Chapter Text
“Hello, welcome to The Hollow. How can I help you?” Liana asked, her voice like the chime of silver bells, her hands rhythmically rolling a soft cloth over the polished cherrywood table.
The inn hummed with quiet magic — glowing lanterns floated just below the ceiling, whispering stories into the dusk. The Hollow was a place made from dreams and stardust, or so travelers claimed. Liana supposed it was true. Her parents, after all, were not ordinary people. They were legends.
Her mother, Evangeline, once known across the continent as the girl who married a prince, then falsely accused of his murder, had enchanted this inn with her laughter and light. And her father, Jacks, the infamous ex-Prince of Hearts, had filled it with enchantments stitched into every wall. Together, they had turned The Hollow into something people journeyed across kingdoms to visit.
Liana dreamed of love like her parents. Sometimes Liana would watch her parents when they thought no one was looking. The way her Father would press a kiss to her mother's temple like she was his favorite prayer. The way her mother would touch his wrist, grounding him — always soft, always steady — like even immortality needed reminding of its heart
When Liana was six, the inn had to be expanded because of the number of guests flooding in, waiting for a chance to stay a night at this magical inn.
“Greetings! My fiancé and I would like a room for tonight,” said a woman, practically bouncing on her heels. “We’ll be exploring today and returning around midnight — we just want to make sure we have a room secured.”
“Of course! I’ll get that set up for you—” Liana began, but stopped mid-sentence when she noticed the woman and her fiancé were completely distracted.
Butter and Tabby — the inn’s miniature golden dragons- were twirling around their heads, letting out high-pitched purrs and curling their ribbon-like tails around their shoulders.
Liana smiled. The dragons always stole the spotlight.
She fiddled with the rose-gold ring on her finger, its gemstone flickering faintly, as if it knew she was thinking of her mother.
“Sweetheart,” came a voice like rose petals and warmth. Her mother’s arms wrapped gently around her from behind.
“Mother,” Liana whispered, tilting her head back into her mother’s shoulder.
Evangeline looked like the ending of a fairytale, her dusky rose gown flowed like liquid blush, and her matching rose-gold hair shimmered in loose waves that framed her kind, heart-shaped face. Only one of the four Fox children had inherited that magical hair — little Odette, with her riot of pale-pink curls that Liana secretly envied more than she'd ever admit. The rest of the three looked like their Father, golden hair, blue eyes, pale skin.
“Have you packed?” her mother asked softly.
Liana nodded.
“Everything?”
Another nod.
Evangeline smiled, but her eyes were glassy. “Go eat something, my love. I’ll double-check the trunks and take care of the guests.”
“Okay, Mother.” Liana pressed a kiss to her cheek before hurrying off toward the buffet, trailing the scent of wildflowers and cinnamon.
The Hollow’s dining room glittered with soft candlelight, the long tables groaning with platters of ever-changing food. Here, the dishes shifted with your mood: a plate of lemon tarts if you were homesick, melting cheese bread for excitement, and delicate pastries that tasted like first love if you were feeling wistful.
Liana didn’t stay long. Soon, the sun was already lowering, the sky melting into honeyed gold as the lake beyond the dock shimmered like glass.
Her father stood waiting, his coat unbuttoned, wind tousling his golden curls. He held her travel trunks with one hand, and with the other, he rested a steady palm on her shoulder.
Behind them, her younger siblings gathered. Odette shoved a slightly burnt muffin into Liana’s hands with a hopeful, sticky smile. Rowan offered a sharp nod and a mumbled goodbye, pretending he hadn’t been waiting all day to see her off. And Oren clung to her leg like a stubborn vine.
Nearby, Lyric Valor was saying his goodbyes. His mother, Lala, tiptoed to kiss both his cheeks despite his quiet protests, leaving lipstick marks on his sharp cheekbones. His father, Chaos, was a storm in tailored black, murmuring instructions like they were sending Lyric to war.
Valenda. The City of Silver Masks. Of floating lights, impossible bargains, and magic that didn’t ask permission.
Liana and Lyric had been born just days apart, both under winter stars, and ever since they were small, they’d made the same birthday wish: to see Valenda together. This year, the year of their seventeenth birthday, their parents had finally relented. However, it hadn’t been easy.
Her father had been the most resistant.
He hadn’t shouted or forbade her, no. Liana had noticed the hesitation in her father's voice when he first heard the idea. Lyric had said his parents were acting odd, too, overly careful.
But it didn’t matter now. They were going.
We were going for one month, but since the boat took two weeks there and back, it was about two.
Liana hugged each sibling tightly — even Rowan, who wrinkled his nose but didn’t pull away. She turned to her mother, whose eyes were already brimming with tears.
“Oh, Mother,” Liana giggled through her blur of emotion.
“I love you,” Her Mother whispered, clutching her like she was made of sugar.
“I love you, too.”
Finally, she faced her father.
He set down the trunks. His smile was lopsided and tired in a way that made her chest ache.
“Have the best time, darling,” he said, pulling her into a fierce, unexpected hug.
Then, just before she could pull back, he leaned close, his voice cool and hushed against her ear.
“Don’t go too near the Royal Family,” he murmured. “They have a vendetta against us.”
“What—?” Liana pulled back, startled. But before she could ask anything more, Lyric was already waving from the ship, gesturing wildly.
Her Father had stepped away.
And so, with her heart pounding and her thoughts a mess of excitement and confusion, Liana gave a final wave to Lala and Chaos, then let Lyric drag her up the gangway and into the unknown.
Valenda was waiting.