The fire-scars under Seraphina's sleeves burned steady as she watched Alaric read his morning letters. Two days since Yona dropped the bomb about her bloodline. Two months until the seventh moon deadline. Three impossible journeys that would either complete her awakening or kill her.
She had the solution. It came to her during another sleepless night, listening to Alaric pace in his chambers next door. The man had been wound tight since the previous days' revelations, circling her like a predator planning his move.
D'Lorien estate. Her family's empty ancestral home.
Perfect base for the sanctuaries. Perfect excuse to get there. She just needed the right lie.
"I've been thinking about the anniversary." She set down her teacup, let real grief color her voice. Strategic manipulation worked best when you mixed truth with lies.
Alaric looked up immediately. His attention had been laser-focused on her for two days. Touching her more. Standing closer. Building up to something he hadn't achieved yet.
"Anniversary?"
"My parents' deaths. Eight years next week." The pain was real. The timing was convenient. "I need to visit the estate for memorial preparations."
She watched him process this. Duty versus desire. Public image versus private wants. Alaric always calculated before responding.
"When?"
"Day after tomorrow." She reached across to touch his hand. Calculated contact. "The stewards wrote about problems. Ritual candles not ordered. Family crypts needing consecration. Garden overgrowth."
Her fingers pressed against his knuckles. Gentle dependency. "Only the heir can handle the ancestral protocols properly."
His mouth tightened. She could see him weighing options, trying to find angles to minimize her absence or maximize his control.
"That seems... extensive for memorial preparations." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Surely most arrangements could be handled through correspondence?"
Strategic resistance. Exactly what she'd expected. Time to double down.
"The family protocols require heir presence," she said, letting vulnerability creep in. "The blessing of crypts, consecration rituals. Eight years of neglect has consequences I can't address from here."
"How long would you be gone?"
"A month. Maybe longer if the estate matters are complicated." She met his eyes directly, vulnerable but determined in a way that made his chest tighten. "I know it's significant time. The court will need your steady hand managing everything alone."
The ego stroke worked perfectly - his posture straightened reflexively.
"The court isn't my concern." His thumb traced her knuckles with clear intent. "I'll miss you."
There it was. The admission that revealed how invested he'd become in whatever he thought was building between them.
"I'll miss you too." She reached up, cupped his cheek with her free hand. The intimate touch made his eyes flutter closed for a heartbeat. Just enough warmth to satisfy him. Just enough distance to maintain her grief excuse. "But this is family obligation. Honor for the dead."
Tradition. Duty. The twin shields no reasonable husband could attack without looking callous.
"Of course your parents deserve proper commemoration." Reluctant but inevitable agreement. "The estate has been neglected too long."
She squeezed his hand gratefully. Perfect grateful wife performance. "Thank you for understanding. I know the timing isn't convenient."
Nothing about this timing was accident.
"Actually," his voice gained intensity, "we should make the most of our remaining time..."
His fingers pressed more firmly against hers.
Predictable. He'd been building toward this for days. One last intimate night before duty separated them. Mark his territory before distance created complications.
"I'd like that." Real-seeming warmth flooded her response. "Before obligation pulls us apart."
The lie burned her throat, but his satisfied smile proved it worked. He seemed pleased with the arrangement.
He leaned forward, captured her lips in a slow, tender kiss. Gentle pressure, genuine warmth. The kiss of a man who believed he was loved in return.
She pressed her lips to his, sealing the lie like a contract she had no intention of honoring.
"Then it's settled." He nodded with satisfaction. "You'll handle your family obligations properly."
"Day after tomorrow," she confirmed.
Her mind was already racing. Travel arrangements. Correspondence with the estate stewards. Selecting appropriate retinue for the journey.
Strategic planning would require careful coordination.
"I should start preparations." She rose gracefully. "Correspondence with stewards, travel arrangements, selecting appropriate staff..."
