Seraphina's POV
The soldiers' hands bite into my arms like iron shackles.
Let go of me! I twist against their grip, but they're too strong. My bouquet falls to the marble floor, white roses scattering like broken bones. There's been a mistake! Lucian, tell them!
But Lucian just stands there, watching me with eyes colder than winter frost.
Commander Helena climbs the altar steps, her boots clicking with military precision. Every eye in the cathedral is on us—hundreds of nobles witnessing my humiliation. The Emperor leans forward in his throne. The Empress covers her mouth in shock.
This can't be happening. Not here. Not now.
Lady Seraphina Ashcroft, Helena's voice echoes through the silent cathedral. You are charged with treason against the Golden Throne. Specifically, providing military intelligence to Duke Cassian Nightveil, the Shadow Traitor, enemy of the empire.
The words hit me like physical blows.
Duke Cassian Nightveil. The Shadow Duke. The most hated man in the empire—the traitor who tried to steal the throne, who leads the rebellion in the Shadow Marches, who kills Golden soldiers without mercy. I've never even seen him. I wouldn't know him if he stood right in front of me.
That's insane! My voice cracks. I've never spoken to the Shadow Duke. I've never been to the Shadow Marches. I don't even know what he looks like!
Liar. Helena pulls something from inside her uniform—a stack of letters tied with black ribbon. She holds them up for everyone to see. We found these hidden in your private chambers.
My stomach drops.
I don't know what those are, I say desperately. I've never seen them before.
Helena unties the ribbon and reads aloud, her voice ringing through the cathedral: My dearest Cassian, the Golden Army will move their supply wagons through the East Pass on the fifteenth. Only twenty guards will accompany them. Your people could easily take the supplies without bloodshed.
Gasps ripple through the crowd. Nobles whisper to each other, scandalized.
That's not my handwriting! I shout.
But Helena opens the letter and shows it to the crowd. Even from here, I can see the elegant script—the exact way I form my letters, the signature at the bottom: Seraphina Ashcroft.
My personal wax seal, the one Father gave me for my sixteenth birthday, pressed into red wax.
How— My mind races. That's impossible. Someone forged those. Someone is setting me up!
There are twelve letters, Helena continues coldly. Each one contains sensitive military information. Troop movements. Defense weaknesses. Names of loyal nobles. You've been selling our secrets to the enemy for months.
No! Tears burn my eyes, but I won't let them fall. Not here. Not in front of everyone. I would never betray the empire. I love the Golden Court. I was about to marry the Crown Prince!
Were you? Helena's smile is cruel. Or were you planning to sabotage the imperial family from the inside?
The cathedral erupts in angry whispers. I hear my name repeated over and over, dripping with disgust. Traitor. Spy. Whore.
I turn to Lucian, desperate. He's the Crown Prince. He can stop this madness. He knows me. He loves me.
Lucian, please, I beg, not caring how it sounds. You know I would never do this. Someone forged those letters. You have to believe me.
For a moment—just one heartbeat, something flickers in his eyes. Doubt? Regret?
Then it's gone, replaced by ice.
Bring in the witnesses, he says quietly.
No. No, no, no.
Three servants are escorted into the cathedral by soldiers. I recognize them—they work in the palace, in my wing. Martha, who brings my breakfast. Thomas, who tends the gardens outside my window. Young Sarah, who helps with my laundry.
They won't meet my eyes.
Tell the court what you saw, Helena commands.
Martha steps forward, wringing her hands. I—I saw Lady Seraphina writing letters late at night. Secret letters. She'd burn them in the fireplace after she finished, but once I found a scrap that survived. It had the Shadow Duke's name on it.
Liar! I scream. I never, Martha, why are you lying?
But Martha just looks at the floor, trembling.
Thomas speaks next, his voice shaking. I delivered packages for Lady Seraphina to a courier. She paid me extra gold to keep it secret. She said they were letters to a friend, but the courier told me they were going to the Shadow Marches.
That's not true! My voice breaks. Thomas, I gave you gold for your daughter's medicine! You know that!
Sarah is crying now, but she speaks anyway. Lady Seraphina met with a hooded man in the gardens three weeks ago. I saw them through the window. He gave her something wrapped in cloth. She hid it in her dress.
The lies pile up like stones, burying me alive.
