The second Lord spoke before Liora had even caught her breath.
A woman with ashen skin and eyes the color of storm clouds.
Her voice was smooth, deliberate. "What is your real name?"
Liora stiffened.
Her first instinct was to answer - Liora Vale - but something stopped her.
A slow, twisting wrongness curled around her throat.
Her body knew something she didn't.
The air around the table darkened, as if the room itself was waiting.
She swallowed hard. "Liora. My name is Liora."
The golden coin shuddered.
Then, without warning, it cracked down the middle.
The Seven Lords stared.
Liora's stomach turned to ice.
"That," the woman purred, tapping a long finger against her chin, "was a lie."
The air collapsed around her.
Pain lashed through her chest like an unseen whip, cold and searing at the same time. Liora gasped, doubling over as something tore inside her.
Her name - her own name—was a lie?
It didn't make sense.
It didn't—
The pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
The golden coin's two halves lay motionless on the table.
A slow, chilling smile spread across the ashen-skinned woman's lips. "Interesting."
The ember-eyed Lord beside her exhaled, almost in amusement. "It seems our little heir does not know herself at all."
Liora forced herself to breathe.
This was a trap.
Every question was a noose tightening around her throat.
If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't leave this room alive.
The game continued.
With each question, the air in the chamber grew heavier.
Third Lord: A silver-haired man with ink-stained hands. "What is the last thing you remember before waking up in your world?"
Liora hesitated.
She remembered nothing before the orphanage.
No childhood memories. No images of parents. Just a blank space where the past should be.
"I don't remember," she admitted.
The coin flickered. The round was won.
But the Lords exchanged glances.
They knew something she didn't.
Fourth Lord: A woman with a crown made of thorns. "What do you desire most?"
Liora's throat tightened.
She wanted a normal life.
She wanted to be free.
But was that true?
She thought of the letter. The dreams. The hunger that burned inside her for something more.
Liora exhaled, voice barely above a whisper.
"I want to know who I am."
The coin flashed.
She had spoken the truth.
Then came the fifth Lord.
A figure cloaked in pure shadow, their face unreadable. Their voice, when they spoke, was barely a breath.
"Would you rather know the truth, or remain safe?"
Liora froze.
She understood this question in a way she didn't understand the others.
Somewhere, deep inside her, she already knew—
The truth was dangerous.
The truth could destroy her.
She could still walk away.
She could lie.
But her lips parted, and before she could stop herself—
"I choose the truth."
The moment the words left her mouth, the golden coin exploded.
The force threw her back, slamming her into the chair. The entire chamber shuddered, as if the very world around them had just shifted.
The Seven Sin Lords stood.
And for the first time, Liora saw something flicker in their expressions.
Surprise.
And beneath it—
Recognition.
The ember-eyed Lord was the first to move.
He stepped toward her, slow and deliberate, his gaze burning into hers.
Liora's pulse raced.
"You are brave," he murmured. "Foolish, but brave."
She didn't move. Didn't breathe.
He reached out—
And placed something cold and heavy in her palm.
Liora looked down.
It was a chain.
A piece of a crown.
A forgotten memory screamed in her bones.
And suddenly, she wasn't sitting at the table anymore.
She was somewhere else.
Somewhere dark.
Somewhere burning.
A throne stood before her, shattered and crumbling, wreathed in shadow.
And in the distance—
A voice whispered her real name.
A name she had long since forgotten.
But the Seven Sin Lords had not.
And now, neither had she.
Liora never wanted a throne.
She never wanted to be part of this world.
But the past had never forgotten her—
And now, it was coming to claim its lost heir.
Liora's lungs burned as she stumbled back into the present—or whatever reality this was. The shattered vision of the throne, the voice whispering her true name, still clung to her mind like smoke.
She gripped the chain in her palm, its metal too cold, too heavy for something so small.
Across the table, the Seven Sin Lords watched her in silence.
Then—
The ember-eyed Lord smiled. "You heard it, didn't you?"
Liora's stomach twisted.
Her voice came out hoarse. "What—what was that?"
A hum. "A memory. Or perhaps, a warning." He leaned forward slightly. "You truly don't remember, do you?"
Liora clenched her jaw. "Remember what?"
The woman with ink-black nails exhaled, almost disappointed. "The war. The betrayal. Your kingdom."
Liora's fingers dug into the chain. "That kingdom—" She shook her head. "That's not mine."
The ember-eyed Lord only laughed. "Oh, but it is."
Something in the air shifted.
The chain in her palm pulsed, a slow, faint heartbeat against her skin.
Liora swallowed hard. "Then tell me."
The ember-eyed Lord's smirk deepened. "No."
Liora's breath hitched.
He tilted his head, watching her with something dangerously close to amusement. "If you want the truth, you'll have to earn it."
A roar of frustration built in her chest. "Then why bring me here? What do you want from me?"
The Sin Lords exchanged glances.
And then, the ember-eyed Lord leaned back. "A bargain."
Liora's pulse skipped.
"Another one?" she snapped.
"Of course," the woman with ink-black nails purred. "That's how we play, little heir."
Liora hated that word. Heir.
She wasn't an heir to anything.
But the chain in her palm disagreed.
The ember-eyed Lord lifted his hand. A flick of his fingers, and something appeared on the table.
A contract.
Liora's throat went dry.
"Sign it," he said smoothly. "And we'll give you what you seek."