"Take whoever you need." Magnanimous husband supporting his wife's important work. "Yona and Liora seem capable."
More capable than you realize.
"They'll be invaluable for estate protocols." She leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Dutiful wife expressing gratitude.
His hand caught her wrist gently. Not restraining. Claiming. Reminder of ownership disguised as affection.
The promise hung between them like a blade in silk. He heard acceptance. Anticipation. Sweet compliance from a wife eager for attention before duty called.
One more performance to manage. One more careful balance between desire and obligation. Then she'd have the freedom to pursue the awakening that would save or destroy her.
The fire-scars pulsed quietly as she left him making his own preparations.
The Next Morning
Alaric woke with purpose coursing through his veins.
Today was the day. Tonight was the night.
He'd spent yesterday afternoon making arrangements. Cleared his entire evening schedule. Sent word that he wasn't to be disturbed after sunset. Even arranged for his personal valet to deliver dinner to Seraphina's chambers rather than the dining hall.
Privacy. Complete, uninterrupted privacy.
He stretched, already feeling anticipation building. Two days of careful restraint, watching her move with that newfound confidence, feeling the subtle shift in how she responded to his touches. Something had changed between them. Something promising.
Tonight, he'd explore exactly what that something was.
At breakfast, she looked radiant. Morning light caught the gold in her hair, and when she smiled at him over her teacup, warmth spread through his chest.
"Good morning." He leaned over to kiss her cheek, let his lips linger a moment longer than necessary.
"Good morning." Her voice carried that soft quality he'd been hearing more often lately. Like she actually enjoyed his attention.
Perfect.
"Sleep well?" He settled into his chair, already planning the day. Court sessions until noon, then a brief meeting with estate managers. Everything finished early so he could prepare properly for tonight.
"Very well, thank you." She buttered her bread with delicate precision. "I should spend the day finalizing travel arrangements. Writing to the estate stewards, packing appropriate mourning attire..."
Right. She was leaving tomorrow. Which made tonight even more critical.
"Of course. Take your time with preparations." He covered her hand with his. "I want everything perfect for you."
The double meaning hung in the air. She seemed to understand, a faint flush coloring her cheeks.
Excellent.
He finished breakfast quickly, eager to clear his schedule. Court duties felt tedious today, every meeting dragging when all he could think about was tonight. How he'd approach her. What he'd say. How she might respond.
The afternoon crawled by. He found himself checking the time repeatedly, impatience building with each passing hour.
Finally, as the sun began to set, he made his way to his chambers. Time to prepare properly.
He bathed with meticulous care. Selected his finest shirt, the one she'd once complimented. Applied cologne sparingly, enough to be noticed, not enough to overwhelm.
Then came the crucial decision.
From his locked drawer, he withdrew two small vials. Enhancement tonics, acquired discretely from an apothecary who specialized in such things. One for stamina, one for... performance quality.
He'd never needed such assistance before, but tonight felt too important to leave anything to chance. She'd been distant for so long, and now, finally, there were signs of warmth returning. He wanted to make absolutely certain the evening went perfectly.
Both vials went down smoothly. Bitter taste, but the effects would be worth it.
He checked his reflection one final time. Satisfied with what he saw, he selected a bottle of wine from his personal collection. Something special. Something to help her relax, to ease any lingering reservation she might have.
Everything was perfect.
He made his way through the corridors with confident steps, already imagining her smile when she saw the wine, the careful attention he'd given to every detail.
Tonight would change everything between them. Tonight would remind her why she'd fallen for him in the first place.
He knocked on her chamber door.
No answer.
"Seraphina?" He knocked again, louder this time.
Silence.
A cold finger of unease traced down his spine. She should be here. Getting ready for dinner, perhaps changing into something special for their evening together.
He tried the handle. Unlocked.
The room was empty.
Completely, utterly empty.
Her traveling trunks were gone. Her personal items cleared from the vanity. Even the books she usually kept on her bedside table had vanished.
