Seraphina's POV - Two Weeks Earlier, Evening
I can't stop staring at the locket.
They lied about everything. The siege. The treason. All of it. I have proof.
My mother's locket. In Kael Thorne's hands. With a message that makes no sense.
Seraphina? Sister Margarethe touches my shoulder gently. What is it? What's wrong?
I show her the locket, the message scratched on the back.
Her face goes pale. What does this mean?
I don't know. My voice shakes. But I'm going to find out.
I need air. Space. Somewhere to think.
I leave the chapel and walk to the small cemetery behind the convent. This is where I come when the nightmares get too loud. Where I've placed memorial stones for my family since their bodies are buried in Valeria, too far for me to visit.
Three simple stones in a row. Father. Mother. Adrian.
I collapse in front of Adrian's marker, and finally the tears come.
I have to marry him, brother. My voice cracks. The man who killed you. The Emperor is forcing me, and if I refuse, hundreds of our people will die.
The stone doesn't answer. It never does.
I'm so sorry. I press my forehead against the cold marble. You died protecting me, and now I have to marry your murderer. How is that fair? How is any of this fair?
The wind rustles through the trees. Somewhere, a bird calls out.
And something inside me breaks.
The cemetery is empty except for the wind moving through the trees. Birds sing somewhere in the distance, oblivious to human grief. It seems wrong that the world can be so beautiful when everything inside me is broken. Wrong that flowers bloom and birds sing while my family lies dead.
No. Not breaks.
Hardens.
I stand up, wiping my tears away with angry fists.
But I swear to you, Adrian My voice is steel now. he will pay for what he did. To you. To Mother. To Father. To all of us.
I pull the small knife I use for gardening from my pocket. The blade catches the setting sun.
I'll marry him. I'll smile beside him. I'll play the perfect wife. I press the blade against my palm. But I'll learn his secrets. I'll find his weaknesses. And when he trusts me when he thinks I'm broken and tamed I'll destroy him from within.
The knife cuts. Pain flares. Blood wells up, dark red against my pale skin.
I hold my bleeding palm over Adrian's stone, letting drops fall onto the carved letters of his name.
This is my vow, brother. Written in blood. Sealed with pain. Each drop that falls makes my resolve stronger. Kael Thorne will suffer for every tear you cried. For every scream Mother made. For every moment of Father's fear.
The blood pools in the carved letters, filling them like dark ink.
He thinks he's won by forcing this marriage. He hasn't won. He's just brought his destroyer into his own house.
I wrap my hand in my skirt, watching the fabric turn red.
I'll be patient. I'll be smart. And when the moment comes I touch the stone one last time. I'll make sure you're avenged.
The oath feels real now. Solid. Unbreakable.
Seraphina.
I spin around. Sister Margarethe stands at the cemetery entrance, her face sad and worried.
How long have you been there? I demand.
Adrian's memorial stone is simple I couldn't afford anything elaborate. Just his name and dates, and the words 'Beloved Son and Brother.' It's not enough. No words could ever be enough to capture what he was, what he should have become. But it's all I have.
Long enough. She walks toward me slowly. Child, revenge won't heal you. It will only make the wound deeper.
I don't want to heal. I show her my bleeding palm. I want justice.
Justice and revenge aren't the same thing.
They are when the Emperor protects murderers! My voice rises. The law won't punish Kael Thorne. He's a hero to them. A celebrated general. So I'll be the law. I'll be the punishment.
Sister Margarethe takes my wounded hand gently, pulling a clean cloth from her robes to wrap it. And what happens to you after? When he's dead and your revenge is complete?
I haven't thought that far ahead.
I don't care, I say. As long as Adrian is avenged.
Your brother wouldn't want this. She ties the cloth tight. He died so you could live. Not so you could throw your life away on vengeance.
You don't understand
I understand more than you think. Her voice is sharp now. I lost my family too, Seraphina. To politics. To power. To men who faced no consequences. She grips my shoulders. I know how rage feels. How it burns. How it promises to fill the empty spaces inside you.
Then why are you trying to stop me?
Because I know what happens when you feed that rage. Her eyes are wet. It consumes you. You become the very thing you hate. Is that what you want? To become a monster to kill a monster?
I pull away from her. I'll do whatever it takes.
Even lose yourself?
I already lost myself the night they died. I touch the locket hanging around my neck now. This revenge is all I have left.
Sister Margarethe looks at me for a long moment. Then she sighs, defeated.
Then at least be smart about it, she says quietly. Don't let anger make you reckless. If you're going to do this, be patient. Be careful. Stay alive long enough to see it through.
The blood oath feels ancient, primal. Something from the old stories Father used to tell, when the Valence line was young and magic still walked the land. I don't believe in magic anymore. But I believe in blood, in pain, in the binding power of revenge. This oath will hold me when everything else falls away.
I nod. I will.
She starts to leave, then turns back. That locket. The message about proof. What if it's true? What if there's more to the story than you know?
It doesn't matter. My hand closes around the locket. Kael Thorne still gave the orders. He still led the siege. Whatever lies someone else told, he's the one who acted on them. He's guilty.
Is he? Sister Margarethe asks softly. Or is he just another piece in a bigger game?
Before I can answer, a young novice runs into the cemetery, breathless.
Sister Margarethe! Seraphina! Come quickly!
What's wrong? I ask.
There's a fire! She points toward the village below the convent. In the Valerian refugee camp. Someone set it deliberately. They're saying She gasps for air. they're saying it's a message. A warning about the wedding.
My blood turns cold.
How many people? Sister Margarethe demands.
At least fifty families live there. And the fire's spreading fast.
We run.
As we race down the hill, I see smoke rising black against the evening sky. Screams carry on the wind.
And I realize: someone doesn't want this wedding to happen.
Someone willing to burn innocent people to stop it.
The question is are they trying to save me, or destroy me?