Cassandra's POV
The executioner's blade caught the morning sun, and I couldn't breathe.
I am innocent! my father's voice rang across the plaza. Duke Silvercrest of the North knelt on the execution platform, hands bound behind his back, silver hair whipping in the wind. The evidence against me is forged! I swear on my honor
Traitors have no honor, the Queen Regent's cold voice cut through the crowd.
My eyes burned, but I refused to look away. Then I felt it, the weight of someone's stare.
I turned my head slightly.
Across the execution plaza, standing apart from the crowd, a man watched me instead of the platform. Tall. Dark-haired. Dressed in black and crimson, Southern colors.
Our eyes met.
His were storm-gray and held something I couldn't name. Not satisfaction. Not triumph.
Guilt.
Lord Adrian Ravenshade. The Shadow Duke. The man whose testimony had condemned my father.
He was watching me cry.
Something hot and fierce surged through me. I wanted to scream at him. To claw that expression off his face.
Instead, I held his gaze. Let him see exactly what he'd done.
My mother's fingers dug into my arm. Don't look away, Cassandra. He would want you to witness this. To remember.
I was twenty-six years old, educated in strategy and politics, raised to someday lead. But in this moment, I was just a daughter watching her father die.
The executioner raised the blade higher.
No! I screamed, lurching forward.
Guards blocked my path instantly. The crowd pressed in from all sides—hundreds of nobles and commoners come to watch the great Duke fall. I could smell their sweat, their fear, their excitement.
Father! My voice cracked.
He turned his head. Our eyes met across the distance. Even now, kneeling in chains, he looked noble. Unbroken.
Survive, he mouthed silently. Fight.
The blade fell.
The sound, metal on flesh, on bone would haunt me forever.
My mother's scream tore through the plaza. She collapsed against me, her weight suddenly too heavy, her breath coming in horrible gasps. I tried to hold her up, but my own legs were shaking.
Mama, please
Her eyes rolled back. She crumpled to the cobblestones.
Help her! I dropped to my knees, cradling her head. Someone help!
But the guards were already moving. Rough hands grabbed my shoulders, yanking me away from her.
No! She needs a physician! Please!
Move along, a guard growled. The execution is finished.
I twisted in their grip, watching as servants lifted my mother's limp body. Her face was gray. Her lips blue.
Mama!
They dragged me through the crowd. People stepped back, staring. Some looked sympathetic. Most looked satisfied. The Northern faction had fallen. The South had won.
The guards shoved me toward a black carriage.
Lady Silvercrest.
That voice. Deep. Controlled.
I spun around.
Lord Adrian Ravenshade stood three paces away. Up close, he was even more striking—sharp features, guarded eyes, a jaw tight with tension.
Don't. My voice shook with rage. Don't you dare speak to me.
I need to warn you
Warn me? I laughed, the sound broken. You murdered my father and now you want to WARN me?
The Queen Regent plans to seize your estates today. Your brother will be arrested. His eyes burned into mine. If you fight them, they'll kill him. You need to cooperate until—
Until what? Until you finish destroying my family?
Something flickered across his face. Pain? Impossible.
I know you hate me, he said quietly. You should. But your father— He stopped, jaw clenching. There are things you don't understand. Things I'm only beginning to—
My lady! Commander Thorne's voice cut through the plaza. The carriage is waiting.
Adrian's hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for me. Instead, he stepped back.
Survive this, he said, so low only I could hear. Please. Just survive.
Then he turned and walked away.
I stood frozen, hating the fact that my heart was pounding.
Hating that his eyes had looked almost... desperate.
Commander Thorne grabbed my arm. Move.
As the carriage pulled away, I looked back once.
Adrian Ravenshade stood alone in the plaza, watching me leave.
And for reasons I couldn't explain, I couldn't look away either.
The estate was already being ransacked when we arrived.
Soldiers swarmed through every room like ants on a carcass. They carried out furniture, ripped paintings from walls, dumped drawers onto floors. Our ancestral home, built two hundred years ago, was being gutted.
Stop! I ran toward a soldier carrying my mother's jewelry box. That belonged to her grandmother!