On the desk sat a single piece of paper.
His hands shook slightly as he picked it up, the enhancement tonics already working through his system, making his pulse race for all the wrong reasons.
"Urgent matters at the estate required my immediate departure. The anniversary preparations proved more complex than anticipated. I couldn't wait for tomorrow's scheduled departure. Thank you for understanding. - S Kisses sent."
She was gone.
Already gone.
His carefully planned evening, his meticulous preparations, the tonics burning through his blood, all of it meaningless.
She'd left him.
Again.
He sank onto the edge of her bed, the wine bottle still clutched in one hand, his body responding to chemical stimulation while his mind reeled with the implications.
Had she known? Had she planned this? Or had she genuinely needed to leave early for estate matters?
The questions circled like vultures while the tonics continued their work, creating a physical need that now had no outlet, no resolution.
He was alone. Aroused. Frustrated beyond measure.
And she was already miles away, leaving him with nothing but an empty room and the echo of his own foolish expectations.
Alaric stared at the note, reading it again. And again.
Urgent matters. Couldn't wait.
The words felt wrong somehow. Too convenient. Too perfectly timed to avoid... what? Their planned evening? His growing attention?
He stood abruptly, pacing the empty chamber. The enhancement tonics made his thoughts race alongside his pulse. Made everything feel sharper, more urgent, more significant.
She'd seemed genuinely warm at breakfast. That soft smile, the way she'd responded to his kiss on her cheek. None of it felt performative. None of it suggested she was planning immediate departure.
Unless...
He stopped pacing. A memory surfaced - this morning at breakfast, the way her fingers had stilled for just a heartbeat when he'd mentioned wanting everything perfect. That micro-pause he'd dismissed as grief.
Now it felt like calculation.
Unless she'd been planning this all along. The anniversary excuse providing perfect cover. The grateful wife act masking strategic withdrawal.
No. He was overthinking this. The grief in her voice when she'd mentioned her parents had been real, the obligations she'd described were legitimate. Estate matters genuinely could require immediate attention, especially after eight years of minimal oversight.
But something about the timing bothered him.
His body burned with chemical need while his mind circled the possibilities, unable to settle on a single explanation that felt complete. She'd left hours ago. Was probably already at the D'Lorien estate, settling into her childhood chambers, preparing for memorial rites.
Alone.
The thought hit him with unexpected force. She was alone at an empty estate with only servants and whatever staff she'd taken. Vulnerable. Isolated. Possibly even missing him.
Maybe she'd regret leaving so abruptly. Maybe she was already questioning her hasty departure, wondering if she should have stayed for their planned evening.
Maybe he was being an idiot, standing here obsessing over note analysis when he could be with her.
The D'Lorien estate wasn't far. Two hours by fast horse, three by carriage. He could be there before midnight. Surprise her. Show her how much he'd missed her, how willing he was to support her family obligations.
How devoted he was to their marriage.
She might be touched by the gesture. Moved by his willingness to abandon court duties to be with her during this emotional time.
Or...
Or she might see it as intrusion. Possessive oversight disguised as support. The controlling husband who couldn't let his wife handle family matters independently.
Alaric sank back onto the bed, wine bottle forgotten.
Public perception mattered. If he followed her immediately after she'd left for family obligations, it would look suspicious. Obsessive. Like he didn't trust her judgment or respect her autonomy.
But private reality also mattered.
And privately, every instinct screamed that something was wrong. That her departure was too convenient, too perfectly timed, too strategically executed to be genuine emergency.
The enhancement tonics pulsed through his system, making rational analysis difficult. Making everything feel more intense, more urgent, more personally significant than it probably was.
He looked at the note again.
Kisses sent.
Casual affection from a wife to her husband. Nothing suspicious about it.
Nothing except the growing certainty that he was missing something crucial.
Something that would change everything if he discovered it.
The question was whether he had the courage to find out what.