Chapter Ten:
Morning came too quickly.
The palace did not wait for comfort.
It prepared for spectacle.
Servants moved like shadows through Seraphina's chamber, laying out silks, jewels, and fabrics far too delicate for a life she had known.
Gold.
Ivory.
Perfection.
"Stand still."
A maid adjusted the edge of her dress, careful not to touch her face longer than necessary.
Seraphina noticed.
Of course she did.
But she said nothing.
The gown was beautiful.
Flowing.
Royal.
Everything a princess should wear.
Everything she had never been allowed to be.
"You'll be presented before the court," another maid said softly. "Then the ceremony will follow."
Seraphina nodded once.
No questions.
No excitement.
Just acceptance.
Because this was not a wedding.
It was a transaction.
The doors opened.
And she walked out.
The palace halls were brighter now.
Filled.
Alive with movement and whispers.
But the moment she appeared—
Everything slowed.
Eyes turned.
Voices lowered.
Judgment settled like dust in the air.
"She's worse in daylight…"
"Is that truly the king's daughter?"
"How could anyone—"
Seraphina kept walking.
Unaffected.
Untouched.
Because she had learned something long ago—
Words only hurt when you still care to hear them.
"Seraphina."
The voice was soft.
Familiar in a way that felt… distant.
She turned.
Princess Elowen stood there.
Graceful.
Poised.
Perfect in the way the court adored.
Golden hair. Gentle eyes. A presence that invited admiration.
And yet—
There was hesitation in her gaze.
"I…" Elowen began, then stopped.
As if unsure where to begin.
Seraphina waited.
Silent.
"I didn't know," Elowen said finally.
Her voice was quiet.
Careful.
"About you."
Seraphina tilted her head slightly.
"That makes two of us."
A flicker of something crossed Elowen's face.
Guilt?
Perhaps.
"I mean—" she tried again, "if I had known, I would have—"
"What?" Seraphina asked softly.
Not sharp.
Not cruel.
Just… honest.
Elowen fell silent.
Because there was no answer to that.
Seraphina gave a small nod.
"Exactly."
The silence between them wasn't hostile.
But it wasn't warm either.
It was unfamiliar.
"You don't have to be alone here," Elowen said gently.
Seraphina almost smiled.
Almost.
"I've never been anything else," she replied.
Before Elowen could respond—
Another voice cut in.
Smooth.
Amused.
"Well, this is touching."
Princess Lysara stepped into view.
Unlike her sister, Lysara didn't hesitate.
She never had.
Sharp eyes.
Elegant posture.
A smile that held more meaning than warmth.
She looked Seraphina over slowly.
Taking in every detail.
Every flaw.
Every choice.
"You've certainly made an impression," Lysara said.
Seraphina met her gaze.
Unmoved.
"I try not to disappoint."
Lysara's smile widened slightly.
"Oh, I don't think you could, even if you tried."
A compliment.
An insult.
Both.
"Careful, Lysara," Elowen said quietly. "Today is not the day."
Lysara glanced at her.
Unbothered.
"Today is exactly the day," she replied.
Then back to Seraphina—
"You're about to marry into power you don't understand," she said softly.
"Try not to break under it."
Seraphina stepped closer.
Just enough.
"And you're used to it?" she asked.
Lysara's eyes sharpened.
"I was born for it."
Seraphina's voice didn't change.
"So was I."
That—
That landed.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Lysara smiled again.
"Good," she said lightly.
"I was hoping you wouldn't be boring."
Footsteps echoed down the hall.
Heavy.
Commanding.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Lord Darius.
He approached with the kind of presence that did not need announcing.
Tall. Controlled. Watching everything.
His gaze landed on Seraphina.
And stayed.
Longer than necessary.
Assessing.
Calculating.
"So," he said slowly, "this is the bride."
Seraphina held his gaze.
Didn't bow.
Didn't flinch.
"Yes."
A pause.
Then—
A small nod.
"Interesting."
Not approval.
Not rejection.
Something else.
Behind him—
Kael stood.
Silent.
Watching.
And unlike the others—
His gaze hadn't changed.
Still sharp.
Still curious.
Still… too aware.
Seraphina looked at him briefly.
Just a moment.
Enough to feel it.
The tension.
The question.
The unspoken understanding.
Then she looked away.
Because whatever this was—
It wasn't simple.
And it was only just beginning.