Seraphina's POV
The assassin's hand reaches my windowsill.
I don't think. I just move.
I grab the heavy candlestick from my bedside table and swing it hard at the fingers gripping the ledge.
CRACK.
The assassin yelps and loses their grip, falling backward into the darkness.
A thud. A groan. Then silence.
I lean out the window, heart pounding. The figure lies motionless on the ground below. The guards haven't noticed yet—they're still on the other side of the estate.
Did I just kill someone?
Then the "assassin" sits up, pulls off their black hood, and I see her face in the moonlight.
Lucy.
"Lucy?!" I nearly scream. "What are you doing climbing my wall like a—"
"Shh!" She waves frantically at me. "I'm trying to rescue you, you ungrateful— ow!" She rubs her hand where I hit it. "That really hurt, miss!"
"You scared me to death! I thought you were here to kill me!"
"Kill you? I'm trying to save you!" Lucy looks around nervously. "Now stop yelling and help me up before the guards come!"
I grab the bedsheets and tie them together quickly, tossing one end down to Lucy. She climbs up much more carefully this time, cradling her injured hand.
"I thought they sent you away," I whisper as I pull her through the window.
"They tried. But I hid in the servants' quarters instead." Lucy's face is fierce despite her small size. "I heard them planning to keep you locked up during the death match. I couldn't let that happen."
My throat tightens with emotion. "Lucy, if they catch you helping me—"
"Then they catch me. I don't care." She pulls a dark cloak from her bag. "Put this on. We're getting you out of here."
"How? The door is locked and the guards—"
"There's a servants' passage behind the fireplace. Your mother showed it to me years ago before she died. Said someday you might need it." Lucy starts pushing on the stones around the fireplace. "She made me promise to help you escape if things ever got dangerous."
One of the stones clicks and the entire fireplace swings inward, revealing a dark tunnel.
"Your mother was a smart woman," Lucy says softly. "She knew this family would try to hurt you eventually."
I stare at the hidden passage, my chest aching. My mother died when I was five. I barely remember her. But she left me this—a way out.
"Come on." Lucy lights a small lantern. "We need to move fast. This tunnel leads to the old stables on the east side. There's a horse waiting."
We slip into the passage, and Lucy pulls the fireplace closed behind us. The tunnel is narrow and damp, barely wide enough for one person. We have to walk in single file, hunched over.
"How do you know about the horse?" I whisper.
"I stole it from the stable master an hour ago." Lucy sounds almost proud. "And I packed supplies in the saddlebags. Food, water, a change of clothes, and this—"
She hands me something in the darkness. I hold it up to the lantern light.
A dagger.
"Lucy, where did you—"
"Don't ask questions. Just take it." Her voice is firm. "You're going to need protection where you're going."
The tunnel slopes downward, getting darker and colder. Water drips from the ceiling. Something scurries past my feet—probably rats.
"Where exactly am I going?" I ask.
"The Imperial Arena. That's where you want to be at dawn, right? For the Emperor's death match?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then that's where I'm taking you. Or at least getting you close enough that you can make it on your own."
We walk in silence for several minutes. The tunnel seems endless. Just when I think we'll be underground forever, Lucy stops.
"There." She points ahead to a wooden door. "That leads to the old stables. Once we're through, you'll need to ride hard and fast. The arena is two hours away by horse."
I check Lucy's small clock: 12:15 AM. If I ride now, I'll reach the arena by sunrise. Just in time for the match.
"Come with me," I say suddenly. "Leave this place, Lucy. They'll punish you for helping me escape."
"I know." She smiles sadly. "But someone needs to stay behind and cover your tracks. Make them think you're still locked in your room as long as possible. Every minute I buy you is another minute closer to saving your Emperor."
"He's not my—" I stop. Because maybe he is. Maybe that's exactly what he is now. "Lucy..."
"Go." She pushes me toward the door. "And when you're Empress someday, remember the little maid who got you there."
I hug her fiercely. "I'll come back for you. I promise."
"I know you will, miss." She wipes her eyes quickly. "Now go save your man."
I push open the door and cold night air hits my face. The old stables are abandoned and falling apart, but there—in the shadows—is a beautiful black horse, already saddled.
