A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts.
It was morning but I was already tired of the constant knocks.
I couldn't even have peace.
A court servant entered, looking stiff. He didn't look me in the eye. None of them ever did.
"You've been summoned, Princess."
"By whom?" My voice came out hoarse.
"The council, Your Grace. You are to be seen."
He didn't wait for questions.
Just bowed and left.
To be seen? By whom?
I simply followed the servant down the long corridor, my steps light but unsure.
The summons had come without a reason and I hadn't even bothered to ask. My dress was plain, the soft colour of ash, and the sleeves were too long. I hadn't changed my hair or touched my face.
What was the point?
The palace halls were silent, tall crystal lamps lit around them casting a cold glow. The council hall wasn't far, and the heavy doors were already visible at the end of the curved walkway.
But just before I reached it, I stopped.
I heard footsteps.
I moved to the shadows, just enough to see the curved entryway ahead.
Caspian.
He was walking toward the hall doors. His shoulders looked tense, and his jaw was rigid like a storm waiting to break loose. And beside him, trying to keep up with his pace was Selene in her crimson gown.
She touched his arm, letting it linger. Not with affection but with intent.
He didn't stop for her nor did he speak.
But he also didn't shake her off.
Selene leaned in and whispered something I couldn't hear.
Caspian's eyes didn't meet hers. He looked ahead towards the chamber.
And then the guards opened the doors for him and he walked inside.
Alone.
Selene didn't follow. She stayed by the pillars, watching him disappear into the council hall.
I stood there frozen caught between fury and ache.
Then I turned before anyone could see me.
The servant called out, confused but I walked past him without answering.
Past the pillars.
Past the staring guards.
Back to my chambers.
-----
In the High Council hall...
The air was sharp with the scent of iron and cold stone.
Caspian walked in without waiting for permission. He didn't need it and he certainly didn't want it. The guards at the door hadn't dared to stop him.
King Malric looked up from his throne, his expression barely masking the disdain under his thin smile.
"How rare," Malric said, voice laced with mockery. "The beast remembers the way to the hall."
Caspian stopped at the edge of the firepit that crackled low between them.
"I didn't come for games," he said. "Something's wrong."
Malric arched a brow. "There's always something wrong with you."
"My heart beats."
The words silenced the room. The gathered councilmen stilled. Even Marcus, who was lounging against a pillar, lifted his head with interest, while Daron just frowned.
Only Malric did well to mask his shock. "How poetic."
"It hasn't beat in a century," Caspian snapped. "This started after that night. After her."
Something flickered in Malric's eyes, but he didn't rise from his throne.
"And you're telling me this why? Looking for sympathy?"
Caspian's voice was quiet and deadly.
"I'm looking for an answer."
Malric finally looked up, and this time, his expression was sharp. "Well, count yourself lucky, you just benefited from a marriage you didn't want. Whether you like it or not."
"That's why you brought her here. For benefits?"
Malric shrugged. "It's why I married her to you."
Caspian's jaw clenched. "You expect me to believe this wasn't about control?"
Malric stepped forward, tone clipped. "Your madness is beyond control. You slaughtered half a border province for breathing the wrong air. The court wanted your head. I gave them a wedding instead."
"You chained me to her."
"No," Malric said coldly. "I chained you to purpose. You may not care for thrones, but the kingdom needed a future. Her bloodline is ancient. Her father's kingdom was a festering ruin. I salvaged it, bought his loyalty and his secrets and gave you something sacred to bind you."
Caspian didn't move, but the air shifted with power pulsing beneath his skin.
"She isn't a tool."
"No," Malric said. "But hate me all you want, she belongs to me. To Drayveil and must do our bidding."
There it was. The truth in its foulest form.
"You think I won't burn this place down to save her from you?" Caspian asked quietly.
Malric's mouth curled. "I won't doubt that. But you barely know her but deep down even you know that somewhere in her veins, in her silence, in her presence, there's something older than both of us. And you're just as curious as I am."
Caspian stared at him. Not with anger. But something worse.
Pity.
"I didn't come here to ask your permission," he said. "I came to see if you'd confess what kind of coward you really are."
Before Malric could reply, the chamber doors opened.
Daron entered silently, perfectly timed.
"Interrupting something?" he asked smoothly.
Malric looked pleased to be interrupted.
"Join us. We were just speaking of your sister-in-law."
Daron's eyes slid to Caspian, then back to the king. "Sister-in-law? What binds her to Caspian?"
"It's sealed by blood and throne," Malric said.
"Not soul," Daron replied, too softly.
Caspian's head turned.
Daron smiled. "I hear she sleeps alone."
The silence that followed was sharp.
"Is that your concern now?" Caspian said without emotion.
"I only ask because the court wonders," Daron replied. "If you don't want her, perhaps someone else should."
"You'd risk that?"
Daron stepped closer holding his gaze. "I'd enjoy it."
Before Caspian could reply, Marcus strolled in behind them, slow and smiling like he'd heard enough from the hallway.
"Well, isn't this cosy," he drawled, tossing a dried stick in the air and catching it in his mouth. "The mad prince, the unwanted bride, and the other prince who wants her."
Caspian didn't even look at him. "Go find something to play with, Marcus."
"I would, but your love life is far more entertaining," Marcus said, settling lazily in a chair. "Rumour says you haven't touched her yet. That's a shame, really. She's quite... delicate."
"I said," Caspian growled, voice rougher now, "she is not yours."
"And yet," Marcus said, eyes glittering, "she isn't yours either."
That earned a sharp turn of the head.
But Marcus only grinned wider.
Malric didn't interfere. He watched like a man enjoying a bear fight he'd secretly bet against both sides of.
Caspian didn't respond with threats.
He didn't need to.
He turned and walked to the exit, every step he took coiled in silence and strength.
But just before disappearing into the dark corridor, he said,
"Keep circling her, and I will remind you all why they call me mad."
And then he was gone.
Outside the chamber, Selene leaned against a pillar, waiting.
When Caspian emerged, she straightened, walking beside him like she belonged by his side.
"You're losing control," she said quietly.
He didn't look at her.
She tilted her head. "And you've stopped feeding properly. Since her."
Caspian's jaw tensed.
Selene reached out, her hand brushing his forearm. "You could still come to me. Like before."
He stopped walking. Looked at her finally.
"I fed on you because you were clean. Don't think it's anything more than that."
"And it's something with her."
"Yes," he said. "She's everything."
"She'll ruin you," Selene warned, voice colder now. "Everything you've built."
Caspian turned fully to her, with an expression unreadable.
"Then I'll gladly burn with it."
He walked away.
That night, Caspian stood outside Lyra's door.
The candlelight beneath it flickered once.
He did not knock.
He did not enter.
Even though his soul tugged at him, aching, restless and burning, he stayed still.
He placed one hand on the wood, battling the urge. Then he brought his hand down and turned to leave... But the doors behind him swung open.
---
I had waited, long enough to stop pretending I wasn't listening for his footsteps.
And when they finally came, I didn't hesitate.
I opened the door.
And there he was, his hand just falling from the wood, his back beginning to turn away.
He froze.
And so did I.