Kaelen's POV
Sera hadn't even reached the garden gate when Kaelen's voice cut through the darkness.
Stop.
She froze. But didn't turn around.
Kaelen moved faster than he meant to, closing the distance. You can't just walk away after saying something like that.
I didn't make you do anything, Sera said, her back still to him. Your guilt is your own.
Is it? Kaelen grabbed her arm—gently, but firmly. Or did someone plant it there? Someone who knows exactly what happened five years ago?
Their eyes met in the moonlight. Hers blazing. His desperate.
Let. Go.
He didn't. Who are you really?
Maybe some things deserve to be dug up.
Answer me!
You want answers? Sera's voice turned sharp as broken glass. Fine. Let's talk about your perfect duty. Your flawless evidence. Your convenient conviction.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. The evidence against
Against who? Say her name. You've been dancing around it all night.
The evidence was examined by twelve judges
Say. Her. Name.
The command hit him like a slap.
Princess Cassia, he said finally, the name tasting like ash. Princess Cassia Valordane. Are you happy now?
No. Sera stepped closer, voice deadly quiet. I'm not happy. I'll never be happy. Because five years ago, someone was convicted on evidence so perfectly arranged it was suspicious. But nobody questioned it. Nobody asked why weapons would be left so obviously in royal quarters. Why coup plans would be written in the princess's own handwriting and left where guards could find them.
Kaelen's heart pounded. The witnesses
Were paid. Or threatened. Or both.
You can't know that
Can't I? Tell me, Duke Nightraven. When you reviewed that case, and I know you did—did you ever wonder why everything lined up too perfectly?
He had. God help him, he had.
The princess had motive, Kaelen said weakly. Her brother was crowned instead of her
She loved her brother! She would have protected him with her life!
This wasn't just knowledge. This was personal.
How do you know what she felt? he demanded.
Sera laughed, bitter and broken. Because I know what it's like to be betrayed by the people who were supposed to love you. To be buried alive while everyone watches and does nothing.
The princess wasn't— Kaelen stopped. She was executed in the Crimson Catacombs. Sealed in.
The records say a lot of convenient things. They say she was guilty. They say justice was served. But you know what they don't say?
What?
They don't say how long it takes to suffocate in a coffin. How it feels to scratch at wood until your fingers bleed. How darkness crushes you until you can't remember what light looks like.
Kaelen felt the blood drain from his face. How do you—
I understand perfectly, Sera said, voice stronger now. I understand that five years ago, someone was convicted on fabricated evidence because it was politically convenient. I understand that following orders was easier than seeking truth.
That's not—
Isn't it? Tell me, when you read her sentence—did you sleep well that night? Or did you lie awake wondering if you'd made a terrible mistake?
Kaelen's hands trembled. Who are you talking about?
The question hung in the air like a blade.
Sera met his eyes directly. Her voice rang out clear and cold:
Princess Cassia Valordane.
The name echoed in the garden. Kaelen went very, very still.
The princess was guilty, he said. The evidence was overwhelming
Was it? Or did you never question it because doubt would have required courage?
I did my duty
You sent an innocent woman to suffocate in darkness because
Voices. Guards' voices.
Your Grace? Duke Nightraven, are you out here?
Sera's eyes widened. Without another word, she turned and ran.
Wait! Kaelen reached for her, but she was already gone—disappearing into the shadows.
He stood frozen as the guards approached.
Your Grace, is everything alright?
I'm fine. Return to your posts.
They obeyed.
Alone again, Kaelen stared at the spot where Sera had vanished. Her words replayed in his mind:
You sent an innocent woman to suffocate in darkness. Fabricated evidence. Following orders was easier than seeking truth.
He returned to his study like a man in a nightmare. Poured a drink he didn't taste. Sat at his desk.
The case file still lay open. Princess Cassia's portrait stared up at him—that desperate, innocent face.
Kaelen pulled out the original investigation reports he'd kept secretly for five years. Read them again with Sera's accusations ringing in his ears.
The witnesses had all disappeared within months. The weapons had been new, barely used. The handwriting analysis had been done by a single expert—who'd been paid a fortune and retired immediately after.
He'd seen these inconsistencies before. But he'd told himself he was being paranoid.
What if he hadn't been wrong?
What if he'd condemned an innocent woman?
Kaelen worked through the night. Building a timeline. Checking facts. And with each page, his horror grew.
Dawn found him still at his desk.
There was a knock. Viktor entered without waiting.
You look terrible, Viktor said.
I might have killed an innocent woman.
Viktor went still. Cassia?
Lady Sera knows things. She spoke about the trial like she lived it.
Viktor moved to the window. If Princess Cassia was innocent, then who framed her?
That's what I need to find out. Discreetly. If this was a conspiracy
Then the people who did it are still in power, Viktor finished grimly. And they'll kill anyone who gets too close.
A messenger burst through the door, face pale.
Your Grace! Lord Aldwin—the noble Lady Sera warned last night
Kaelen's blood turned to ice. What about him?
Dead, Your Grace. They're calling it suicide.
The messenger handed him a note.
Kaelen read it, and the world tilted.
She was right. They're killing us all. Find the truth before
The handwriting cut off mid-sentence. Bloodstained.
Viktor moved to Kaelen's side. Orders?
But Kaelen couldn't speak. Because on his desk, someone had placed a single white rose while he'd been distracted.
Fresh. Perfect. With a note in handwriting he recognized from five-year-old trial documents:
You asked if I see a monster or someone worthy of a second chance. Come to the Crimson Catacombs at midnight. Come alone. And I'll show you who I really am.
The Ghost You Helped Create