Test her strength

Chapter 24

It took a while for Seraphina's body temperature to return to normal. Luckily, Rhydian hadn't noticed. Just before he touched her, she had pulled away—barely in time. If she had been even a second slower, he would have felt how hot her skin was. Dorian had warned her it was a side effect of the poison.

"Has His Majesty returned?" she asked Irene once she finished bathing. The air had cooled, and the sky outside had darkened past twilight, yet there was still no sign of him. She frowned, her thoughts drifting to where he might have gone.

"No, Your Highness," Irene replied, bowing. "He left with Edmund earlier. He didn't say where they were going."

Her answer was polite, but something about it made Seraphina pause. She shook the thought away, recalling what the other maids had told her when Irene had taken a day off.

"How is your mother's health?" she asked, her voice softening.

Irene froze, staring at her as if she had just heard something impossible.

"Your Highness... you're asking about my mother?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

"Yes," Seraphina answered with a slight frown. "The other maids told me she was unwell. Is she better?"

Irene's gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders slumping. "She... she doesn't have much time left," she admitted, her voice cracking. Tears welled up in her eyes, and for the first time, Seraphina saw her like this—vulnerable, breaking apart.

"I might be able to help. I can't heal every illness, but I can try," Seraphina offered, her voice deliberately gentle. She wasn't used to kindness, to warmth—but surprisingly, it felt... nice.

Irene's head snapped up, her wide, teary eyes glistening with disbelief. "Your Highness..." Her voice trembled, and the tears that had merely welled up began to spill.

Seraphina stiffened. Why was she crying even harder? Shouldn't she be happy that there was hope?

"Wait—did I say something wrong?" she asked, caught off guard.

Irene quickly shook her head. "No, Your Highness. I just... I don't know how to thank you. You've given me hope when I thought there was none."

Seraphina shifted uncomfortably, unused to such gratitude. "If you're facing any difficulties, don't hesitate to ask me for help," she said, keeping her tone casual. She knew what helplessness felt like—wanting, desperately, to do something but being powerless. After all, she had watched her parents die right in front of her, unable to save them.

Her fists clenched at the memory, hatred bubbling under her skin.

Irene hesitated for a moment before nodding quickly. "I will, Your Highness. Thank you."

"Where is your hometown?" Seraphina asked.

"It's close to the Dragon Kingdom," Irene replied, her voice steadier now.

"Then we'll leave tomorrow," Seraphina said, standing up. "I'll inform Rhydian when he returns."

Irene's eyes widened in shock. "Your Highness, you don't have to—"

"It's decided," Seraphina interrupted firmly. "We'll go."

Irene opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it, bowing instead. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Seraphina nodded, though her mind had already wandered back to Rhydian. Where had he gone? Why did it feel like something wasn't right?

"Your Highness, His Majesty is back. I hear him coming," Irene said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

Seraphina turned to her abruptly. She could hear from that far? As a human?

"How did you know?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I have really good hearing," Irene replied with an innocent smile.

Before Seraphina could say another word, the door flew open, slamming against the wall.

Rhydian walked in, his expression colder than usual. The air around him was heavier, charged with something dark and unreadable.

Before she could react, he closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist. His grip was firm—not painful, but unyielding.

"What happened?" she asked sharply, not pulling away.

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned and pulled her toward the door, his steps quick and purposeful.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, struggling to keep up. Her heart picked up speed—not exactly in fear, but something about his silence, the tension in his movements, unsettled her.

"Your sister told me you're the only one who can help me," he said flatly, as if he hadn't just said the most absurd thing.

Seraphina froze mid-step. "What?"

He kept walking.

She yanked her wrist free, forcing him to stop. He turned his head slowly, his piercing gaze locking onto hers.

"My sister?" she repeated, her voice sharper now. "You met Freya?"

His lips curved into a smirk. Damn him. Why did he have to look so devastatingly handsome with that smirk? Why did she always notice these stupid little details about him?

"She told me an interesting story," he said, stepping closer.

"What story?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.

He didn't answer directly. "We made a deal. In exchange for your help retrieving my mother from the Dragon Kingdom, I'll spare your life."

Her breath caught. "...Spare my life?"

His smirk widened. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice, his face far too close for her sanity. "Yes. Don't look so surprised. You came here to kill me, didn't you?"

Her pulse stuttered. Jerk. So he knew. He had known all along. Or had Freya told him? No, that didn't make sense—why would she?

She met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. "If you knew, why haven't you killed me already?" she shot back.

His head tilted, and the smirk playing on his lips turned almost amused. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, I wanted to see what you'd do. Watching you try to act innocent has been... entertaining."

Her jaw clenched. She hated the way he was looking at her, like he was three steps ahead, like she was just another piece in a game he was playing for his amusement.

"Jerk," she muttered, swinging her fist toward him—but he caught it effortlessly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he murmured, clearly enjoying her frustration. "Now, are you done arguing? Or do I need to drag you along again?"

She had a hundred questions—why the hell would Freya make such a deal? Why did he think she needed her life spared? Did he think she was weak?

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about," she said stubbornly.

"Fine," he said, stepping even closer—so close she could feel the warmth radiating from him. His next words were slow, deliberate. "I want to test your strength. If you're going to help me, I need to know you can handle it. Or is that too much for you, Seraphina?"

He was baiting her. She could see it in his eyes. And yet, her pride refused to back down.

"Lead the way, Your Majesty," she said smoothly, her lips curving into a smirk of her own.

His eyes darkened, amusement flickering in their depths. "Good. Try to keep up."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her no choice but to follow.

Her blood boiled at his arrogance, but deep down, she hated that his closeness had scrambled her thoughts. Hated that she had noticed the warmth of his hand when he grabbed her.

Shoving the feeling away, she steeled herself. She wasn't doing this for him. She was doing this to prove that she was not as predictable as he thought.