I'm about to mount when Lucy grabs my arm.
"Wait. I almost forgot." She pulls out a sealed letter from her pocket. "A messenger came to the estate earlier tonight. This is for you. He said it was urgent."
The letter has no seal, no markings. Just my name written in elegant script.
I tear it open and read by moonlight:
Seraphina,
If you're reading this, you've escaped your family's trap. Good. You're smarter than they think.
But you need to know the truth about tomorrow's death match. It's not what it seems.
Prince Lucien doesn't want the throne. He wants something much more dangerous.
He wants to complete the curse.
The imperial curse requires a blood sacrifice on sacred ground. The arena was built on ancient temple ruins—the most sacred ground in the empire. If Lucien kills me there at dawn, when the sun first touches the Dragon Throne, my death will complete the curse's final requirement.
And once the curse is complete, it won't just destroy the Draegor bloodline. It will destroy everyone connected to us.
Including you.
Your engagement to me has already bound you to the curse. Even if you run, even if you hide, when the curse activates, you'll die screaming within the hour.
The only way to stop it is to prevent my death. Or die trying.
I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I'm sorry I chose you. I thought I could protect you.
I was wrong.
Don't come to the arena, Seraphina. Let me die alone. At least then the curse might only take me.
—Cassian
My hands shake so badly the letter flutters to the ground.
"Miss? What does it say?" Lucy asks nervously.
I stare at the arena in the distance, where the first hints of dawn are lightening the sky.
Cassian is telling me not to come. Telling me to let him die alone.
But if he dies, the curse completes. And I die anyway.
And if I go to the arena to help him... I might die in the fighting.
Either way, I'm dead.
"Miss?" Lucy's voice rises with worry. "What's wrong?"
I pick up the letter and fold it carefully. Then I mount the horse.
"Everything's wrong, Lucy. But I'm going anyway."
"Going where?"
"To break a curse." I grab the reins tightly. "Or die trying."
I kick the horse into a gallop, racing toward the arena. Toward Cassian. Toward a death match that will decide both our fates.
The wind whips my hair back as I ride. The dark cloak billows behind me. And for a moment, I feel powerful. Brave.
Then I see it.
On the horizon, rising above the arena, a massive pillar of black smoke.
Something's burning.
I urge the horse faster, my heart pounding with dread.
As I get closer, I see guards running everywhere. People screaming. And flames—huge flames—consuming the northern side of the arena.
I reach the chaos and jump off my horse. A guard tries to stop me.
"Miss, you can't go in there! The arena is under attack!"
"Attack? By who?"
"Prince Lucien's forces! They struck an hour ago!" The guard's face is covered in soot. "They've taken hostages inside. Including—"
He stops, his face going pale.
"Including who?" I demand.
"The Emperor," he whispers. "They have Emperor Cassian. And they're going to execute him when the sun rises."
I look at the sky. The first golden rays are touching the horizon.
Sunrise is in ten minutes.
"Where is he?" My voice comes out deadly calm. "Where are they holding him?"
"The center platform. But miss, you can't—"
I'm already running.
I push through the chaos, through the smoke and flames, heading for the arena's center. The dagger Lucy gave me is heavy in my hand.
I round a corner and freeze.
The entire center platform is surrounded by men in black armor. Dark mages, judging by the purple energy crackling around their hands.
And in the middle of them all, chained to a post with silver chains, is Cassian.
He's bleeding. Beaten. But still alive.
Prince Lucien stands beside him, holding a ceremonial blade. The same kind of blade used in ancient sacrifices.
"Brothers and sisters!" Lucien's voice booms across the arena, amplified by magic. "Witness the end of a false emperor! When the sun touches this blade, the Draegor curse will be complete! And I will rise as your true ruler!"
He raises the blade high.
The first ray of sunlight touches the metal.
And I realize with horrible clarity: I'm too late.
I'm too late to save him.
But then Cassian lifts his head. His eyes meet mine across the distance.
And he smiles.
Not a sad smile. Not a goodbye smile.
A smile that says: I knew you'd come.
Then he does something impossible.
He breaks the silver chains with his bare hands.