The sacred oil shattered across the stone floor as the priest stared at the burned crest beneath the girl’s iron collar in horror.

“That mark…” he whispered. “She’s the true heir.”

Gasps spread across the great hall.

The Countess slowly stood from her throne, fear flashing briefly behind her cold smile as nobles turned toward the chained girl in disbelief.

“The lost daughter survived,” the priest said louder.

The hall erupted into whispers.

Then the Countess calmly raised her hand.

“Kill the priest.”

Guards reached for their swords instantly.

But before anyone could move, the sound of snapping iron echoed through the hall.

One of the girl’s chains hit the floor.

Then another.

Slowly, the masked girl lifted her head beneath the torchlight while terrified nobles stared in silence.

For the first time that night—

The North feared the girl in chains.