The wind drifted lazily from Zareth's balcony, carrying with it the crisp bite of night air. It slipped into the chamber like an intruder, teasing loose strands of Serenya's hair—the very ones Zareth had braided earlier. They brushed against her cheek in ticklish wisps, refusing to stay in place, much like her own restless heart.
Her grip tightened around the silver cutlery, her knuckles paling. She glared at Zareth, the weight of her frustration simmering in her chest.
"No," she muttered firmly, raising the crystal goblet to her lips and taking a sip of water which made his eyes darken. The cool liquid was a welcome contrast to the heat creeping across her neck, a reminder of the mark she could never erase.
Zareth leaned back lazily in his chair, a predator cloaked in silk and shadows. The corner of his lips quirked upward, sharp and unbearably smug.
"Fine. Suit yourself," he said smoothly, as though her defiance amused him rather than denied him. His voice dripped with sarcasm, the kind that made her cheeks burn.
Shameless man ! , Serenya thought bitterly, stabbing another piece of food with unnecessary force and shoving it into her mouth. He was the sort of man who treated arrogance as if it were a crown.
But Zareth didn't appear offended. He was watching her—always watching her—as though every twitch, every shift of her gaze, every breath belonged to him already.
"Tomorrow," he said casually, lifting his goblet of crimson liquid with one hand, his thumb brushing the rim before he took a sip, "you begin your training to become my Empress."
The words made her hand falter. Her fork nearly clattered against her plate. Right, she nodded.
Before she could retreat, he caught her wrist and brought it to his lips. His mouth brushed the back of her hand in a fleeting kiss, a shock of warmth against her skin. Serenya's eyes widened, startled by the intimate gesture, her breath catching traitorously.
Zareth didn't release her. Instead, his gaze deepened, locking onto her face like a vice. "How amusing," he drawled, his voice low, dark, and dangerously knowing, "that your heart already beats so loud at the smallest of touches."
Serenya pulled her hand back, putting iton her laps. Her lips parted in protest, but her words faltered. "It might've been because of the wind," she blurted hastily.
As soon as the excuse left her lips, she regretted it. What kind of foolish thing was that to say?, Ah! How she wished she could vanish right now.
Zareth's laughter filled the air—low, husky, rich with mockery. "The wind, is it? My poor little dove, how desperate you are to convince yourself of lies." His eyes glinted as he leaned closer. "Don't worry. I believe you ".
Serenya bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, she dabbed her lips with the napkin and pushed back her chair, standing abruptly.
"I'll go back to my room," she said quickly, eager to escape.
But the moment she tried to bolt, Zareth's hand shot out like a steel trap, curling around her wrist once more. His grip was possessive, unyielding.
"Going so soon?" he murmured, his smirk widening. "Let's take a walk before you sleep. I wouldn't want my Empress getting a bump on her delicate stomach from eating and lying down too quickly."
Serenya rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply with a small smile on her lips. The man was unbearable, always finding ways to bend even the most ordinary advice into an opportunity to exert his dominance. Still, his words made something tight coil in her chest, because beneath the sarcasm lay a thread of care she didn't dare acknowledge.
---
Meanwhile, in the chambers across the palace halls, Maltheira's patience wore thin. She had returned to her chambers with her daughters, but hunger clawed at her insides like a feral beast.
"Go and check if the princess is awake," she snapped at a servant , her tone clipped with irritation.
The servant bowed quickly and scurried off, skirts rustling against the polished floors. Maltheira clenched her jaw, her sharp nails digging into her palms as her stomach growled audibly.
Her daughters entered not long after, their expressions mirroring her frustration.
"Mother," Sorrelith hissed, her crimson eyes flashing with annoyance, "we can't continue to starve just because the princess is still sleeping!" She clenched her fists at her sides, her impatience bordering on fury.
Velmira, tilted her head. "I saw the royal chef and several servants carrying food… What if…" Her voice lowered into suspicion. "What if the Emperor has already dined—with her?"
Maltheira's eyes snapped open, burning with fury. Her red irises glowed like embers.
"He better didn't," she spat, her voice a hiss of venom. Without another word, she stormed from the chamber, her daughters hurrying after her like shadows.
Their steps echoed in the grand hallway until they reached the Emperor's private wing. Two guards stood rigidly before the gilded doors, spears crossed to form a barrier.
Maltheira narrowed her eyes. "What do you think you're doing, stopping me from seeing my own nephew?" She lifted her chin, her voice laced with authority.
