The door slammed shut behind her.
Seraphina stood in her chambers, fists clenched, the crushed remains of the rose still staining her palm. Her heartbeat thundered—not from nerves, but from something older. Deeper.
The threads of her past coiled like smoke in her chest.
"You die anyway."
She had said the words to Caius, but she could still hear them echoing back at her, twisted in memory:
"The traitor dies at dawn."
"She killed our only hope."
"Let the fire purify her soul."
Her hands began to shake. Not from fear—but from heat.
A strange warmth crawled up her arms, her spine, her throat.
She staggered back from the mirror, eyes wide.
And then—the candles flared.
All at once.
Every flame in the room burst higher, reacting to something unseen. Her magic—wild, raw, unbound—had awakened.
This didn't happen last time.
What changed?
What came back with me?
She stared at her reflection. Her eyes weren't glowing, but something inside her was pulsing with unnatural rhythm—like a second heart. A darker one.
And then the visions came.
Not memories. Not dreams.
Visions.
• Her execution—again. But this time, she saw someone watching from the shadows.
• The crown prince turning his back as she screamed.
• A woman's voice whispering: "She was never meant to live."
• A sigil burning in the sky, one she didn't recognize. Not yet.
She collapsed to her knees, clutching her head.
"What is this?"
"Why am I seeing things I never saw before?"
She didn't know if it was a gift…
Or if something had followed her into this new life.
But then—three knocks.
Firm. Cold.
A servant's voice came through the door.
"Lady Seraphina. His Majesty wishes to see you. Immediately."
The throne room hadn't changed either.
Red carpets. Gold trim. Cold smiles. The place was built to impress peasants and intimidate nobles. But Seraphina wasn't either of those anymore.
She walked in alone.
All eyes turned to her.
At the far end, King Albrecht sat on the obsidian throne, his expression carved from ice. Beside him, Queen Morganna, radiant in crimson, her eyes sharp and unreadable.
At their side: the Royal Advisor, cloaked in gray, fingers stained with ink and secrets.
And behind them all, standing like a perfect statue: Caius.
So he was already part of their inner circle.
"Lady Seraphina," the King said. "You've been quiet lately. And we've noticed… changes."
Seraphina bowed. Not too low.
"I'm sure Your Majesty notices everything."
The Queen smiled thinly. "That's what makes him dangerous."
The room tensed.
Seraphina raised her chin. "Am I being summoned for a crime I haven't committed yet?"
"Not yet," the Advisor said calmly. "But perhaps it's only a matter of time."
She met his eyes—and for a split second, she saw something flicker there. Recognition? Doubt? Or a challenge?
They're testing me.
But this time… I'll play better.
She smiled.
"Then allow me to prove I've learned from my mistakes."
"You haven't made any yet," the King said coldly.
She didn't answer. Because she had. And she would again.
And next time… she wouldn't pay for them with fire.
⸻
As she left the throne room, something brushed against her fingertips—a shimmer in the air.
No one else reacted. But she felt it.
Magic.
Ancient. Watching her.
Something in this palace had awakened too.