The music of the royal ballroom pulsed in the air—violins and harps weaving melodies across glittering chandeliers and gilded walls. Nobles danced beneath the golden arches, laughing behind feathered fans, masks of civility veiling schemes and ambition.
But Serina Elowen was not here to dance.
She stood by the long marble table near the center of the ballroom, her posture elegant, her expression composed. A light-blue gown clung to her curves, silver embroidery shimmering like frost in the candlelight. Jewels sparkled at her neck—tokens borrowed from the duchess's vault—and her pale brown hair was braided into a soft crown.
She looked like a noble daughter, untouched by war or betrayal.
But inside, her mind was sharp as a dagger.
Her eyes followed Princess Seraphina Lyselle.
The princess walked with effortless grace through the crowd, exchanging greetings and polite bows. Her dress, a flowing lilac silk with intricate gold embroidery along the hem, moved like starlight. Her beauty wasn't the kind that faded into the crowd—it captured attention and demanded respect. But her expression… it was unreadable.
Cool. Quiet. Regal.
Until her gaze found Serina's.
Their eyes met.
And for a breathless second, everything else fell away.
Serina felt her throat tighten. There was no hatred in Seraphina's gaze, no false warmth either. Just curiosity. And something deeper, almost unreadable. As if she were trying to piece together a puzzle no one else even noticed.
The princess gave her the smallest nod.
Serina returned it, heart pounding.
"Interesting, isn't she?" a voice murmured from beside her.
Serina turned her head to see Lady Mirell, a baron's daughter with a habit for gossip and a tongue as sharp as a sword.
"Who?" Serina asked lightly, keeping her tone disinterested.
"The princess," Mirell said, sipping her wine. "Rumors say she's come back to the capital to prepare for a political marriage. But if you ask me"—she leaned in conspiratorially—"she doesn't seem too thrilled about any suitor, including Prince Lucian."
Serina gave a small smile. "Perhaps she's waiting for someone more… worthy."
Mirell laughed. "If such a person exists."
As the evening wore on, Serina made her rounds. She spoke with nobles, curtsied to ministers, and accepted compliments with a gracious smile. But all the while, she could feel the princess's eyes on her from across the room.
And when the final song began, soft and slow—a waltz meant for whispered secrets—Serina prepared to excuse herself.
Until she heard a voice behind her.
"Lady Elowen."
She turned.
Princess Seraphina stood before her, hands clasped before her gown, posture perfect. Up close, her presence was even more commanding. She was taller than Serina remembered. Or maybe it was just the way she held herself—with the calm authority of someone used to being obeyed.
Serina bowed deeply. "Your Highness."
"I hoped we might speak." The princess extended her hand.
Serina hesitated—only for a heartbeat—then placed her gloved hand in Seraphina's.
The contact was light.
But it sent a jolt of awareness through her.
The two stepped onto the floor, and the waltz began.
They danced in silence at first, moving in perfect rhythm. Whispers rippled across the room as the crowd turned to watch. Two noble daughters dancing—unexpected, but not unheard of.
But this wasn't for spectacle.
There was tension in the air. An unspoken exchange.
"You've been gaining quite a bit of attention lately," the princess said finally, her voice low and measured. "Especially from my brother."
"I find it difficult to avoid attention when it insists on finding me," Serina replied, her tone polite, edged with subtle defiance.
Seraphina's lips quirked. "And yet, you look comfortable under scrutiny."
"Comfortable, no," Serina said, eyes lifting to meet the princess's. "Prepared? Always."
A pause.
Then the princess asked, "Do you love him?"
Serina blinked. The question hit harder than expected. Her grip on the princess's hand tightened slightly.
"No," she said simply.
Seraphina searched her expression. "Good."
The dance ended.
They stopped, still close. The room seemed to exhale around them. Murmurs resumed, but neither moved immediately.
"May I send for you sometime?" the princess asked.
Serina's heart fluttered.
"You may."
As Seraphina turned to walk away, Serina stood motionless, trying to still the storm inside her chest.
This was dangerous.
But she had a new goal now.
And it wasn't just revenge.