Liora stared at the parchment.
She knew better.
Nothing with these people came without a cost.
"What's the price?" she demanded.
The ember-eyed Lord's gaze flickered. "That depends."
The woman with ink-black nails leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. "The contract is simple. You work for us—you do what we ask, when we ask - and in return, we help you regain your throne."
Liora's breath stalled.
"My what?"
A chuckle. "Your throne," the ember-eyed Lord repeated. "Your birthright. Your kingdom."
A slow, sick feeling crawled up her spine.
He was lying.
He had to be.
But the chain in her palm pulsed again—like it remembered something she didn't.
Liora exhaled sharply. "And if I refuse?"
The ember-eyed Lord smiled.
And every single candle in the room went out at once.
Darkness crashed over her.
Liora's heartbeat thundered.
A single voice slithered through the blackness - whispering in her ear.
"Then you will never wake up."
Her breath caught.
She wasn't real.
She had read the letter. She had seen the words. You are not real.
A cold dread wrapped around her ribs.
She was trapped.
And the only way out…
Was to sign the deal.
The contract seemed to glow in the darkness.
Liora's hand trembled as she reached for it.
She shouldn't do this.
She should fight.
But the chain in her palm was heavy.
The ember-eyed Lord's voice curled around her, smooth as silk. "A wise choice."
The moment her fingers brushed the paper—
Something inside her shattered.
A name - her real name - flashed through her mind, but it was gone before she could grasp it.
The Seven Sin Lords smiled.
"Welcome home," the ember-eyed Lord murmured.
The ink on the contract bled into her skin.
And just like that—
Liora was no longer free.
She had signed the contract.
She had made her choice.
But she had no idea what she had just agreed to.
The ink burned as it seeped into her skin.
Liora flinched, instinctively yanking her hand away, but it was too late. The contract vanished the moment she touched it—sinking into her flesh, leaving behind a mark carved in black ink on her wrist.
A sigil. Their sigil.
The chain in her palm pulsed again.
She wasn't free.
She had never been free.
The ember-eyed Lord leaned back, satisfied. "It is done."
Liora's pulse roared in her ears. "What did I just sign?"
The woman with ink-black nails laughed softly. "You agreed to serve us, little heir." Her lips curled. "Did you think you were going to be the one in charge?"
A horrible realization crept through Liora's veins.
She hadn't signed away her soul.
She had signed away her will.
Something cold and unseen coiled around her wrist, tightening like shackles.
A leash.
A shift in the air.
The Seven Sin Lords rose in unison, their presence towering over her like living shadows.
The ember-eyed Lord flicked his fingers. "Follow."
Liora's body moved against her will.
She gasped, her legs stepping forward before her mind could protest.
The leash wasn't metaphorical.
They could control her.
Panic clawed up her throat, but she swallowed it down. Now wasn't the time to fight. She needed to understand what she had just walked into.
The Lords led her through a dark corridor, their figures silent and graceful, like predators moving through their domain.
They stepped through an arched doorway—
And suddenly, they weren't in the chamber anymore.
Liora stumbled.
The corridor was gone.
She was somewhere else.
A city stretched before her.
But it wasn't like any city she had ever seen.
The sky was a swirling mass of black and crimson, the buildings towering like ancient monoliths carved from stone and metal. Strange, glowing runes flickered on every surface, pulsing like veins beneath the skin of the world.
And the people—
Hundreds, thousands of people moved through the streets, all dressed in dark, flowing attire, their eyes flickering with inhuman light.
Some had horns.
Some had wings.
Some had no faces at all.
Liora's breath hitched.
"What is this place?" she whispered.
The ember-eyed Lord stepped beside her.
"This, little heir," he murmured, "is the Kingdom of Shadows."
Liora's blood ran cold.
This wasn't just a domain.
It was a throne waiting to be taken.
And every single person in this city—
Was waiting for their lost ruler to return.
The Seven Sin Lords led her through the streets.
People stopped and stared.
Whispers coiled through the air, their voices an eerie mix of reverence and suspicion.
She caught fragments of them—
"Is it really her?"
"The lost one—she survived?"
"She shouldn't be here. She was supposed to be dead."
Liora's skin crawled.
This wasn't just a kingdom.
This was her kingdom.
And she had no memory of it.
She clenched her fists. "Tell me the truth."
The ember-eyed Lord glanced at her.
"You already know it," he said smoothly.
Liora ground her teeth. "No riddles. No games." She turned to him, eyes blazing. "Who was I before?"
A pause.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"You," he murmured, "were our queen."
The world tilted beneath her feet.
Her heart stopped.
"No," she whispered. "That's not—"
A sharp ache split through her skull.
Memories fought to surface.
A throne room drenched in blood.
A hand reaching for hers—only to be swallowed by darkness.
A crown slipping from her head as the world burned around her.
Liora's knees buckled, and the ember-eyed Lord caught her before she collapsed.
"Careful," he whispered. "We wouldn't want you to remember everything too fast. That would be… dangerous."
Liora's vision swam.
Her whole life - her entire existence - was a lie.
She wasn't an orphan.
She wasn't just some girl plucked from the mortal world.
She was a queen.
A ruler who had been erased.
And now, she was back.
The Seven Sin Lords had made sure of it.
She had wanted the truth.
She had demanded the truth.
But now that she had it—
She wasn't sure she would survive it.