Seraphina’s room was quiet in a way that felt heavy rather than peaceful. The curtains swayed gently as a breeze slipped through the open window, carrying with it the faint scent of herbs and burning incense from the lower halls.
She paced back and forth across the marble floor, her steps asured yet restless, the hem of her robe brushing softly against her ankles with every turn.
Ophelia stood near the wall with another witch beside her, both of them keeping their heads lowered. Neither dared to speak. The tension in the room was thick, and the tension pressed down on their shoulders like an unseen weight.
Seraphina stopped abruptly and clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She held that position for a few seconds before slowly releasing them, inhaling deeply as if trying to calm the storm brewing inside her chest.
The image of the eting replayed in her mind again and again, the accusations, the shouting, the way Ember’s eyes had burned with restrained fury.
She turned sharply, her gaze locking onto Ophelia. "What you said earlier," she began, her voice steady but cold, "was it the truth?"
Ophelia’s shoulders trembled. Her lips wobbled as if she were struggling to hold herself together, and for a mont it looked like she might collapse under the pressure. Then she nodded, slow and deliberate, her eyes glistening. "Yes, my Queen," she said quietly. "I spoke nothing but the truth."
Seraphina studied her face closely, searching for any cracks, hesitation, or anything that might betray what she said. But all she saw was fear, raw and unfiltered, still, doubt lingered. She turned away again, resuming her pacing, her brows knitting together in thought.
Sothing about the situation did not sit right with her. Ember was many things, powerful, sharp-tongued, and unpredictable at tis, but killing without reason did not fit the picture Seraphina had ford of her. Irene had been the one to suggest using Ember to awaken her inheritance, and that mory alone made Seraphina uneasy. A part of her believed Ember’s mories had been genuine, that the anger in her eyes had not been feigned.
But belief was not enough. She was a leader now, and belief without evidence was a luxury she could not afford. If she sided too openly without proof, her people would turn against her, and rebellion would not be far behind.
Before she could speak again, a soft knock echoed through the room. Seraphina stopped in her tracks and turned toward the door. "You may leave," she said to the two witches without looking at them.
Ophelia hesitated as if she wanted to say sothing more, but one glance at Seraphina’s rigid posture made her swallow her words. She bowed deeply, the other witch following suit, and both of them slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them.
Seraphina exhaled slowly and turned just as the door opened again. Alaric stepped inside, his presence filling the room in a way that caught her off guard. The mont their eyes t, her gaze hardened instinctively, a defensive wall rising before she could stop it.
"Are you...okay?" Alaric said, his voice careful as if he were stepping into unfamiliar territory.
"I’m fine," Seraphina replied curtly, turning away from him as she walked toward the window.
Silence followed, stretching between them like an invisible thread. Neither of them seed to know how to bridge the gap.
Alaric shifted his weight slightly, his hands curling into fists before relaxing again. He had co with comfort, with things he wanted to say, but standing there now, all of it seed to slip from his mind.
Seraphina felt the silence more keenly than she cared to admit. It made her uneasy, her heart beating faster for reasons she could not explain. She was used to command, to voices filling the space around her, not this quiet awareness of another person’s presence.
"I... should rest," she said finally, turning away from the window and walking toward her bed.
Her steps faltered halfway. The edge of the rug caught under her foot, and before she could regain her balance, her body tipped forward. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she braced for the fall.
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back upright. Alaric’s grip was firm yet careful, as if he were afraid she might shatter under his touch. For a brief mont, ti seed to slow.
Their eyes t, both of them frozen in place, surprise written plainly across their faces. Seraphina’s breath caught in her throat as she beca painfully aware of how close he was, close enough that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, close enough that the bond between them stirred restlessly.
Alaric’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he was sure she could hear it. He had caught her without thinking, his body moving on instinct alone, and now that instinct threatened to betray him further.
After what felt like an eternity, Seraphina pulled herself free, stepping back quickly and creating space between them. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she turned away to hide it, pressing a hand to her face as if that might sohow cool the embarrassnt.
"I want to sleep," she said abruptly, her voice tighter than she intended. "You should leave."
Alaric blinked, clearly startled by the sudden dismissal. "I... right," he said, nodding absently. The reason he had co there in the first place was completely forgotten, swept away by the chaos of his thoughts.
He turned and walked toward the door, his steps unsteady. His heart was still racing, and he could not bring himself to look back at her. As the door closed behind him, he paused for a mont in the hallway, pressing a hand to his chest as if trying to calm himself.
Inside the room, Seraphina leaned back against the bed, her face burning. She covered it with both hands, groaning softly. "Why now of all tis," she muttered to herself, mortified by her own reaction.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, but the image of Alaric’s surprised expression lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.
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