The moon cast long, slanted shadows across the palace halls as Seraphina moved with deliberate care. Every step away from Alaric felt like reclaiming a piece of herself, no matter how small. Even the rustle of her silks in the still air felt like resistance.
Since her awakening, she had made certain to keep distance between them — polite, unassailable distance. Nothing so overt as to draw suspicion. Nothing he could point to and twist into a game. But in every choice, every gesture, she wove her defiance like thread through the fabric of her days.
When he reached for her at night, she pleaded exhaustion.
When he brushed his fingers down her arm during the day, she shifted away under the guise of busy schedules and court obligations.
Touching him, even in passing, curdled something inside her.
There were moments — dangerous, trembling moments — where she could have driven a dagger between his ribs and ended the farce then and there. But Seraphina was not a fool.
Not yet.
Not when the court remained a den of smiling liars and sharpened knives.
Not when the walls themselves had ears.
Each step further into the gallery brought a new tide of memories. The last time she had walked these halls, she'd been draped in crimson, her arm hooked through Alaric's as nobles bowed and whispered. Now, she moved like a shadow, untouchable and unseen, claiming her silence as armor. She traced the mosaic beneath her feet—a winding river of flame and lilies—and remembered how her mother once said it symbolized peace through power. Seraphina had never understood what that meant until now.
No, she would not be remembered as another victim in a long line of forgotten consorts. She would be patient. She would make him unravel himself in front of them all.
She needed allies first. She needed power built not on whispered promises, but on stone. She needed to outplay them.
And when the moment came, she would not simply sever the rot.
She would burn it all down.
Later that night, Seraphina sat stiffly at the edge of their shared bedchamber, the fire casting restless shadows across the walls.
She had hoped exhaustion and coldness would keep Alaric away, but she saw it in his eyes the moment he crossed the threshold — the expectation, the hunger masked as tenderness.
He approached slowly, all practiced charm and quiet possessiveness, fingers trailing along the carved bedpost as he circled toward her.
"Come to bed, my love," he said, voice low, coaxing.
For one brief, dangerous heartbeat, Seraphina considered reaching for the dagger hidden in her robe's folds.
But she could not risk it. Not yet. Not until the pieces were in place.
She forced a smile that tasted like ash.
The scent of his breath—mulled wine, clove, and lies—washed over her. Her fingers curled slightly against the silk at her side, the hidden dagger a whisper against her skin. Not yet, she reminded herself. Timing would be everything. Power was not taken in chaos. It was earned in bloodless victories, stacked quietly in corners until the tower toppled under its own weight.
She kissed him back — just enough. Enough to keep his suspicions dormant.
Inside, she screamed.
Every touch of his mouth against hers felt like oil on raw skin.
Every caress of his hands down her arms, her waist, her back, ignited the kind of rage that begged for blood.
She lay back when he urged her, felt the mattress dip under his weight.
His hand slid along her side, claiming, exploring.
When his mouth trailed down her neck, she bit down on the rising bile.
She thought of the child she would never bear, the empire they had tried to rip from her hands, the pyre that had devoured her screams.
Endure it, she told herself, teeth gritted behind a smile.
Endure it because the end will be worth it.
Endure it because soon, he will beg for mercy and find none.
He moved to climb atop her — and then stilled.
Alaric pulled back, frowning.
"You're trembling," he murmured, brushing a hand against her cheek. "And you're pale."
Seraphina lowered her gaze, letting the false exhaustion seep into her limbs.
"I—I'm tired," she said, voice thin and shaking — not entirely from the act.
He studied her for a moment longer, suspicion flickering behind his eyes.
Then he sighed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, then her forehead.
"Rest, my love," he said, standing. "There are... matters that require my attention."
He did not meet her eyes as he adjusted his cloak and slipped from the room — no doubt fleeing to Evelyne's waiting arms.
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Seraphina rose from the bed in a sudden, violent motion.
She tore off her robe, shoving it into the hearth where it caught flame instantly — like a funeral for what she had endured.
In the bathing chamber, she scrubbed herself until her skin burned raw — shoulders, neck, arms, everywhere his hands had wandered.
The water ran hot, and then hotter still, until steam blurred the mirrors and scalded her lungs.
No matter how fiercely she scrubbed, the filth clung to her mind more stubbornly than to her skin.
The room was spinning, heat warping her vision as shadows crawled along the ceiling. The girl who had once danced in these chambers, had laughed in soft silks and dreamed of books and scrolls—where had she gone? Burned. Reduced. Reborn. There was no room left in her for softness. Not tonight.
There would come a day when Alaric Vessant would know what it felt like to be powerless.
And when he begged — when he finally understood —
She would not stay his execution with mercy.
Outside, the wind shifted.
She stepped out onto the balcony, towel wrapped tightly around her body, skin still damp and angry from scrubbing. Below, the gardens rustled softly in the moonlight.
Somewhere beyond the hedge maze, she knew the foxes of court were slinking into shadows, spinning new plots. Somewhere out there, Evelyne whispered sweet poison into Alaric's ear. But here, high above them, Seraphina stood alone.
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, there was only steel in her gaze.
Let them plan.
Let them circle.
She would not hide. She would not yield.
Let them all come.
She would be ready.