Kade's POV
The girl is lying.
I've interrogated rebels, spies, and traitors for ten years. I know every tell, every nervous habit, every micro-expression that reveals guilt. And this girl—this "Just Sera"—is the most obvious liar I've ever met.
Yet somehow, she's also the most intriguing.
I stand outside the prisoner tent as night falls, listening to her breathe. She hasn't cried. Hasn't begged. Just sits in silence like she's waiting for death.
Most rebels break within hours. They scream, plead, offer information for mercy.
She does none of that.
"You've been standing there for twenty minutes, sir," Ash says behind me. "Either go in or walk away."
I should walk away. She's just another rebel. Execute her and move on.
But something stops me.
That moment when we touched. That surge of power. I've felt magic before—weak sparks from royal bloodline soldiers. This was different. This was a wildfire barely contained.
And her eyes. Even hidden under grime and a permanent squint, I caught a flash of color when she looked at me. Not brown like she claimed.
Violet.
Like the old royal family.
"Bring her to my command tent," I order. "Alone. No guards inside."
Ash raises an eyebrow. "Sir, that's against protocol. She could be dangerous."
I almost laugh. "If she wanted to hurt me, she would have let my soldiers die. She saved thirty-two men today, Ash. Rebels don't do that."
"Then what is she?"
That's exactly what I need to find out.
They bring her in chains. Unnecessary, but my soldiers are angry about the attack. They want blood.
She stumbles when they push her, catching herself before she falls. Her hair hangs in dirty tangles around her face. Her dress is still soaked with blood from the wounded.
But she lifts her chin and meets my eyes. Defiant even in chains.
The soldiers leave. Lock the tent. Now it's just me and her.
"Sit," I say, pointing to a chair.
She sits. Her hands are shaking but she hides them in her lap.
"Water?" I offer.
She blinks, surprised. "What?"
"You've been locked up for six hours without food or water. That's cruel." I pour a cup and set it in front of her. "Drink."
She stares at the cup like it might be poisoned. Smart girl.
"It's not drugged," I say. "If I wanted information through torture, I wouldn't waste time with poison."
She picks up the cup with shaking hands and drinks. When she's done, she sets it down carefully.
"Thank you," she whispers.
Polite. Even as a prisoner. Who taught her manners?
I sit across from her, studying her face in the lamplight. She keeps her eyes down, hiding them from me.
"Look at me," I command.
"I am looking—"
"Properly. Stop squinting."
Her jaw clenches. For a moment I think she'll refuse. Then slowly, she raises her head.
Our eyes meet.
Violet. Clear, unmistakable violet.
My heart stops.
There's only one bloodline in Ashenvale with violet eyes. The Ashcroft royal family. King Matthias had them. Queen Elara had them.
And their daughter Princess Seraphina had them.
But Princess Seraphina died five years ago in the coup. Everyone knows that. King Dorian himself confirmed her death.
Unless...
"Where are you from?" I ask quietly.
"The Dust Quarter."
"Before that."
"Nowhere. I've always lived there."
"Liar." I lean forward. "People don't appear from nowhere. You have education, training, and magic that takes years to develop. So I'll ask again. Where are you from?"
Her hands twist in her lap. "I don't remember. I was sick years ago. Fever. I lost my memories."
Convenient amnesia. Classic lie.
But there's real pain in her eyes when she says it. Like she wishes she could forget.
"The note we found," I say, changing tactics. "The one warning the rebels about my search. That was your handwriting."
She goes very still.
"I didn't write it."
"Don't insult my intelligence. I had three scholars examine it. The handwriting matches samples we found in your room." I pull out the note and spread it on the table. "You've been feeding information to the rebellion. You've been protecting them. Why?"
"Because your king is a murderer."
The words hang in the air like a blade.
I should be angry. Should punish her for treason. Instead, I feel something crack inside my chest.
"Explain," I say carefully.
She looks up, and for the first time, I see pure rage in her violet eyes.
"Five years ago, King Dorian murdered his brother and sister-in-law. He slaughtered innocent people during the Harvest Festival. He blamed it on the king and queen, called them tyrants, and stole the throne." Her voice shakes. "The rebellion isn't fighting against Ashenvale. They're fighting against a usurper."
"That's not what happened. King Matthias was planning to—"
"He was planning nothing!" She slams her chained hands on the table. "Matthias was a good king! He cared about his people! Dorian lied to everyone, and you—" She chokes on the words. "You believed him."
