The palace was quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that came with peace—but the kind that came with waiting. A hush before the storm. A breath before the scream.
Elara stood in her solar, the parchment still clutched in her hand.
Seraphina's message had arrived at dawn.
> We should speak. Alone. Before the spring wedding. There are things you need to understand.
Valeria had delivered it without comment, but her eyes had lingered on Elara's face—curious, cautious.
Elara hadn't responded.
Not yet.
She had spent the morning walking the palace gardens, her thoughts tangled like the vines curling around the marble columns. She had once written Seraphina as her mirror. Her ideal. Her heroine.
Now she wasn't sure who she was.
Or who Seraphina had become.
---
They met in the Moon Garden.
It was late afternoon, the sky painted in shades of gold and ash. The white roses glowed in the fading light, their petals soft as secrets.
Seraphina stood by the fountain, her gown trailing like mist, her hair braided with pearls.
"You came," she said.
"I always do," Elara replied.
Seraphina turned. Her face was calm, but her eyes were storms.
"I didn't expect you to answer."
"I didn't expect you to ask."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Seraphina said, "You ruined everything."
Elara didn't flinch. "I saved myself."
"You were supposed to refuse."
"I couldn't ,how long are you going to keep arguing about this ."
Seraphina's voice cracked. "But he loved me."
"I know."
"I loved him."
"I know."
Seraphina stepped closer. "Then why?"
Elara's voice was steady. "I've already told you this before, it's because I didn't want to die."
Seraphina stared at her. "You think that makes it right?"
"No," Elara whispered. "But it makes it real."
Seraphina's hands trembled. "He was mine."
"He was never yours," Elara said. "He was his father's."
Seraphina's eyes shimmered. "And now he's yours."
Elara shook her head. "No. He's still his father's."
Seraphina looked away. "He doesn't love you."
"I know."
"He never will."
"I know."
Seraphina turned back. "Then what are you fighting for?"
Elara's voice was quiet. "Not love. Just to survive ."
Seraphina still didn't understand what she meant by survival but she just thought maybe Lyria wanted to be Queen for the power.
---
Kael sat in the war room, the map of the eastern borders spread before him. His fingers traced the inked lines, but his mind was elsewhere.
Lucien entered without knocking.
"You're brooding," he said.
"I'm thinking."
"Same thing."
Kael didn't look up. "She met with Seraphina."
"I know."
Kael's jaw tightened. "She didn't tell me."
"She doesn't owe you that."
Kael looked at his brother. "She's my wife."
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Is she?"
Kael stood. "What do you want?"
Lucien stepped closer. "To understand."
Kael's voice was low. "She's changing."
Lucien nodded. "And you don't know how to feel about it."
Kael looked away.
Lucien continued, "You said you loved Seraphina."
"I did."
"Why?"
Kael's voice was quiet. "She saved me."
Lucien waited, he already knew the story but he still wanted to hear it from Kael himself again.
Kael sat down slowly. "When I was ten, I fell into the river. The current was strong. I couldn't swim. Everyone froze. But she jumped in. Pulled me out. Held me while I cried."
Lucien's voice softened. "And you promised to love her."
Kael nodded. "I thought that was love."
Lucien sat beside him. "It was gratitude. Loyalty. Not love."
Kael's eyes burned. "Then what is love?"
Lucien smiled faintly. "Love is what you feel when you're not trying to repay a debt."
Kael didn't speak.
Lucien stood. "You're starting to see it. That's why you're afraid."
---
The next morning, Elara entered the council chamber with a stack of parchment.
Valeria followed, her expression unreadable.
The ministers rose.
Kael was already seated.
Elara didn't wait for permission.
"I have proposals," she said.
She spoke of land reform. Of merchant protections. Of education for girls in the lower city.
She spoke with clarity. With fire.
Kael watched her.
When she finished, the room was silent.
Then one minister stood. "Your Majesty… these are bold."
Elara nodded. "So is the crown."
Kael's eyes met hers.
She didn't look away.
---
Later that day, Elara found Lucien in the library.
He was reading a book on Thorne's early monarchs, his brow furrowed.
"You're studying," she said.
"I'm preparing."
"For what?"
Lucien looked up. "For the moment you need me."
Elara sat beside him. "I already do."
Lucien smiled. "Then tell me what you need."
She hesitated.
Then she said, "I need someone who sees me."
"I do."
"Not the queen."
"I see Lyria."
Her breath caught.
Lucien reached for her hand.
"I'm here," he said. "Not for the crown. For you."
She didn't pull away.
---
Kael stood on the balcony, watching the city lights flicker below.
He had spent the day in meetings, in silence, in thought.
He had watched Lyria speak with power.
He had watched Lucien stand beside her.
He had felt something twist inside him.
Not anger.
Not jealousy.
Something else.
He remembered Seraphina's laughter.
He remembered Lyria's silence.
He remembered the way she had looked at him when she said, "I love you."
He hadn't believed her.
Now he wasn't sure.
He turned away from the city.
And walked toward her chambers.
---
That night, Elara wrote:
> Seraphina is marrying Dorian.
> Kael is unraveling.
> Lucien is steady.
> The court is shifting.
> I am no longer waiting to be chosen.
> I am choosing myself.
> The crown is not my burden.
> It is my blade.
> And I am learning to wield it.
She closed the journal.
Outside, the palace stirred.
Inside, the queen stood.
---