Seraphine's POV
"You need to eat."
Cassian's voice startled me. I'd been sitting in the garden for hours, staring at nothing, trying not to think about Celestia's words. Permanent execution. Soul destroyed. Cease to exist.
Two days. I had two days left.
"I'm not hungry," I said quietly.
"That wasn't a request." He sat beside me on the stone bench, holding a plate piled with food. "You haven't eaten since yesterday. You'll make yourself sick."
"Does it matter?" The words came out bitter. "In two days, I'll be gone anyway."
His jaw tightened. "We're not giving up. I have people researching—"
"Research won't stop the entire Celestial Court." I looked at him, and my chest ached at the determination in his ice-blue eyes. "You should let me go. Turn me over to them. Maybe they'll leave your castle alone if you cooperate."
"Absolutely not."
"Cassian—"
"I said no." He shoved the plate into my hands. "Now eat. You're going to need your strength."
"For what? Dying?"
"For fighting." His voice was steel. "I didn't spend ten years surviving a curse just to watch them take you without a fight."
Something warm bloomed in my chest—something dangerous. I forced myself to look away and picked at the food. It was my favorite breakfast: fresh bread, cheese, and berries. Things I'd never been allowed to eat at Lord Viktor's manor.
"How did you know I like berries?" I asked.
"I pay attention." He said it like it was obvious. "You always pick them out first when Lyra brings you meals."
He'd been watching me. Noticing small things about me. The warmth in my chest grew stronger.
"You shouldn't waste time paying attention to me. You have a duchy to run."
"The duchy can wait. You can't." He stood up. "Finish eating. Then meet me in the training yard."
"The training yard? Why?"
"Because if you're going to face gods, you need to know how to fight back." He walked away before I could argue.
An hour later, I stood in the training yard, feeling ridiculous. Cassian had given me leather training clothes that actually fit—another thing he'd noticed, that all my dresses were too big.
"I don't know how to fight," I protested as he handed me a wooden practice sword.
"Then you'll learn." He picked up his own sword. "When the Celestial Court comes, they'll expect you to be weak. Scared. An easy target." His eyes met mine. "We're going to prove them wrong."
For the next hour, he taught me basic moves. How to block, how to dodge, how to strike. I was terrible at it. I dropped the sword three times and accidentally hit myself in the face once.
But Cassian never got frustrated. He was patient, adjusting my grip, correcting my stance with gentle touches that made my heart race.
"Better," he said when I finally managed to block his strike. "Again."
We practiced until my arms shook and sweat dripped down my face. When I finally collapsed on the ground, exhausted, Cassian sat beside me and handed me water.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked between gasps. "Why do you care so much?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "Ten years ago, when I got cursed, I accepted that I was going to die. I stopped caring about anything. Stopped trying to live, just existed." He looked at me. "Then you showed up, and suddenly dying seemed like a waste. Because there was finally something—someone—worth staying alive for."
My breath caught. "Cassian..."
"I know what the Oracle said. I know the risks." His hand found mine. "But I'd rather have two days of fighting for you than ten years of giving up."
Tears burned my eyes. No one had ever fought for me before. No one had ever thought I was worth the trouble.
"You barely know me," I whispered.
"I know enough." His thumb brushed across my knuckles. "I know you're brave even when you're terrified. I know you heal people even when it hurts you. I know you've been beaten down your whole life and somehow stayed kind." His voice softened. "That's more than enough."
Before I could respond, a servant girl hurried over—one I didn't recognize.
"Your Grace," she said, then looked at me with disgust. "And... it."
I flinched at the word, but Cassian's hand tightened on mine.
"Her name is Seraphine," he said coldly.
The servant sneered. "Why does she get special treatment? She's just a—"
"Get out."
The temperature in the yard seemed to drop ten degrees. Cassian's voice was quiet, but it carried a threat that made even me shiver.
"Your Grace, I only meant—"
"You insulted someone under my protection. You're fired. You have one hour to leave my castle." He stood up, pulling me with him. "And tell everyone else: anyone who disrespects Seraphine answers to me personally. Understood?"
The servant went pale and ran off.
I stared at Cassian in shock. "You didn't have to fire her."
"Yes, I did." He turned to me. "You're not 'just' anything. You're not a servant. You're not a thing to be used and thrown away." His hand cupped my cheek. "You're Seraphine. And anyone who can't see your worth doesn't belong here."
My heart hammered so hard I thought it might explode. The way he looked at me—like I mattered, like I was precious—made me feel things I'd never felt before.
Dangerous things.
"Cassian, we can't—the curse—"
"I don't care about the curse." His face was close to mine now. "Not anymore."
"But you'll die—"
"Then I'll die protecting you. I can live with that."
"I can't!" The words burst out of me. "I can't watch you die because of me. I've caused enough pain already."
