.

“You told me to stay away from the Dravelles. You never told me why.”

Her father stood.

“Because I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

He didn't answer.

“Dad.”

His jaw tightened.

“You don't understand what you're getting involved in.”

“Then explain it to me.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

Finally, he said quietly,

“Forget Cassian Dravelle.”

Seraphina shook her head.

“I can't.”

“You can.”

“No.”

Her father stared at her.

For the first time, Seraphina realized something terrifying.

He wasn't angry because she had disobeyed him.

He was frightened because she had discovered something.

Before either of them could say another word, his phone rang.

He answered.

“Veyra.”

His expression changed.

“What?”

Seraphina watched him carefully.

He turned away from her.

“Are you certain?”

A pause.

“Don't tell anyone.”

He ended the call.

Seraphina stood.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You're lying.”

His eyes snapped toward her.

“Seraphina.”

It was a warning.

She knew that tone.

She had heard it many times growing up.

But this time, she wasn't going to back down.

“What happened?”

Her father picked up his coat.

“I have somewhere to be.”

“Dad—”

“Stay home.”

Then he walked away.

Seraphina watched the doors close behind him.

Something was happening.

And she was tired of being the last person to know.

That afternoon, Seraphina returned to Luna & Co.

She wasn't sure why.

Maybe she wanted answers.

Maybe she wanted to prove to herself that she wasn't afraid.

Or maybe she simply wanted to understand why Cassian Dravelle had looked at her as though he already knew the ending to a story she had only just begun reading.

The café was quieter than it had been the previous evening.

She chose a table near the window.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Cassian didn't appear.

She almost laughed at herself.

Of course he wasn't coming.

She had no idea why she'd expected him to.

Then a shadow fell across her table.

Seraphina looked up.

Cassian stood there.

Same dark clothes.

Same unreadable expression.

Same cold eyes.

“You came back,” he said.

“You knew I would.”

“I suspected.”

She gestured toward the empty chair.

“Sit.”

Cassian looked at her.

“You're giving me orders now?”

“Apparently.”

For the briefest moment, something almost resembling amusement crossed his face.

Then it disappeared.

He sat.

Seraphina leaned forward.

“Who is Alaric Voss?”

Cassian's expression changed.

Not dramatically.

But enough.

“You asked your father?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“He wouldn't answer.”

Cassian looked toward the window.

“That tells you something.”

“It tells me everyone knows something except me.”

“That's because you're the one person they wanted to keep out of it.”

“Why?”

Cassian looked directly at her.

“Because you're a Veyra.”

Seraphina frowned.

“That doesn't answer anything.”

“It answers more than you think.”

He reached into his coat and placed another photograph on the table.

This one was older.

Much older.

Seraphina picked it up.

Her eyes widened.

It showed two young men standing beside a black car.

One was her father.

The other was Cassian's father.

They weren't enemies.

They were smiling.

Seraphina looked at Cassian.

“They knew each other.”

“They were friends.”

Her fingers tightened around the photograph.

“That can't be true.”

“It is.”

“Then what happened?”

Cassian's gaze became distant.

“A betrayal.”

“Whose?”

He didn't answer.

Seraphina stared at him.

“You keep giving me pieces of the story.”

“Because the truth isn't something you should hear from me.”

“Then who should tell me?”

Cassian stood.

“Your father.”

He turned to leave.

Seraphina quickly stood.

“Cassian.”

He stopped.

She hesitated before asking,

“Why are you helping me?”

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he looked over his shoulder.

“I'm not.”

And he walked away.

Seraphina remained beside the table, watching him disappear through the café door.

She looked down at the photograph again.

Two families.

One friendship.

One betrayal.

And a secret someone had spent years hiding from her.

Her phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

One message.

Stop asking questions.

Seraphina's blood ran cold.

A second message appeared.

The next person who answers you may not be as patient as Cassian.

She slowly looked toward the café window.

Across the street, a black car was parked beneath a streetlight.

Its windows were completely dark.

And somehow, Seraphina knew—

Someone was watching her.