Seraphina's POV - Two Weeks Earlier
I shouldn't go to the east tower.
Every instinct screams it's a trap. Kael Thorne doesn't send mysterious messages offering truth he sends soldiers with swords.
But my feet are already moving, carrying me down the corridor away from the chapel, away from safety, toward whatever waits in that tower.
The truth about the night your family died.
What truth? I was there. I saw everything.
Didn't I?
My hand grips the bouquet tighter as I walk, feeling the hidden vial press against my palm through the flowers. If this is a trap, at least I'm armed.
The east tower is old, barely used. Dust covers the stone steps as I climb. My wedding dress drags behind me, collecting dirt. The servants will be furious.
I almost laugh. I'm walking into potential death, and I'm worried about a dirty dress.
Higher and higher I climb, until I reach a wooden door at the top. It's slightly open.
I push it with trembling fingers.
The room is empty except for one thing: a table with a single document lying on it.
No Kael. No soldiers. No trap.
Just paper.
I step inside carefully, looking around. Where is he? The message said to meet him here.
Then I see the note attached to the document:
Read this first. Then decide if you still want to kill me. I'll be waiting at the altar.
My heart pounds. I move to the table and pick up the document. It's old, the paper yellowed with age. Official imperial seal at the top.
I start reading.
And my world shatters all over again.
TWO WEEKS EARLIER
The convent garden has never seemed more beautiful than in this moment, knowing I'm about to leave it forever. Two years of sanctuary, two years of false peace, ending with an imperial decree that shatters everything. The roses Sister Margarethe planted seem to lean toward me, as if saying goodbye.
The garden is the only place I feel peace anymore.
I kneel in the dirt, pulling weeds from around the roses Sister Margaret planted last spring. The sun is warm on my back. Birds sing in the trees. For a moment just one small moment I can almost forget.
Forget the screaming. Forget the blood. Forget that I'm the last of my family.
Almost.
Seraphina! Sister Margarethe's voice cuts through the quiet. She's running toward me, her robes hitched up, face pale. Come quickly. There's someone here.
My stomach drops. Who?
An imperial messenger.
The world tilts. I haven't seen an imperial messenger since the day they delivered my father's execution notice.
What does he want? My voice sounds far away.
He won't say. Only that he must speak with you directly. Sister Margarethe grabs my arm, helping me stand. Child, your hands are shaking.
Of course they are. Imperial messengers bring only two things: death or demands.
I brush the dirt from my simple brown dress and follow her to the chapel. Each step feels heavier than the last.
Inside, a man in crimson uniform stands waiting. The Emperor's colors. He looks at me with cold eyes, like I'm an insect he's deciding whether to crush.
Lady Seraphina Valence? His voice echoes in the small space.
Yes. I lift my chin. I won't show fear. Not to him. Not to anyone wearing those colors.
He pulls a scroll from his jacket, breaks the imperial seal, and begins reading: By order of Emperor Tiberius Asteryn, Lady Seraphina Valence will marry General Kael Thorne in fourteen days' time. The ceremony will take place at the Imperial Palace. Attendance is mandatory.
The words hit me like physical blows.
Marry. Kael Thorne. Fourteen days.
No. The word comes out as a whisper. Then louder: No. I refuse.
The messenger's smile is cruel. Refusal is not an option, my lady.
I don't care! My voice rises. I won't marry that monster! He murdered my family! He destroyed my home! I'd rather die than
Then die you shall. The messenger pulls out another document. Along with every surviving Valerian.
My blood turns to ice. What?
The messenger's face is carefully blank, but I can see the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He enjoys this delivering devastating news, watching people break. The Emperor chooses his messengers well. They're all a little bit cruel, a little bit eager to see others suffer.
The Emperor anticipated your... reluctance. He unfolds the paper, revealing columns of names. Hundreds of them. These are the Valerians still living in occupied territories. Farmers. Merchants. Children. The elderly. All will be executed as rebel sympathizers if you refuse this marriage.
I grab the list with shaking hands. I know these names. Mrs. Petra, who taught me to read. Old Thomas, who worked in our stables. Little Maya, who's only six years old.
You can't, I breathe. They're innocent.
Innocence is irrelevant. The messenger's voice is ice. The Emperor offers a choice: Marry General Thorne and your people live under his protection. Refuse, and watch them burn.
Sister Margarethe gasps behind me. This is barbaric!
This is politics. The messenger turns back to me. What is your answer, Lady Valence?
My mind races. There has to be another way. I can run. Hide. Fight.
But they'll still kill everyone on this list.
Because of me. They'll die because I refused.
How do I know you won't kill them anyway? I demand. After I marry him?
You don't. The messenger shrugs. But you know with certainty what happens if you refuse. At least marriage offers hope.
Hope. What a sick joke.
I look at the list again. All those names. All those lives.
I need time to think
You have thirty seconds. The messenger pulls out a pocket watch. Choose now, or I send word to begin the executions.
Thirty seconds to decide my entire future.
Thirty seconds to choose between my freedom and hundreds of lives.
Adrian's voice echoes in my memory: Run, Sera! I'll hold them off!
He died protecting me. Gave his life so I could live.
Could I do less for these people? Could I let them die to save myself?
Twenty seconds, the messenger says.
Sister Margarethe squeezes my shoulder. Whatever you choose, child, you are not responsible for the Emperor's evil.
But I would be. If I say no and they die, their blood is on my hands.
Each name on that list burns into my memory. Mrs. Petra, who taught me to read when I was five. Old Thomas, who let me feed the horses every morning. Little Maya, who's just six years old and has already lost her parents to this war. How can I sentence them to death? How can I choose my freedom over their lives?
Ten seconds.
I close my eyes. See Adrian's face. Mother's smile. Father's pride.
They're dead because of Kael Thorne.
But these people are still alive. Still have a chance.
Five. Four. Three
I'll do it. The words taste like poison. I'll marry him.
The messenger snaps his watch closed. Excellent choice, my lady. A carriage will arrive in thirteen days to transport you to the capital.
He turns to leave, then stops. Oh, one more thing. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small box. The General wanted you to have this.
He tosses it to me. I catch it automatically.
What is it?
A wedding gift. He said to tell you: 'I know what you lost. This changes nothing, but perhaps it helps you remember who your real enemies are.'
The messenger leaves. The chapel door slams shut.
My hands shake as I open the box.
Inside is a locket. Gold, delicate, familiar.
It was my mother's. I saw it around her neck the day she died.
How does Kael Thorne have my mother's locket?
I open it. Inside are two miniature paintings one of Adrian, one of me, done when we were children.
On the back, scratched into the metal, are words I don't recognize:
They lied about everything. The siege. The treason. All of it. I have proof. Trust no one.
The locket falls from my fingers, clattering on the stone floor.
What does this mean? What proof? Who lied?
And why would Kael Thorne my family's murderer send me evidence that someone else might be to blame?