Seraphina's POV
The music stopped.
I was mid-spin, my silver gown flowing around me like moonlight, when Prince Adrian's hand went rigid in mine. His smile—the one that had charmed me for three years—vanished.
He dropped my hand and stepped back.
My heart stuttered. Adrian?
The ballroom full of nobles fell silent. Hundreds of eyes turned toward us. The chandeliers overhead seemed too bright suddenly, like they were exposing something I couldn't see.
Seraphina Ashford, Adrian said, his voice cold and formal, nothing like the warmth he'd shown me moments ago. You are under arrest for high treason against the Crown.
The words hit me like a slap. What?
Royal guards poured onto the dance floor from every entrance. Their armor clanked as they surrounded me in a tight circle. I spun, searching for help, for someone to tell me this was a terrible joke.
Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
Adrian pulled a folded letter from inside his jacket. His hands were steady. Too steady. Like he'd practiced this. Evidence has come to light that you've been conspiring with Wildlands rebels. Planning to break the Thornwall Treaty. Plotting sedition against the Five Kingdoms.
That's insane! My voice cracked. I would never
These letters are in your handwriting. He held up the paper. Even from here, I could see the flowing script that looked exactly like mine. You've been meeting with enemies of the Crown. Sharing kingdom secrets. Endangering thousands of lives.
The ballroom erupted. Nobles gasped. Someone screamed. The woman who'd been complimenting my dress an hour ago backed away like I carried plague.
Those aren't mine! I reached for Adrian, desperate. You know me. I would never betray you or the kingdom. Please
A guard grabbed my arm. Hard. Pain shot through my shoulder as he wrenched it behind my back.
Don't touch her roughly, Adrian said, but his eyes were empty. Like he was looking at a stranger. She's still a lady. For now.
I searched his face for any hint of the man who'd proposed to me six months ago. The man who'd held me during thunderstorms because I was afraid. The man who'd promised we'd rule together with kindness.
He was gone. Or maybe he'd never existed.
Adrian, please. I hated how small my voice sounded. We're getting married in three weeks. You love me. Tell them this is wrong.
I loved a loyal daughter of the kingdom. His jaw tightened. Not a traitor.
The guards started dragging me backward. I dug my heels into the polished floor, but my silk slippers had no grip.
Sera!
My sister's voice cut through the chaos. Celeste pushed through the crowd, tears streaming down her beautiful face. Hope exploded in my chest—finally, someone who believed me.
She stopped at the edge of the guards' circle, one hand pressed to her mouth. I tried to warn you, she sobbed. I saw you sneaking out at night. Reading those forbidden treaties about the Wildlands. I didn't want to believe you'd actually betray us, but—
The hope died.
You're lying, I whispered.
I'm so sorry. Celeste's tears looked real. They probably were real. She'd always been good at crying when she wanted something. I should have told Father sooner. Maybe I could have stopped you before it went this far.
The crowd murmured approval. Poor Celeste, trying to save her treacherous sister. Sweet Celeste, so loyal to the Crown.
I wanted to scream the truth, that I'd only been researching the old treaties because Adrian asked me to. That I'd never met with rebels. That someone had forged those letters.
But looking at the sea of hostile faces, I knew it wouldn't matter.
Father! I spotted him near the front, his duke's medallion glinting. Tell them. You know I would never
He stepped forward. For one desperate second, I thought he'd defend me.
Then his face twisted with disgust. Theatrical. Practiced.
You are no daughter of mine. His voice boomed across the ballroom. The Ashford name rejects you. You have brought shame upon our family, our kingdom, and everything we hold sacred.
Something inside me cracked. Not my heart, that would have been too kind. Something deeper. The part of me that had spent twenty-five years trying to be the perfect daughter. The perfect fiancée. The perfect lady.
I didn't do this, I said, but my voice barely carried.
Take her to the dungeons, Adrian ordered. His Majesty will hold trial in the morning.
The guards yanked me toward the ballroom doors. I stumbled, nearly falling. My silver gown—the one I'd spent weeks choosing for this perfect night, dragged across the floor, collecting dirt.
As they hauled me past the crowd, I caught it.
Just a glimpse. A split second.
Adrian and Celeste's eyes met across the ballroom. His hand brushed hers as she passed. Not an accident. Deliberate. The touch of people who'd done this before.
Then Celeste smiled.
Tiny. Quick. Triumphant.
Understanding crashed over me like ice water. This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't confusion.
This was planned.
Together.
My sister and my fiancé had just destroyed me, and I'd never seen it coming.
The guards dragged me through the doorway. The last thing I heard was the ballroom erupting in whispers, already rewriting history. Already forgetting I'd ever been anything but a traitor.
The dungeon door slammed behind me with a sound like a tomb sealing shut.
I stood in the darkness, alone, everything I'd ever known torn away in minutes.
And deep in my chest, beneath the shock and pain, something new began to burn.
Rage.