He pulled back slightly, studying my face. "Is that what you think? That you cause pain?"
"Everyone I touch gets hurt. The angel came because of me. Celestia wants to destroy me. Now an entire court of gods is coming, and your castle will be a battlefield because I'm here." My voice broke. "Maybe everyone's right. Maybe I am dangerous."
"You are dangerous," Cassian agreed, and my heart sank. Then he smiled—really smiled, and it transformed his whole face. "You're dangerous because you make people want to be better. You make me want to fight instead of give up. That terrifies the gods because they're used to people giving up."
Before I could respond, Theron jogged over, his expression grim.
"Your Grace, we have a situation." He glanced at me. "A big one."
"What now?"
"A messenger arrived from the capital. Lady Morgana Silvain is on her way here. She'll arrive by tomorrow evening."
Cassian's expression darkened. "Why is Morgana coming here?"
"She claims she heard about your... miraculous recovery from the curse. She wants to discuss resuming your engagement." Theron's tone made it clear what he thought of that idea.
My stomach dropped. Engagement?
"I see." Cassian's voice was carefully neutral. "Thank you, Theron. Dismissed."
After Theron left, silence stretched between us. I felt cold suddenly, despite the sun.
"You're engaged?" I asked quietly.
"I was. Three years ago, before the curse got bad. I broke it off when I realized I was dying." He ran a hand through his hair. "Morgana's family is powerful. They've been trying to get me to reconsider for years."
"And now that you're better, she thinks..." I couldn't finish the sentence. Of course she'd come back. Cassian was a duke, powerful and wealthy. Why wouldn't she want him?
And what was I? A servant girl with a death sentence hanging over her head.
"Seraphine—"
"It's fine." I stepped back, putting distance between us. "You need to think about your future. About alliances and marriage and—and all the things dukes think about." I forced a smile. "I should go. I'm sure you have a lot to prepare."
I turned to leave, but he caught my wrist.
"I don't want Morgana."
Three words. Simple words. But they made my heart stop.
"You should," I said, pulling free. "She's a lady. I'm nothing. And in two days, I won't even exist."
I ran before he could see me cry.
That evening, I hid in my room, trying not to think about Cassian or Morgana or the fact that I was falling for someone I could never have.
A knock on the door interrupted my pity party.
"Go away, Lyra."
"It's not Lyra."
Cassian's voice. I quickly wiped my eyes and opened the door.
He stood there holding a bundle of fabric. "These are for you."
I took the bundle and unfolded it—a beautiful dress in deep blue, soft as water. Real shoes, not the worn ones I'd been given. A warm cloak.
"I don't understand," I said.
"Tomorrow night, there's a dinner for Morgana's arrival. You're coming."
"I'm a servant. I can't—"
"You're not a servant. Not anymore." His eyes were intense. "You're my guest. My equal. And I want everyone to know it."
"Why?"
"Because in two days, the Celestial Court is coming. And before they do, I want one night where you're not afraid. Where you're not a fallen goddess or a cursed girl." He touched my cheek gently. "I want one night where you're just Seraphine. And I want to spend it with you."
My throat was too tight to speak. I just nodded.
He smiled—that rare, real smile that made him look younger—and left.
I held the dress to my chest, my heart aching. Tomorrow night, I'd pretend to be someone I wasn't. Someone who belonged at fancy dinners, who could stand beside a duke without shame.
Someone who had a future.
But as I lay in bed that night, something woke me.
A voice in my head. Not my own. Female and ancient and furious.
"Two can play at manipulation, little sister."
Celestia.
I shot upright, looking around wildly. She wasn't in the room, but I could feel her presence like ice water in my veins.
"You think the duke will protect you? Let's see how protective he is when he learns the truth."
"What truth?" I whispered into the darkness.
Her laugh echoed in my mind. "That the curse doesn't just kill him if you fall in love. It kills everyone you love. Every single person who cares about you will die screaming when your divinity fully awakens."
No. No, that couldn't be true.
"Lyra, Theron, all the servants who've shown you kindness—dead. And the duke? He'll die first and worst, because he dared to touch a goddess." Her voice was poison-sweet. "So go ahead, little sister. Keep letting him care about you. Keep pretending you can have a normal life. And watch as everyone around you burns."
The presence vanished, leaving me shaking and sick.
I looked at the beautiful dress Cassian had given me.
Tomorrow night, he wanted to give me one perfect evening. One night of not being afraid.
But Celestia had just revealed the truth: by staying here, by letting people care about me, I was signing their death warrants.
The only way to save them was to leave.
Tonight.
Before anyone else I cared about could die because of me.
I grabbed a cloak and headed for the door, my heart breaking with every step.
But when I opened it, Cassian stood there, fully dressed despite the late hour.
"Going somewhere?" he asked quietly.
His eyes told me he knew exactly what I was planning.
And he wasn't going to let me go.