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Chapter 10 - 10. Waiting for Fire: Seraphine

Trust is a blade that cuts both ways, sometimes the deepest wounds come from the hands you learn to hold.

__________

The soft knock at the door barely made a sound in the large bedroom Lucien had 'gifted' her after the training that left her heart racing more than her muscles aching.

The new room stood in sharp contrast to the cramped servant's quarters where she had changed into her training clothes earlier. Here, the walls were draped with rich tapestries, the scent of burning incense lingered lightly in the air, and a low fire flickered in the hearth, throwing warm shadows over the polished wooden floor. A heavy oak table sat near the window, laid with a glass of water, and a thick rug softened the space beneath her feet.

"Seraphine of Faedin," the stranger said gently, "Master has gone. What would you like to eat?"

Seraphine looked up slowly, blinking as if waking from a dream. She yanked the door open, eyes sharp and demanding. "Master?"

The attendant hesitated, shifting nervously. "The Master who brought you here, Seraphine of Faedin."

Her eyes narrowed. Why did the creature insist on calling her by her full name and town? "Oh. He left? Where did he go? Tell me."

The attendant's gaze dropped away. "That is not for me to say. He will tell you himself, if he chooses."

Seraphine's eyes took him in. She hadn't expected any demon to look this human, except for the two sharp horns curving from his head.

She was glad she didn't have to face those nightmares called demons.

"What's your name?" she asked. If survival meant making allies, then a demon wasn't the worst choice, especially in a palace this vast.

"Ergenik," he answered curtly.

"Ergenik, tell me where Lucien went. I just want to know. I won't say you told me."

"Seraphine of Faedin. It's not for you to know, Mas—"

"Call me Seraphine," she interrupted softly.

Ergenik's sharp eyes stayed on her a moment longer before he finally nodded, lips still tight.

Seraphine closed the door behind him and sank onto the bed's edge. Her fingers traced the embroidery on the tapestry across the room, but her mind was far from the warmth the fire offered.

After training, she hadn't asked where he was going. He had given her a room to wash off sweat and change into something clean. She didn't think he would leave her alone in this cold palace. But he had.

He left without a word, as if she didn't deserve one, like she was a piece on a board she didn't understand.

The fire crackled softly, but inside her, a slow burn grew, frustration tangled with curiosity, and something dangerously close to fascination. Lucien. The name was strange on her tongue but pulled at her like a thread she couldn't ignore. She remembered how he looked at her during training, calm, unreadable, strong. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe she was starting to like him.

But liking him came with a price. She knew that well. The moment she let her guard slip, she would be the one left burning.

Seraphine realized that here, in this palace of shadows and secrets, survival wasn't about strength alone, it was about knowing which truths to chase, and which to bury deep beneath the silence.

***

Ergenik's footsteps returned softly after he entered the room. He set down a simple plate of food on the heavy oak table. Bread, salted meat, and a small bowl of dark fruit. When he asked what she wanted to eat, she didn't answer right away.

"Anything," she finally said, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Human food only."

The scent was heavenly. Before she could dwell more on praising the food, hunger pried her from her thoughts. She reached for the bread first, tearing a piece and biting into it, the salt on the cooked meat grounding her in the moment. He had given her another plate containing rice porridge, adding that it would strengthen her bones, also pairing it with the chicken soup that held her nose in a chokehold.

She ate slowly, each bite a fragile tether to the present, a small rebellion against the unease tightening in her chest. The food was tasty, though nothing like home, but it filled the emptiness inside her better than silence ever could.

When she finished, she wiped her hands on the napkin he had placed in the tray. She chugged down a glass of prune juice, looking toward the door, waiting for answers that might never come.

Seraphine rose and moved to the window. Outside, the light was fading, shadows lengthening and darkening. What kind of master leaves without telling his apprentice where he's going? she wondered. And why couldn't Ergenik or anyone say a word about it?

Her fingers gripped the window frame. This place, this palace, was full of secrets. She would uncover them, whether they wanted her to or not.

The weight settled in her chest, hard and certain. The fire inside her was no longer just from training. It was something else, something unnamed, growing, waiting to be faced.

Seraphine stepped away from the window, her eyes falling to the flickering fire. The warmth felt distant, nothing like the home she once knew. Back then, before everything broke, there was light and laughter. Her mother's voice a gentle song, halls alive with footsteps and voices.

But that was before the betrayal.

She saw the faces again, her father's blank stare, her mother's refusal to meet her eyes, and Cedric's harsh words that shattered her future. The nobles' whispers turned sharp and cold, breaking the fragile hope she had held close.

How long had their lies lived behind those smiles? How long had her family planned this? The wedding was never hers. It was a performance, and she had been the pawn cast aside when the play ended.

Her heart ached, not for lost love, but for the absence of something she needed most, loyalty, a bloodline that should have sheltered her but left her bleeding.

She swallowed the bitterness. There was no space left for tears. Only the cold resolve that had settled in her bones since that night.

Before the sound.

Before the message, sealed and sharp, telling her she no longer belonged.

Before Lucien's voice, equal parts invitation and warning.

Before power.

She was no longer Cedric's bride. She made that clear when she killed the monster wearing his face.

Her fingers brushed the carved wood of the bedpost, grounding herself in the now. She had no time for memories, not here, not now. Whatever came next, she would face it. She had survived this far. She would survive what was coming. She would not be caught by fire unprepared.

***

Before the room could settle again, a soft sound pulled her attention, a knock on the heavy door. Ergenik's voice followed, lower this time.

"Seraphine, Master sent word. He asks you to rest. More training comes tomorrow."

She bit back a sharp reply. Rest? She barely had time to breathe. But she nodded to herself. Patience was its own kind of weapon.

Her eyes roamed the dark corners of the room, the carved shapes that seemed to watch her. If Lucien wanted to keep secrets, he would find she was no ordinary student.

"Tomorrow," she said, her voice low and sure, "Tomorrow, I'll be ready."

Just then, the door creaked open slowly. Lucien stepped inside, his eyes sharp and unreadable.

"Seraphine," he said quietly, stepping closer. "There's something you need to know. If you don't understand it—"

He stopped, choosing his words carefully, and his gaze darkened.

"This is far more dangerous than you think. You have something to do for me."

He reached out, but before he could say more, the sound of soft, lady-like footsteps echoed down the hall.

Lucien's eyes flicked to the door, tension tightening his jaw.

"We don't have much time. It's about Kaela. She is—"

Kaela?

His words hung in the air as the door suddenly burst open, and—

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