Aelindra's POV
The champagne glass shattered against the marble floor three seconds before my life did the same.
I should have known something was wrong when the musicians stopped playing mid-song. When the laughter died like someone had stolen all the air from the room. When two hundred nobles froze in place, their faces turning toward the ballroom doors with identical expressions of shock.
But I was too busy being happy.
Stupid, foolish, happy.
"Lyn, did you hear me?" Cassiel's voice pulled at my attention. His hand was warm around my waist, his smile the same one that had made me fall in love with him three years ago. "I asked if you're ready for our future to begin."
I laughed, spinning in his arms as the music swirled around us. "I've been ready since the day you proposed."
My sister Seraphine glided past, her blonde hair catching the storm-light from the chandeliers above. She winked at me, her smile bright and perfect. Everything about tonight was perfect. My engagement party. My family. My future husband. The Apex Citadel's grand ballroom sparkled with magic, and everyone I loved was here to celebrate.
Then the doors exploded inward.
Not literally—though that might have been better. Instead, they slammed open with such force that the sound echoed like thunder. Storm Guards poured through, their silver armor crackling with lightning. Twenty of them. Thirty. More.
The music died.
Cassiel's hand dropped from my waist.
And Commander Thystra Ironwind strode into my engagement party like death itself had put on armor and decided to ruin my life.
"Aelindra Stormwrought," her voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You are under arrest for storm theft."
The words didn't make sense. They were just sounds, meaningless noise that my brain refused to process. Storm theft? That was impossible. That was—
"There must be some mistake," my father's voice boomed across the ballroom. Lord Aldric Stormwrought stepped forward, his Storm Chosen robes flowing behind him. "My daughter would never—"
"We have evidence, Lord Aldric." Thystra's face could have been carved from ice. She pulled out a crystal sphere that glowed with sickly green light. "Storm essence, stolen from the Tempest Vaults. Found in Lady Aelindra's private chambers. Her magical signature is all over the Vault seals."
My heart stopped.
"That's not possible," I whispered. "I've never been to the Vaults. I've never stolen anything!"
But Thystra was already moving toward me, her guards forming a circle. The nobles who had been dancing and laughing minutes ago now pressed back against the walls, their faces twisted with disgust and fear.
Like I was something dangerous. Something dirty.
"Cassiel," I turned to my fiancé, reaching for his hand. "Tell them. Tell them this is insane!"
He looked at me.
Really looked at me.
And said nothing.
"Cassiel?" My voice cracked.
His jaw tightened. His eyes—those beautiful blue eyes I'd gazed into a thousand times—slid away from mine. "I... I don't know what to say, Lyn."
The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "You don't know what to say? How about 'my fiancée isn't a thief'? How about 'there's been a mistake'?"
"Has there?" The question came from behind me.
I spun around to find Seraphine standing there, tears streaming down her perfect face. My little sister, who I'd protected from our father's harsh words her entire life. Who I'd helped practice her storm-calling when her magic was weak. Who I'd loved more than anyone.
"Sera?" I breathed.
"I'm so sorry, Lyn." Her voice shook. She pressed her hands to her face, sobbing. "I tried to ignore it. I tried to convince myself I was wrong. But I saw you. Two weeks ago, sneaking toward the Vaults. You were talking to yourself about 'taking what you deserve.'"
The world stopped.
"What?" I barely recognized my own voice. "Sera, that's not true. I never—"
"You've been different lately," she continued, and the tears looked so real. So genuine. "Obsessed with power. Angry all the time. I thought it was just wedding stress, but then I found the storm essence hidden in your room—"
"YOU'RE LYING!" The scream tore from my throat. Storm-magic crackled around my hands without permission, blue lightning dancing across my fingers. Several nobles gasped and stepped back further.
Thystra's hand went to her weapon. "Control yourself, Lady Aelindra."
"I didn't do this!" I looked around wildly, searching for one friendly face in the crowd. One person who would believe me. "Father, please. You know me. You raised me. I would never steal from the Vaults!"
My father's face had gone pale. His hands trembled at his sides. For a moment—just one heartbeat—I thought he might defend me.
Then his expression hardened into something cold and unfamiliar.
"I don't know you at all," he said quietly. "Take her away."
The words hit harder than any physical blow could have.
Thystra's guards closed in. Iron hands gripped my arms. I struggled, but they were trained warriors and I was just a girl in a silk dress who'd been dancing minutes ago.
"Wait!" I twisted in their grip, looking back at Cassiel one more time. "Please. You love me. Tell them this is wrong!"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then looked away.
That's when I saw it.
Just for a second. Just one unguarded moment.
Seraphine's hand brushed against Cassiel's. His fingers curled around hers. Squeezed gently.
And they exchanged a look.
A look I'd seen before, between other couples. Intimate. Knowing. Secret.
The truth hit me like lightning to the chest.
They planned this.
Together.
My sister and my fiancé had destroyed me, and I'd been too stupid, too trusting, too happy to see it coming.
"No," I whispered. Then louder: "NO!"
I lunged toward them, but the guards yanked me back. Storm-magic exploded from my hands—wild, uncontrolled—shattering three chandeliers. Nobles screamed and scattered.
"Sedate her!" Thystra commanded.
Something sharp pricked my neck. The world started to blur and fade, but I kept my eyes locked on my sister and the man I'd loved.
Seraphine was still crying, playing the devastated sister perfectly. But as the drug pulled me under, I saw her expression slip.
Just for a heartbeat.
She smiled.
The last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me was Cassiel's voice, calm and cold:
"It's better this way."