The dagger's hilt dug into Sera's wrist as she paced the length of her chambers, its weight a constant reminder of the priestess's whispered warning. Dawn's pale light filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting fractured ruby patterns across the polar bear fur rug—another ostentatious gift from the northern lords. Three days had passed since their arrival, and the air still reeked of their pine resin perfume and the subtle iron tang of concealed weapons.
A hesitant knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Enter."
The door creaked open to reveal Kaelan, his normally tanned face sallow with pain. The bandage at his shoulder had darkened overnight, the linen sticking to what she could now see was a festering wound. He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his breathing shallow.
"You look terrible," Sera said, crossing the room to steady him.
Kaelan managed a weak smile. "You always did have a way with words." He collapsed into the gilded chair by the fireplace, wincing as the movement pulled at his injury. "The physicians have given up. Whatever those creatures were in the cellar, their claws left something... unnatural."
Sera knelt before him, the dagger momentarily forgotten in her sleeve. "Let me see."
Peeling back the bandage revealed a horror—the gash pulsed with angry red flesh, but it was the black veins spiderwebbing outward that made her stomach twist. They throbbed with a faint blue luminescence, mirroring the eerie glow of Varian's scars.
Sera's fingers hovered over the wound. "When did this start?"
"The cellar." Kaelan's gaze locked onto hers, his pupils dilated with pain. "Right after those things knelt to you. Tell me you felt it too—that unnatural pull."
A chill crawled down Sera's spine. She reached for the wound—
The chamber door exploded inward, cracking against the stone wall.
Varian filled the doorway, his storm-gray eyes immediately zeroing in on Kaelan's exposed shoulder. For a fraction of a second, something like recognition flickered across his face—then his expression hardened into icy disdain.
"Out."
Kaelan rose slowly, his hand drifting toward his sword belt. "We were just—"
"I don't care." Varian crossed the room in three strides, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Touch her again, and I'll let you experience what happens when the curse takes someone slowly."
The threat hung in the air between them, underscored by the faint blue pulsing of both Kaelan's wound and Varian's scars.
When the door closed behind Kaelan, Varian gripped Sera's wrist, his thumb pressing into her racing pulse. "You're playing with forces you don't understand, princess."
She yanked her arm free. "He's dying!"
"Then let him." Varian caught a loose strand of her hair, winding it around his finger until he could tilt her head back. His breath was warm against her lips. "Unless you'd prefer I end his suffering now?"
Sera's chest heaved. The dagger in her sleeve felt heavier than ever.
Varian's free hand traced the column of her throat, pausing over her fluttering pulse. "You still don't see it, do you?" His lips brushed her ear. "That wound isn't just infected. It's changing him."
A knock at the door shattered the moment.
"Your Majesty!" A guard's panicked voice. "The prisoner from the western village—he's awake, and he's asking for the empress!"
Varian's grip tightened momentarily before he released her. "It seems your admirers are multiplying." He stepped back, his scars flaring brighter. "Come, little queen. Let's see what fresh hell awaits."