The guards bowed, but neither moved aside. "Forgive us, my lady. But the Emperor has commanded that no one cross this threshold tonight—not even family."
Velmira's face hardened. She stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Do you dare stop me? The Emperor would be furious if he found out you denied me. You both know I am not someone he jokes with."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances. It was true—Velmira had long been the Emperor's favored cousin or so . But his order was clear, and disobedience to him meant certain death. They held their ground.
"I'm sorry, milady," they repeated firmly, lowering their heads but keeping their stance.
Maltheira's lips pressed into a thin line. Rage seethed in her chest, but before she could unleash it, she heard footsteps approaching.
Zareth emerged, tall and commanding, every inch the Emperor cloaked in black regality. Serenya was beside him, her hand captured securely in his grasp as though he were parading her deliberately.
The crooked smile that touched Zareth's lips when he spotted his aunt and cousins was a blade in disguise. "Ah, looks like my dear aunt has something urgent to say."
Maltheira stiffened. "Why would you forbid your family to enter? What if something happened to you? We would have to rush in to save you—because we are your family."
Zareth chuckled, dark and humorless. "My, what a protective aunt I have." His voice dripped with mockery. Then his gaze slid to Serenya, his thumb brushing an escaped strand of hair from her face. His touch lingered deliberately, sending a flush to her cheeks. "But you needn't worry. The only family I have here is my little dove… my Empress-to-be."
Serenya's heart stuttered in her chest. She felt three pairs of crimson eyes burn into her at once, daggers of jealousy and disdain cutting deep. She wanted to disappear, to fade into the shadows, but Zareth's touch dragged her into the spotlight.
Maltheira swallowed her anger, her lips curving into a brittle smile. "If you don't mind, perhaps we may finally have dinner together. Velmira has something to share with you—a new skill she invented."
Velmira stepped forward, lowering her lashes demurely, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was shy, practiced. But Zareth's eyes didn't even flicker in her direction.
"I'm sure she has," he said flatly. "Unfortunately, Serenya and I have already dined. We wished for no disturbances."
"You… you had dinner already?!" Sorrelith's voice cracked into a shriek before she forced it down, pasting a coy smile onto her lips. "I mean—your Imperial Majesty, we have been waiting patiently, only to discover you dined without us?"
Zareth arched a brow, his voice dripping venom. "Are you deaf, Lith? Goodness, don't tell me your ears are failing you already."
Sorrelith's face burned with humiliation, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Zareth's words left her utterly speechless.
Maltheira bristled, her voice carefully restrained. "Didn't Cassian tell you that we were waiting to dine with you?"
Zareth gave a long, dramatic sigh, then turned to Serenya, his crimson eyes glittering with mischief. "Tell me, little dove… do you think my aunt is deaf as well?"
Every gaze turned sharply toward her. Serenya froze, panic bubbling in her chest. She wanted to glare at him, to refuse to play his games, but his expectant stare pinned her in place.
"U-umm…" she stammered, biting her lip. "I… I guess."
Maltheira's eyes narrowed dangerously.
Zareth's crooked smile spread wider. "You see? Even my dove agrees."
Serenya wanted to sink into the floor. This man was throwing her right under the carriage when all she wants is to live peacefully!. Annoying. He had a talent for driving her straight under the axe while he stood there smirking like a devil.
"Now, if you'll excuse us," Zareth said smoothly, tightening his grip on Serenya's hand as though to remind them she was his. He was about to lead her away when Velmira suddenly stepped forward, her lips curved in a practiced, sweet smile.
"I ate some fruit earlier," she said softly, "so I'm not hungry. I could join you for your walk instead."
Maltheira's eyes lit with approval. "Of course. I'm sure Zareth wouldn't mind."
Serenya's gaze snapped to Zareth, searching for his reaction. His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement, as though savoring her unease.
He tilted his head toward her, his smirk widening. "Well, little dove? Do you mind? If you don't wish it, she won't come."
Every eye fell on Serenya again. Velmira's smile was tight, forced, but insistent.
Serenya swallowed hard. The weight of expectation pressed down on her shoulders. She glanced at Velmira, then at Zareth, who was waiting, his expression full of mocking patience.
"I… don't," she said finally, her voice quiet but clear.
Velmira smiled in triumph and stepped to Zareth's other side. Zareth's chuckle rumbled low in his chest. "Fine by me," he murmured, his smirk sharp as a blade.
Serenya's heart twisted. This man—this unbearable, narcissistic Emperor—was determined to drive her mad.