I look at the faces around me—nobles I've known my whole life, ladies I had tea with, men who smiled at me in court. Every single one believes the lies. I can see it in their eyes. The perfect Lady Seraphina, too good to be true, was secretly a traitor all along.
These people are lying, I say, but my voice sounds weak even to my own ears. Someone paid them. Someone orchestrated this. Please, someone has to believe me.
Silence.
No one speaks in my defense. Not the nobles. Not the Emperor. Not even my own father, standing in the front row with his face carved from stone.
Father? I call out, desperate. Tell them I'm innocent. Tell them I would never betray our family.
Duke Aldric Ashcroft looks at me with eyes colder than Helena's. Colder than Lucian's. Colder than anything I've ever seen.
I have no daughter, he says, each word deliberate and final. The creature wearing my family name is a traitor and a disgrace. House Ashcroft disowns her completely.
The words are a sword through my chest.
My own father. The man who raised me, who trained me in court politics, who told me I was the future of our family—he just erased me like I never existed.
The evidence is overwhelming, Helena announces to the crowd. Lady Seraphina Ashcroft is guilty of high treason. The penalty is death by execution.
My legs give out. The soldiers hold me upright, but I can barely breathe. Death. They're going to kill me for crimes I didn't commit.
However, Helena continues, and something in her voice makes my skin crawl. The Golden Council has decided on a different punishment. One more fitting for her crimes.
The Emperor stands, and the entire cathedral falls silent.
Lady Seraphina Ashcroft has betrayed us for Duke Cassian Nightveil, the Emperor's voice booms. Therefore, she will be sent to the Shadow Marches as a peace offering—married by force to the very traitor she claims to love. Let her live with the consequences of her treason.
Horror crashes over me in waves.
Marriage to the Shadow Duke. The monster. The killer. The man who haunts children's nightmares and makes soldiers pray before battle.
No, I whisper. Please, not that. I'd rather die.
Consider it a mercy, Lucian says, and walks down the altar steps toward me. He moves like a predator, all grace and deadly intent.
He stops in front of me, so close I can see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. The eyes I thought held love for me.
Lucian, I beg one last time. Please. You know me. You know I'm innocent.
He reaches for my hand—the one wearing his engagement ring, the diamond that symbolized seven years of promises and dreams and hope for the future.
His fingers close around it.
I know exactly what you are, he says softly, so only I can hear. Then louder, for the crowd: A traitor. A liar. And no one I ever loved.
He yanks the ring from my finger.
The pain is nothing compared to the way my heart shatters.
Lucian holds the ring up for everyone to see, then drops it. It hits the marble with a tiny, final clink.
Take the traitor away, he commands.
The soldiers drag me backward down the aisle. I'm too numb to fight anymore. Too broken to scream.
As they pull me toward the cathedral doors, I see movement at the altar.
My sister Celeste climbs the steps in a rustle of silk. She's wearing a dress I've never seen before—golden and beautiful, like it was made for a wedding. She takes her place where I stood just minutes ago.
Next to Lucian.
Since we have the Emperor, the Empress, and all the noble houses gathered, Lucian announces, his voice carrying through the cathedral, and since House Ashcroft requires a new heir after disowning the traitor—I propose we continue with the wedding. Lady Celeste Ashcroft has agreed to take her sister's place as my bride.
The world stops spinning.
Celeste looks at me across the cathedral. Our eyes meet.
And she smiles.
Not the sweet, supportive smile from my dressing room. This smile is triumphant. Victorious. Like she's won a prize she's been competing for all her life.
No, I breathe. Celeste, no. Tell them the truth. Tell them I didn't do this.
But Celeste just turns to Lucian, takes his hand, and says loud enough for everyone to hear:
I would be honored to be your wife, Your Highness. Unlike my sister, I know where my loyalty belongs.
The High Priest begins the ceremony again.
The soldiers drag me through the cathedral doors as the music starts playing—the same processional that was meant for me, now celebrating my sister's wedding to my fiancé.
The last thing I see before the doors slam shut is Celeste in Lucian's arms, wearing my crown of gold roses, marrying the man I loved while I'm dragged away in chains to be shipped off to a monster.
And I finally understand.
This wasn't a mistake.
This was planned.
Every piece of evidence, every lying witness, every perfect detail—someone orchestrated my complete destruction.
But who?
And more importantly, why?