He didn't even look at me. Just kept walking.
Commander Thorne stepped into my path. He was tall, scarred, with eyes like chips of ice. By order of the Queen Regent, all Silvercrest property is forfeit to the Crown. Seized as payment for your father's treason.
He wasn't a traitor! The evidence was—
The evidence was reviewed by Lord Adrian Ravenshade himself, Thorne interrupted. The Shadow Duke found your father guilty. Or do you question his judgment?
Adrian Ravenshade. The name burned like acid.
I question everything, I said through gritted teeth.
Thorne smiled coldly. Best learn to keep such thoughts to yourself.
A servant rushed down the stairs, face pale. Commander! The Duchess she's
What? I pushed past Thorne. What about my mother?
The servant's eyes filled with tears. I'm so sorry, my lady. She's gone. Her heart... it just gave out.
The world tilted.
My mother. Dead.
In one day, I'd lost both parents.
No, I whispered. No, that's not I need to see her
There's no time, Thorne said. Your brother is being arrested as we speak.
As if summoned by his words, a commotion erupted upstairs. Shouting. Crashing.
Marcus! I bolted for the stairs.
My seventeen-year-old brother fought like a wildcat as four guards hauled him down. His face was bloodied, his shirt torn. When he saw me, his eyes went wide with panic.
Cass! Run!
Marcus! I lunged for him.
Thorne caught my wrist, his grip bruising. Your brother is arrested for conspiring with your father. He'll be tried for treason.
He's seventeen! He knew nothing!
Then he'll hang innocent. Thorne leaned close, his breath hot on my face. Or perhaps... he doesn't have to hang at all. That depends entirely on you.
Ice flooded my veins. What do you mean?
Behave. Follow orders. Accept your new circumstances without complaint. His smile was a predator's. Your brother lives only as long as you obey. Understood?
Marcus thrashed in the guards' grip. Don't listen to him, Cass! Don't let them
A guard hit him across the face. Blood sprayed.
Stop! I screamed. I'll behave! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't hurt him!
Thorne released my wrist. Wise choice. Take the boy away.
They dragged Marcus toward the doors. He looked back at me, terror and fury warring on his young face.
I'll fix this, I promised desperately. Marcus, I swear, I'll
The doors slammed shut.
Silence fell. Heavy and suffocating.
I stood alone in the wreckage of our home, surrounded by strangers stealing our lives piece by piece.
A servant—old Marjory, who'd served our family forty years—pressed something into my hand. Found this in your father's study, she whispered. They missed it.
Before I could respond, she hurried away.
I looked down at the small leather journal in my palm. My father's private writings.
Hours later, after the soldiers finally left, I sat in the empty library and opened the journal with shaking hands.
Most entries were mundane. Meeting notes. Policy observations. Then I reached the final page.
My father's handwriting, usually so controlled, looked rushed. Almost frantic.
Fifth of Autumn. If you're reading this, I'm dead. Cassandra—survive. Trust no one. The evidence against me will be perfect because it was created by someone brilliant. Someone close. Someone we all trust. The truth is buried deep, but it exists. Find A.R. He suspects something is wrong. Together, you might—
The entry ended mid-sentence. As if he'd been interrupted.
A.R.
Adrian Ravenshade.
I remembered his face in the plaza. The guilt in his eyes. His desperate please survive.
My father's last words said to FIND him. To work WITH him.
But Adrian had testified against him. Had sent him to death.
Unless...
Unless he'd been manipulated too.
My hands clenched around the journal. Nothing made sense. But one thing was clear—Adrian Ravenshade was at the center of everything.
Enemy or ally, I needed answers.
A knock on the library door made me jump.
A royal messenger stood in the doorway, his face blank. Lady Silvercrest. The Queen Regent summons you to the palace. Immediately.
My blood turned to ice. Why?
His face was carefully blank. Lord Ravenshade requested your presence. He says it's urgent.
Adrian wanted to see me.
The man who'd killed my father. The man my father trusted. The man whose eyes had begged me to survive.
What did he want now?