A castle that is a tree. A king who speaks to plants. Two children born the same day: a prince in the spotlight, a girl of the roots whom no one names.
They meet by chance in the lower galleries. They invent a song in two voices. She opens a flower with a simple chant — no formula, no ritual. The court separates them. The palace grows, the floors multiply, carillons replace words: each sound has a code, no more room for the melody they had shared.
He leaves to find a bride and finds only the same dream — a faceless song that haunts him. She stays below, and sings for the living wood in secret, despite the ban. Until the day the castle awakens, and the voices rise again.
Carillon is the story of a stolen brotherhood, of a power that is passed on otherwise than by blood, and of a palace that chooses no longer to stay alone. A tale where the forest has a memory, where roots carry the songs — and where the truth finally rises.