Chapter 55 – Shadows in the Crown

The first light of dawn crept through the heavy drapes, casting long golden streaks across the study's floor. The fire had burned low, its embers glowing faintly, barely enough to push back the cold that lingered in the air.

Seraphina sat perched on the edge of the desk, her arms folded across her chest. The weight of the revelation from the night before had not lessened. If anything, it had settled deeper, curling around her thoughts like an unshakable shadow.

Across from her, Adrian stood unmoving, his hands braced against the desk's surface. He had not spoken since his final words last night, but she could see the way tension coiled through him, the way his fingers curled slightly, as if resisting the urge to break something.

She finally broke the silence.

"King Aldric," she murmured, the name tasting different now, sharp and bitter. "The man who made you his hound was one of the architects of your mother's murder."

Adrian's fingers tapped once against the polished wood. "He made me his weapon," he corrected. "And I sharpened myself on the blade he placed in my hands."

The words sent a shiver through her, though she did not let it show. She had always known Adrian's loyalty to the king was not without calculation, but now, there was no longer even the pretense of obligation. He had spent years serving a man who had betrayed his very blood.

And that betrayal had only been the beginning.

Seraphina inhaled deeply, choosing her next words carefully. "So what happens now?"

Adrian finally turned his gaze toward her. His expression was unreadable, but his storm-gray eyes burned with something dark and resolute. "Laurent falls first," he said. "But make no mistake—this doesn't end with him. Aldric won't allow us to rip out one of his roots without retribution."

She studied him, searching for the cracks beneath his iron control. "And do you intend to sit idly and wait for that retribution?"

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "I intend to control the battlefield before it reaches us."

The firelight flickered between them, illuminating the sharp lines of his face, the tension in his jaw.

Seraphina tilted her head. "Your father," she said, watching for his reaction. "Do you think he did it willingly?"

Adrian's expression darkened. "Does it matter?"

She didn't look away. "It matters to you."

His jaw tightened, but he did not deny it. "If he was coerced, it means the rot runs even deeper than we thought. If he did it willingly…" His voice trailed off, the unspoken conclusion hanging heavy between them.

There was a long silence before she shifted the subject. "Edric is preparing the final stage of the plan. By tomorrow night, the city will be in chaos. We move against Laurent at dawn."

Adrian hummed in approval, his mind still spinning with the weight of revelations. But then he took a step closer, the air between them thinning. "And you?"

She arched a brow. "What about me?"

"You're the one who said we need to accelerate the plan. You're the one pushing this forward." His voice lowered, a quiet intensity lacing his words. "What is it that you want, Seraphina?"

The question struck deeper than she expected.

Revenge. Justice. The truth.

But what did she want beyond that?

She lifted her chin. "I want freedom."

Adrian studied her, something unreadable flickering behind his expression. "And if freedom comes in the form of a crown?"

She stilled. His words from before resurfaced—his declaration that he would make her his queen.

Was it still just strategy? Or had something shifted?

Seraphina forced herself to meet his gaze. "I have never wanted a crown."

Adrian leaned in slightly, his presence pressing against the space between them. "Then you should decide what it is you do want."

Her breath caught.

The weight of his stare, the heat between them—it was different now. It wasn't just battle plans and cold calculations anymore. Something unspoken crackled between them, something that neither of them had dared to name.

Slowly, deliberately, Adrian reached up, brushing his knuckles along her jaw. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a shiver through her.

"Seraphina," he murmured, his voice lower now, more intimate.

She swallowed, her pulse quickening. "What are you doing?"

His lips curled slightly, though there was no humor in it. "You tell me."

He was testing her. Or perhaps testing himself.

She could step away. She could break the moment, push him back into the realm of strategy and war.

But she didn't.

Instead, she let her fingers curl around the fabric of his coat, just lightly, barely noticeable.

It was enough.

Adrian exhaled sharply, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his expression before he stepped back, breaking the contact. His control snapped back into place like a blade sliding into its sheath.

A knock at the door shattered the moment entirely.

Seraphina took a steadying breath as Adrian turned toward the entrance.

The door swung open, revealing Edric. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something sharp and urgent.

"We have a problem," he said.

Seraphina straightened. "What is it?"

Edric glanced between them before speaking. "Laurent knows. Someone tipped him off."

Adrian's expression turned to ice. "How much does he know?"

Edric's jaw clenched. "Enough to start making his own moves."

A chill settled over the room.

Seraphina's mind raced. If Laurent had been warned, it meant their timeline was no longer theirs to control. They had planned for the advantage of surprise, but now—

"We need to move," she said decisively. "Tonight."

Adrian nodded, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his gaze when it met hers—something that had not been there before.

It wasn't just war now.

It was something else entirely.

And neither of them was ready to name it.