The nod Lorcan gave me across the Grand Salon like a butcher examining the quality of his meat. He hadn't been watching to ensure my safety; he had been watching to assess my performance.
I couldn't let that stand. I couldn't be ruled by a man who treated my life as a political litmus test.
The moment Vesper finished escorting me back to my chambers, I turned to her, my voice low and determined. "I need to speak to the King. Now. Not about training. Not about the prophecy. About Lady Isolde."
Vesper studied me, a flicker of something close to respect in her eyes. "He is in his private archive. I can try to announce you, but he prefers isolation after Court functions."
"Just take me there. I don't need an announcement," I said, marching past her. If I waited, my resolve would cool.
The King's private archive was not what I expected. Instead of dusty tomes, it was a sleek, towering space carved entirely from black marble, its shelves lined with glowing silver scrolls and dense, unidentifiable artifacts. Lorcan was seated at a massive obsidian desk, illuminated by a single, cool blue light source hovering above a document. He looked even more lethal in this isolated, powerful setting.
Vesper waited just inside the massive archway. I walked until I was standing directly opposite the desk.
"Vesper did not announce you," Lorcan observed, not looking up from the scroll he was translating. His voice was smooth and dangerously casual.
"I didn't ask her to," I snapped. "I wanted to ask you something before the exhaustion of holding in my Sun-Fire causes me to accidentally set fire to your drapes."
He finally raised his head. His eyes, the color of molten amber in the dim light, fixed on me with an intense, unnerving focus. "Speak plainly, Seraphina."
"Lady Isolde threatened me today," I stated, keeping my hands carefully folded behind my back to stop myself from gesturing wildly. "She made it quite clear that once the Shadow-Curse is broken, she intends to ensure my immediate removal from the Court—permanently. You stood ten feet away and did nothing. Why?"
He leaned back in his chair, the gesture revealing the full, formidable width of his shoulders. "Do you require a bodyguard, Seraphina? Are you requesting my protection from the sharp words of a distant relative?"
"I am asking why you would risk the life of the only creature who can save you because of some petty political game!" My voice rose. "You are desperate for my power, yet you allow a rival to undermine my position and threaten my life. Do you expect me to survive the wedding if I can't survive a tea party?"
Lorcan gave a single, icy laugh. It was a sound that was rarely heard and utterly devoid of humor.
"You misunderstand the nature of the Nightshade Court, Seraphina. Here, the words are the weapons. Isolde's threats were harmless; they were merely a test."
"A test I could have failed!"
"Precisely," he said, the word cutting through the air. "If you had dissolved into tears, or worse, if you had lost control and ignited your power in front of the entire assembly, you would have proven Isolde correct: you are a fragile, mortal-raised embarrassment, and thus unfit to stand beside me. Unfit to survive the bond."
He pushed the scroll away and locked his gaze on mine, his voice dropping to a low, powerful register. "I cannot have a Queen who is a liability. Isolde is a political animal. She represents the old bloodlines who believe the only solution to this kingdom's plight is pure Fae strength, not a half-breed curiosity dragged out of the human realm. If I had intervened, I would have signaled to the entire Court that you are a weakness that requires my constant defense. That is the true danger, Seraphina, weakness is fatal here."
His logic was sickeningly brutal, but undeniably sound. He hadn't been indifferent; he had been calculating.
"So you use me as bait," I whispered, the rage now mingling with a creeping, awful understanding.
"I use you to save us all," Lorcan corrected, rising slowly from the desk. The movement was predatory and deliberate. "And to ensure you are capable of the sacrifice I demand. The bond requires two halves to survive, Seraphina. It requires a Solar Fire that is controlled, but it also requires a will that is unbreakable. Isolde gave you the first taste of what awaits you outside these chambers. Your defiance was... admirable."
He walked around the desk, stopping just inches from me. The cold radiating from his body was an oppressive force, but now I sought it out, allowing it to anchor the buzzing heat within my chest.
"Do you truly believe," I challenged him, my voice barely a breath, "that I will ever truly fight for you after you treat me this way?"
His head tilted, his amber eyes glittering in the low light. His gaze was no longer purely assessing; it was searching, intimate, and dangerous.
"You will fight, Seraphina Lyra," Lorcan murmured, his voice softening just enough to send a shiver down my spine. "You will fight because you will discover that the Sun-Fire inside you is not meant to be contained. It is meant to burn. And I am the only thing in this kingdom that can provide the shadow necessary for you to control the flame without destroying everything you touch."
He reached out, his hand stopping an inch from my face. I could feel the glacial cold of his touch before it even landed. He wasn't threatening me; he was tempting me.
"I will not protect you from the Court, but I will not allow them to interfere with the ritual," he promised. "If Isolde attempts physical harm, I will dismantle her line myself. You need to understand the difference, Seraphina. This is a partnership of survival, not a fairy tale of protection."
His breath ghosted over my ear, cold as a winter wind. "Now, go back to your chambers. And tomorrow, you will train until your power screams for that Sunstone."
The moment passed. He didn't touch me, yet the space between us felt impossibly tight, charged with the volatile energy that only existed when we were near. I retreated, feeling both dismissed and understood. He saw the fire in me, and rather than fearing it, he demanded I weaponize it.
I walked out of the archive, my mission failed, yet my resolve stronger than ever. I hated his cold, calculating efficiency, but I couldn't deny his premise. In this Court of Shadows, weakness truly was fatal.