Riven knew something was wrong before the system spoke.
It was the silence.
Not the peaceful kind. Not the early morning before the city wakes silence.
This was tighter.
Like the world was holding its breath.
Maelis was already awake.
He could tell without opening his eyes. Her presence felt different when she slept—looser, less coiled. Right now, it was sharp. Alert. Ready to move.
Riven exhaled slowly. "You feel it too?"
"Yes," she said. "And I hate that you didn't ask how."
He opened his eyes.
She stood by the window, half-dressed, one hand resting casually on a dagger that definitely wasn't casual. Her jaw was set, eyes narrowed at the street below.
"Let me guess," Riven said, sitting up. "Our favorite noble?"
Maelis didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
"She sent people," Maelis said finally. "Not soldiers. Couriers. Watchers. The kind that smile when you notice them."
Riven rubbed his face. "Vireya Caelmont doesn't waste moves."
"No," Maelis agreed. "She invests."
The system chose that exact moment to wake up.
[Affinity Ledger — Event Triggered]
[Arc: Power Entanglement — Active]
[Condition: Choice Required]
[Warning: Avoidance Will Increase Scar Severity]
Riven laughed under his breath. "Of course it will."
Maelis turned sharply. "What did it say?"
"That I'm out of time."
She crossed the room in three strides. "Then choose fast."
"That's the problem," he replied. "Every option costs something different."
She stared at him. "Stop talking like this is a puzzle."
"It is."
"No," she snapped. "It's a blade. And you're deciding who it cuts."
That one hurt.
Good.
Riven stood, shoulders rolling as if he could physically shake the pressure off. "Vireya wants leverage. She won't strike openly yet."
"And if you ignore her?"
"She escalates."
"And if you meet her?"
"She claims precedent."
Maelis's eyes darkened. "Meaning?"
"Meaning the system will recognize her as active competition."
The air between them thickened.
"So," Maelis said quietly, "I become optional."
"No," Riven said immediately.
She smiled without humor. "You didn't say impossible."
That was the blind spot again.
Riven hated how often she found those.
Before he could respond—
A knock at the door.
Polite.
Measured.
Wrong.
Maelis's dagger was in her hand instantly. "Window or back?"
Riven shook his head. "Front."
She stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
"Riven—"
"If we run," he said calmly, "the system counts it as refusal."
"And?"
"And refusal makes the scar worse."
The knock came again.
Still polite.
Riven walked to the door.
Every instinct screamed not to.
He opened it anyway.
The woman on the other side was young, well-dressed, eyes too sharp for her smile.
"Riven Calder," she said. "Lady Vireya requests your presence."
Maelis stepped into view behind him.
The courier's gaze flicked to her—just for a second.
That second was enough.
"Tell your lady," Riven said, "I don't respond well to summons."
The courier smiled wider. "She anticipated that."
She handed him a sealed letter.
Red wax. Crest pressed deep.
Riven didn't take it.
Maelis did.
She broke the seal, scanned the contents, then looked up slowly.
"Well?" Riven asked.
"She's not asking," Maelis said. "She's offering terms."
"And?"
"And she knows about me."
The ledger reacted immediately.
[Affinity Ledger — Conflict Detected]
[Bond: Survival / Dependency — Pressure Increasing]
[Bond: Power / Politics — Opportunity Window Open]
Riven closed his eyes.
There it was.
The choice.
Meet Vireya alone — minimize political cost, maximize emotional damage.
Bring Maelis — escalate power dynamics, risk bond destabilization.
Refuse entirely — trigger forced correction.
No clean path.
Only different scars.
He opened his eyes and looked at Maelis.
Not the weapon.
Not the survivor.
The person.
"I won't go alone," he said.
The courier stiffened. "Lady Caelmont did not—"
"Then she can adjust," Riven cut in. "Or she can burn bridges before building them."
Maelis studied him.
Carefully.
"You're choosing conflict," she said.
"I'm choosing honesty."
She scoffed softly. "That's worse."
But she didn't step away.
Vireya Caelmont's estate didn't look like a threat.
That was the threat.
Open gardens. Soft lights. Guards positioned like decorations rather than barriers.
Power that didn't need to flex.
Vireya waited in the central hall, seated, legs crossed, expression mildly amused.
Her eyes flicked to Maelis immediately.
Then back to Riven.
"So," she said, "you brought your anchor."
Maelis bristled.
Riven didn't miss it.
"I brought a person," he replied.
Vireya smiled. "Even better."
She gestured for them to sit.
No one did.
Her smile sharpened.
"Straight to business then," she said. "I want you."
Maelis's grip tightened.
"Not like that," Vireya added smoothly. "Though eventually, perhaps."
Riven didn't react.
"Power recognizes power," Vireya continued. "You are… unusual. And the system you carry is valuable."
Maelis's eyes snapped to Riven.
System?
Vireya noticed.
"Oh," she said lightly. "She doesn't know everything."
The ledger flared.
[Affinity Ledger — Critical Warning]
[First Scar Imminent]
[Cause: Information Asymmetry]
Riven felt it then.
The pain.
Not physical.
Conceptual.
Like something inside him was tearing to make room.
He staggered.
Maelis caught him instantly. "Riven—"
"I'm fine," he lied.
Vireya watched with open interest.
"There," she said. "That was the opening."
Riven looked up at her, breathing hard. "You did that."
"I forced the system to choose," she corrected. "Between concealment and consolidation."
The pain spiked.
[Affinity Ledger]
[Scar Formed: Partial Disclosure]
[Effect: Future Bonds Will Demand Transparency]
[Note: Pain Will Dull — Consequences Will Not]
Maelis stared at him.
"You hid things," she said slowly.
"Yes."
"And now?"
"I can't," he replied.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Vireya leaned back, satisfied. "Welcome to the game, Riven Calder."
Maelis stepped back from him.
Not far.
But far enough.
"That," she said quietly, "is the cost you didn't warn me about."
Riven met her gaze.
Didn't beg.
Didn't justify.
"I didn't know how much it would hurt," he said.
She nodded once. "Now you do."
The system went silent.
The scar burned.
And Riven understood the rule too late:
The first scar doesn't weaken you.
It teaches the system how to hurt you better.