The passion in her voice. The way she defends a dead king like she knew him personally.
"How do you know this?" I ask. "You would have been a child when the coup happened."
"I..." She stops. Realizing she's said too much.
But I'm already connecting pieces. Violet eyes. Hidden identity. Intimate knowledge of the royal family. Magic powerful enough to heal fatal wounds.
And that sketch the rebellion has been distributing—the face of Princess Seraphina.
"Stand up," I order.
She stands, confused.
I walk around her slowly. She's thin from malnutrition, but underneath I see the bone structure. The way she holds herself when she forgets to slouch. The grace she tries to hide.
I stop in front of her and reach out slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn't. I wipe dirt from her face, revealing smooth skin underneath. Aristocratic features. A small scar near her temple—the kind you get from wearing a crown that's too heavy.
My hand freezes.
"What's your real name?" I whisper.
"Sera."
"Your full name."
Tears fill her eyes. "I don't have one anymore. It died with my parents."
Her parents.
Not "the king and queen." Not "the royal family."
Her parents.
"You're her," I breathe. "You're Princess Seraphina."
She jerks back like I've slapped her. "No."
"Stop lying. I can see it now. You're the missing princess. The heir to the throne." Horror washes over me. "And I've been hunting your supporters for five years."
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are!" I grab her shoulders. "That's why you hide your eyes. Why you have no last name. Why you know things about the coup that only someone inside the palace would know. You didn't lose your memory. You lost your entire life."
She's crying now, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on her face.
"Please," she whispers. "Please don't tell anyone. If Dorian finds out I'm alive, he'll kill me. He'll kill everyone who helped me. Please, Kade."
She used my name. Not "General." Not "sir."
Kade.
Like she's begging me as a person, not a soldier.
"I've been serving your enemy," I say, the words tasting like ash. "Everything I've done for five years—every battle I won, every rebel I killed—it was all for the man who murdered your family."
"You didn't know."
"That doesn't matter!" I release her and step back. "I'm the monster in your story, Seraphina. I'm the War Beast who crushed your supporters. How many people did I kill who were trying to protect you?"
"That's not your fault—"
"Isn't it?" I laugh bitterly. "I pride myself on seeing the truth. On being too smart to be fooled. But Dorian played me like a puppet for five years. And you—" I look at her. "You've been alone this whole time. Hiding. Surviving. While I helped your uncle hunt you."
The tent flap opens. A soldier sticks his head in.
"Sir, urgent message from the capital. King Dorian wants a report on the prisoner. He's heard we captured someone important connected to the rebellion. He wants them brought to the palace for... questioning."
My blood turns to ice.
If I send Seraphina to the palace, Dorian will recognize her. And he'll kill her.
But if I refuse, I'm committing treason.
"Tell the king..." I pause, making a choice that will change everything. "Tell him the prisoner died during interrogation. Too badly wounded from the battle."
The soldier looks confused. "Sir?"
"You heard me. The prisoner is dead. Burn the body. No evidence."
"Yes, sir." He leaves.
I turn back to Seraphina. She's staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Why?" she whispers. "Why would you lie for me?"
I don't know how to answer. Because it's right? Because I owe her? Because something in me recognized her the first moment I saw her, even under all that dirt and lies?
"Because I'm done being Dorian's weapon," I say finally. "And because you're going to help me find proof that he murdered your family."
"What?"
"I've been investigating the coup for months. Something didn't add up. But I need evidence. Real evidence. And you—" I kneel in front of her so we're eye level. "You survived for five years right under his nose. That takes intelligence and strength. Help me expose him. Help me fix what I've broken."
She's quiet for a long moment. Then: "If I help you, and we fail, he'll kill us both."
"I know."
"And you're willing to risk that?"
I think about the past five years. The battles. The executions. The rebels who screamed that they were fighting for the true princess while I cut them down.
"Yes," I say. "I'm willing to risk everything."
She searches my face. Looking for lies. For tricks.
Then slowly, she nods.
"Okay. But I have one condition."
"Name it."
"We protect the people in my network. All of them. No arrests. No executions."
"Done."
She holds out her chained hands. "Then we have a deal... partner."
I unlock her chains. They fall to the ground with a clatter.
"We have a deal, Your Highness."
For the first time, I see her smile. It transforms her entire face.
Then the tent explodes inward, and soldiers flood in with weapons drawn.
"GENERAL NIGHTBORNE!" Commander Ash shouts. "Step away from the prisoner! You're under arrest for treason!"