Seraphina's POV
You're wrong.
Cassian's silver eyes flash dangerously across the war table. Excuse me?
About the eastern trade routes. I point to the map spread between us, refusing to back down even though every advisor in the room is staring at me like I've lost my mind. You think my father controls them through the merchant guilds. He doesn't. He controls them through the guild masters' mistresses.
Silence.
Then Mikhael—Cassian's closest advisor—laughs coldly. And we're supposed to believe pillow talk from a disgraced princess?
Believe what you want. I keep my eyes on Cassian. But Duke Aldric has been having affairs with three different women whose lovers run the eastern guilds. He buys them jewelry, funds their households, and in return, they convince their men to vote however my father wants. It's been going on for years.
Cassian leans forward, studying the map with new interest. Names.
I give them. Every detail I know from years of watching my father's careful games, from being the invisible daughter who nobody thought was paying attention.
This is absurd, Mikhael interrupts. Your Grace, she could be feeding us lies. Setting a trap.
Could I? I turn to face him directly. Then explain how I know about the secret meeting your spy network missed last month. The one where my father promised Lord Westmore's eldest son a position on the Golden Council in exchange for supporting the war effort.
Mikhael's face goes pale. How do you
Because I was standing outside the door when it happened, I say flatly. I'm very good at being invisible when I need to be. It's what happens when your family treats you like furniture.
Cassian's mouth quirks into something almost like a smile.
For three days now, we've been doing this, me sharing Golden Court secrets, him asking razor-sharp questions that force me to prove I'm not lying. It's exhausting and exhilarating in equal measure.
And somewhere between the arguments and the strategy sessions, I've started to see him differently.
He's brilliant. Ruthless, yes, but fair. He actually listens when I speak, considers my ideas instead of dismissing them. And when he catches me in a mistake, he doesn't mock—he teaches.
It's more respect than my own father ever showed me.
The council is dismissed, Cassian says suddenly. Everyone except Seraphina. We have more to discuss.
Mikhael looks like he wants to argue, but one glance at Cassian's face stops him. The advisors file out, leaving us alone.
The door closes with a heavy thud.
You're making enemies, Cassian observes, moving around the table toward me.
Mikhael doesn't trust me. I know.
Can you blame him? You're a Golden Court noble. His family was destroyed by your kind.
The words sting, but they're fair. Then why do you trust me?
He stops close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. I don't. Trust is earned. But I believe you hate your family as much as I do. That's enough for now.
Enough for what?
Enough to keep working together. His eyes search my face. You're good at this. Better than I expected. You see patterns others miss.
The compliment shouldn't matter. But it does.
My father trained me, I admit. He wanted me to be the perfect political wife—charming in public, sharp in private. Someone who could manage court intrigue without anyone noticing. He just never expected me to use those skills against him.
His mistake. Cassian's smile is sharp. Their loss is my gain.
We stand there, the war table between us covered in maps and papers documenting all my family's secrets. Outside, sunset paints the sky orange and red.
I have a question, I say carefully.
Ask.
This alliance we have—when does it end? When you've extracted all the information you need from me? When my usefulness runs out?
Something dangerous flickers in his expression. What are you really asking, Seraphina?
I'm asking what happens when this stops being a transaction. The words tumble out before I can stop them. When the political games are over and we're just... this. Whatever this is.
He moves so fast I don't have time to react.
Suddenly he's around the table, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him. Close enough that I can see flecks of darker silver in his eyes.
You want to know what this is? His voice is low, dangerous, thrilling. It's a disaster waiting to happen. It's the Golden Court's worst nightmare. It's—
Not an answer, I interrupt, refusing to be intimidated even though my heart is racing.
His jaw clenches. You're supposed to be my enemy.
I know.
I'm supposed to hate you. Use you and discard you like they did.
But you won't. I don't know where this certainty comes from, but I feel it bone-deep. Because you're nothing like them. You're better.
Don't. The word comes out harsh. Don't make me into something I'm not. I'm not your hero, Seraphina. I'm using you just like everyone else.
Are you? I step closer, watching his eyes widen slightly. Because it feels like something else. Like maybe you're as confused about this as I am.
For a moment—just one heartbeat—I see past his cold mask to something raw underneath. Something that looks almost like longing.
Then he grabs my shoulders.
Not roughly, but firm enough that I gasp.
You want to know what this is? he asks, voice rough. It's dangerous. For both of us. If my council knew how much I'm starting to— He stops abruptly.
Starting to what?
Care, he finishes quietly. How much I'm starting to care whether you survive this. Whether you get your revenge. Whether you
A bell clangs urgently outside.
Cassian releases me instantly, stepping back. Alarm bell. Something's wrong.
Elara bursts through the door, sword drawn. Your Grace! Golden Court soldiers spotted on the eastern border. They're not attacking, just watching. But there's something else.
What?
They have a hostage. A girl claiming to be Elara's eyes flick to me. Claiming to be Lady Seraphina's personal maid from the Golden Palace. Says she has urgent information about a plot to assassinate you both.
My blood runs cold. What's her name?
She says her name is Anna. Red hair, green eyes, about twenty years old.
Anna. My maid for five years. One of the few servants who was genuinely kind to me.
It's a trap, Cassian says immediately.
Maybe. I turn to him. Or maybe she really does have information. Anna was loyal. If she risked coming here
Then she's either desperate or being used as bait.
We have to at least talk to her.
Absolutely not. You're not going anywhere near those soldiers.
I wasn't asking permission. I straighten my spine. Anna risked her life to come here. The least I can do is hear what she has to say.
Cassian's eyes flash with fury. You're my wife. That means you follow my orders.
Your political prisoner-wife, I correct. And I'm going. With or without you.
We glare at each other, the tension from moments ago transforming into something sharper, more volatile.
Fine, he finally growls. But I'm coming with you. And if this is a trap, you let me handle it.
Agreed.
As we stride toward the door together, Cassian catches my wrist.
After this, he says quietly, we finish that conversation. No more running from whatever this is.
Before I can respond, he's pulling me through the corridors toward the eastern wall.
But as we run, one thought circles my mind:
Anna would never betray me.
Which means someone forced her to come here.
And whoever's using my friend as bait knows exactly how to manipulate me.
The trap isn't just for Cassian.
It's for both of us.