Seris stood over the stack of scrolls, her fingers trembling with fury. The dim candlelight flickered over the wax seals—each one bearing the Eastern serpent, each one more damning than the last. Letters offering her death, her betrayal, her dismantling as if she were a chess piece to be removed. Not one—not one—had been shared with her.
She unrolled a message addressed to Rhemar.
> "She is powerful, yes. But arrogance makes all fire predictable. Fan her flame, let her burn brightly. Then drown her in shadows. The people will not rise for a fallen ember."
Seris crushed the parchment in her fist.
They planned to use her. Parade her victories, then turn the blade when she was alone, spent, and surrounded by poisoned loyalty.
But they had made a mistake.
They forgot what happens when a flame learns to smolder in silence.
---
The Next Morning – A Calm Mask
Seris arrived at the High Council chamber draped in silver and red, her sword sheathed at her hip, her expression unreadable. The councillors rose with polite nods, and she returned each with a measured smile.
They believed she was still in the dark. That she was beginning to doubt Kael, that the seed Veira planted had taken root.
They didn't know she was already building her garden of knives.
---
That Night – Kael's Quarters
The room was lit only by the glow of a single enchanted crystal, casting a soft amber hue across the walls. Kael was sharpening his blade when the door opened—and Seris entered without a word.
Her robe was deep crimson, tied at the waist, clinging to her curves like second skin. Her eyes glowed—not with rage, but with smoldering purpose.
He stood slowly. "You found something."
"I found everything," she said.
She crossed the room, grabbed the whetstone from his hand, and dropped it to the floor.
"They've planned my fall. Since the day I returned. And they think they're still ahead of me." Her voice dropped as she reached for his collar, undoing it with deft fingers. "But I don't play their games. I rewrite them."
Kael's breath hitched as she pushed him back against the table.
"And I need you," she whispered, her lips brushing his jaw. "Tonight, I need to feel alive. I need to feel you."
His hands gripped her waist as she climbed onto the table, straddling him. Their mouths met—no hesitation, no fear. Just heat.
She pulled his tunic free, fingers skimming across the hard muscle of his chest. He pushed her robe open slowly, reverently, as though undressing a goddess. Her skin shivered beneath his touch.
Their bodies collided with growing urgency—hips grinding, breath mingling, lips trailing fire across collarbones, shoulders, thighs. Kael kissed the inside of her knee, then up her thigh, worshiping the scar that traced along her hip. Her moans were soft, then louder, her hands gripping his hair as he teased her with mouth and tongue, slow and steady, until she trembled beneath him.
When he entered her, it was with a groan that matched hers—full, deep, claiming. She wrapped her legs around him, arching into his every thrust. They moved together like two parts of a blade—sharp, fluid, devastating.
The table creaked under their rhythm, the room filled with the raw sound of skin meeting skin, of passion echoing off stone and glass.
Her nails raked down his back, and he kissed her fiercely—forehead to forehead—as she came apart in his arms, crying out his name.
He followed, releasing with a shudder that seemed to shake the very walls.
And then silence, sweet and breathless, as they collapsed into each other.
She whispered into his ear, voice still heavy with want, "We burn tonight… and tomorrow, we strike."
---
The Following Days – Seris's Secret Moves
Seris began to play the perfect role.
She met with the council, accepted their feigned concern, and acted like a loyal weapon. She issued no protest when asked to delay her patrols. She smiled at Veira. She saluted Rhemar.
But behind the scenes…
—She rallied three loyal captains.
—She forged coded letters to the resistance leaders in the Southern isles.
—She contacted the Ironwing Tribe through underground messengers.
—She gave Kael her trust, and in return, he provided her with the names of the mercenaries Rhemar had quietly hired to replace her guard.
In seven days, the trap would be set.
In eight, the council would either kneel… or bleed.
---