The ballroom shimmered with polished grace, chandeliers glowing, violins sighing, glasses raised mid-toast.
Then Selene walked in.
No announcement. No title. No escort.
Just the hush that followed behind her like a cloak.
Her silver gown moved like smoke. Her steps were calm, deliberate. And though no blood stained her hands, the entire room reacted like they'd seen her commit murder.
Which, in a way, she had.
She'd just burned a secret royal treaty, one signed behind closed doors, never meant to see light. Twelve nobles knew it existed. And somehow, the room already knew what she'd done.
Eyes locked. Fans froze. Voices died mid-gossip.
Selene didn't slow. Didn't glance left or right. The crowd parted, not out of respect. Out of fear.
Lady Ashira's fan slipped from her fingers.
Count Thandros took a step back without realizing it.
Selene reached the refreshment table. Poured herself wine. Sipped once.
No tremor in her hand.
A whisper behind her:
-"She walked into the private chamber..."
-"She burned the whole damn agreement..."
-"I heard it was Viremont's deal..."
She set the goblet down.
"So many voices," she said flatly, "for people who weren't in the room."
Silence followed like breath held too long.
Then came his voice.
-"Lady Selene."
He stood at the edge of her periphery, tall, still, sharp in black and silver. His tone was polite, but empty of warmth.
Selene didn't turn right away."Duke Viremont," she replied, level and clipped. No hint of surprise.
He stepped closer. Not enough to break propriety, but enough to press tension into the space between them. His hands were behind his back, his posture relaxed, too relaxed.
"Impressive entrance," he said, with the ghost of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. The smile didn't reach his eyes.
She tilted her head slightly, just enough to let her gaze meet his. Cool. Controlled."I didn't come for applause."
He studied her."No. You came for fire."
Now she turned fully to face him, voice as even as the wine in her glass."And found enough to burn what needed burning."
Cassian's brow rose a fraction. He didn't blink.
"That was a delicate arrangement." His voice was smooth, but something colder coiled beneath it.
"It was a betrayal sealed in ink," she said, no rise in tone, only conviction.
"It was years of negotiation," he returned, sharper now. His fingers flexed once behind his back.
"It was weeks from bloodshed."
A pause. He looked at her as if re-evaluating every prior assumption."Do you know what happens next?"
"Yes." No hesitation.
"Do you know who you just declared war on?"
She didn't blink."I declared war the moment I survived."
That made his jaw shift, just a flicker, not quite tension, not quite approval.
"You just made yourself a target," he said softly.
"I've been one. This time, I chose the shape." Her voice held no arrogance, only precision.
He stepped closer. His breath was cool, scented faintly of myrrh and cold spice.
"And now what?"
"I wait."
"For what?" He leaned in slightly.
"For the ones too comfortable to imagine I'd fight back."
Cassian studied her, not just listening but calculating. His expression gave nothing away, but his stillness was too perfect. A man thinking fast beneath the surface.
"You're playing dangerously."
"Only shadows fear fire." She met his gaze directly, there was steel in her, not showmanship.
"You just cost the realm a fortune," he said, voice lowering with weight.
"I saved it from a war."
He tilted his head, something unreadable flickering across his face."Is that what you think this is? A victory?"
"No," she said. "This is clarity."
The violins shifted, soft, minor chords. A slow, taut waltz began like a breath drawn and held.
Cassian moved a hand toward her, fluid and precise.
"Dance with me."
She looked at it, not hesitant, but analytical. Like weighing the value of a move in a game.
"Is that an order," she asked, "or an offer?" Her tone was cool, laced with subtle challenge.
He gave a thin, unreadable smile."A negotiation."
Her fingers hovered for half a second, then she placed her hand in his.
They stepped into the center.
Every eye followed them, but the space around them felt narrower than the crowd. Each step was deliberate, balanced, two tacticians testing rhythm, not romance.
Cassian's voice barely broke the music."You could've warned someone." Not accusing. Testing.
Selene glanced at him, her voice a shade softer, but no less sure."Why warn the people holding the matchbox?"
He gave the faintest scoff."I wasn't holding anything."
"No," she said, cool as glass. "You were watching. Waiting to see which way the fire spreads."
His hand shifted slightly against her back. Not possessive, just pressure."That's one way to get my attention."
"I wasn't looking for it."
"You have it anyway." His tone was quieter now. Not soft. Intent.
Their steps turned. The crowd rippled around them, but neither looked away.
"You've made chaos look elegant," he said.
"Because it's not chaos. It's strategy."
"And the target?"
"The liars. The cowards. The ones who gamble with other people's blood."
He looked down, briefly, then back to her eyes."And me?"
A pause. Then:
"You're still deciding who you are in this."
His lips curved, barely."Am I?"
"You want to protect something," she said, voice low now. Measured. "But you haven't decided whether it's the realm… or yourself."
He chuckled, just once. A sharp sound, quickly gone."You always did enjoy dissecting things."
"I only cut what's rotten."
"You're colder than they said."
"And you're quieter than I hoped."
The music tightened. Their steps never broke, but tension pressed into every turn.
"You do realize," he murmured, "this won't end well."
She leaned in, just slightly, her voice brushing the edge of his jaw."Then let's make sure it ends usefully."
His hand lingered too long on her waist during the next turn. Her fingers answered with a subtle tightening against his palm.
"You're angry," she said.
"I don't get angry," he replied. "I rearrange."
"And what am I now? A miscalculation?"
"No. You're something new." He looked at her mouth. Then her eyes. "And I don't like new."
"Then you'll hate what comes next."
The final note struck like a blade on stone.
They stopped.
Still facing one another.
Still reading.
Cassian bowed. Deep enough to be formal. Shallow enough to remind her who he was.
She didn't curtsy.
"Until next time," he said, smooth as always.
"There won't be a next time," she lied.
And she walked away.
Everyone watched.
But only one of them was already reworking the entire board.
And he didn't take his eyes off her.
Not once.
Cassian most of all.
And Selene knew, without looking back,
The game had changed.
And she was the move no one saw coming.
End of Chapter 5.