Chapter 6 – Fractured Truths

The world hadn't settled. Not truly.

Even as the swirling vortex of darkness dissipated, leaving only the lingering scent of burning magic in the air, the ballroom remained unnervingly still. The lavish gold and ivory decor, once a testament to the Valcrest Estate's grandeur, now seemed insignificant against the weight of the moment.

Seraphina stood frozen, her pulse a drumbeat in her ears, her breaths uneven.

Kael's golden eyes met hers across the expanse of the room, a silent conversation passing between them—one she wasn't ready for.

The hush that had fallen over the ballroom broke into chaos. Gasps, whispers, and frantic murmurs filled the air as noble guests stumbled over themselves to put distance between them and the remnants of whatever dark power had just torn through their carefully curated world.

"By the gods," someone breathed.

"Did you see that?"

"What in the name of the heavens just happened?"

Seraphina's hands clenched into fists, grounding herself against the tide of panic. *Think. Process. Focus.*

Then, she felt it—a presence at her side.

Lysian.

He was close, too close, his fingers grazing her wrist as he murmured, "We need to leave. Now."

Seraphina tore her gaze from Kael, blinking up at Lysian. His usual composed features were tight with tension, silver eyes flickering with something dangerous.

"I—" she started, but then she saw the way his fingers curled slightly, as if he wanted to hold onto her but wasn't sure if he should.

And in that moment, she understood.

Lysian knew more than he was letting on.

Before she could press him, movement across the ballroom caught her attention.

Kael had straightened, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the remnants of the power that had just burst from him. He stepped forward, unbothered by the wary eyes fixed upon him.

And then, he was speaking, his voice steady, controlled. "My apologies," he said, though there wasn't an ounce of real regret in his tone. "A minor… disturbance."

Seraphina nearly scoffed. *Minor?*

But Kael wasn't looking at her now. He was looking at the hosts of the event, Lord and Lady Valcrest, who stood near the stage, visibly shaken.

Lady Valcrest clutched her husband's arm, her face pale. "What—what kind of magic was that?"

Kael offered a slow smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "An anomaly. Unfortunate, but nothing to be concerned about."

Nothing to be concerned about?

Seraphina's frustration surged. He was *lying*. And the way people seemed so desperate to accept that lie infuriated her. The room was filled with powerful individuals—mages, aristocrats tied to ancient bloodlines—yet no one dared challenge him.

No one but her.

"An anomaly?" she echoed, stepping forward. "That's what you're calling it?"

Kael turned his gaze back to her, unreadable, and for the briefest second, something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Relief?

"Would you call it something else?" he asked smoothly.

Seraphina held his stare, ignoring the weight of the eyes now on her. "I would call it *dangerous*."

Silence.

Then—

"The lady has a point," another voice cut in.

Seraphina turned just as a tall man in dark robes strode forward. His presence was commanding, his angular face marked with the wisdom of someone who had seen far more than he let on.

Master Arion Velas.

The High Enchanter.

Even Kael's expression shifted slightly, his jaw tightening just a fraction.

Arion came to a stop before them, his sharp, piercing gaze moving between Kael and the spot where the vortex had formed. "What we just witnessed," he said, his voice calm but firm, "was no mere anomaly."

Kael didn't respond.

Arion tilted his head slightly. "There was power in that magic. Old power." His gaze flickered briefly to Seraphina, and something in his expression shifted—curiosity? Recognition?

Lysian, still beside her, stiffened.

Kael, on the other hand, only exhaled softly, as if this entire conversation was an inconvenience rather than a revelation. "Perhaps," he said at last. "But nothing that concerns you, Master Velas."

Arion hummed. "Everything concerning magic concerns me, Lord Draven."

The title was a reminder—Kael wasn't just some elusive figure in their world. He was the heir of House Draven, a bloodline feared as much as it was revered.

Tension crackled in the air.

Seraphina's mind raced. This was the moment to demand answers. To force Kael to explain what had just happened.

But before she could open her mouth—

"Enough."

Lord Valcrest, whose voice had been absent until now, stepped forward. His face was lined with worry, but his tone was steady. "Whatever just occurred, it is clear we are not equipped to understand it fully at this moment."

His gaze moved to Kael. "Lord Draven, I trust that you have matters under control?"

Kael inclined his head. "Of course."

Seraphina wanted to scream. *How does he do that? How does he command so much authority with just a few words?*

People were *accepting* this. Moving on, already eager to return to their safe, structured lives.

But Seraphina wasn't done.

She turned, pushing away from the suffocating air of the ballroom. Lysian caught her wrist again. "Seraphina—"

"I need air," she said sharply, pulling free.

She walked swiftly through the corridors of the estate, her mind spinning. She needed answers, needed to—

A presence behind her.

She whirled, expecting Lysian.

It wasn't.

Kael stood there instead, watching her with that infuriatingly composed expression.

"Running away?" he asked.

Seraphina glared. "Following me?"

Kael's lips twitched. "You make it sound so sinister."

She crossed her arms. "What do you want, Kael?"

He was silent for a moment, then, softly—"The same thing you do."

She frowned. "And what is that?"

He stepped closer, his voice dipping lower. "The truth."

Something inside her twisted.

Kael exhaled, his gaze briefly flickering away. "You're right to question things. That magic tonight… it wasn't normal. It wasn't *supposed* to happen."

Seraphina's pulse quickened. "Then what *was* it?"

Kael hesitated. "Something ancient. Something tied to what we were."

That word. *Were.*

Past tense.

Seraphina swallowed hard. "I don't understand."

Kael studied her, and for the first time, he looked almost… weary.

"You will," he murmured.

A gust of wind swept through the corridor, sending a chill down Seraphina's spine.

Kael stepped back, his golden eyes lingering on hers for a moment longer before he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Seraphina remained where she was, her heart pounding.

She didn't know what Kael was hiding.

But she was starting to realize—

She wasn't ready for the answers.