A Shadow in the Night

Kaelith had spent his life stalking enemies across battlefields. Tonight, he hunted his own wife.

Seraphine was careful. She did not move openly, did not sneak through the halls like some reckless spy. Instead, she acted as if nothing had changed—calm, measured, every glance and step perfectly controlled.

But Kaelith saw the difference.

She did not linger in the grand hall that evening. She spoke little at supper, excused herself early, and retired to her chambers without fuss.

It was a performance.

And he would not be fooled.

The Chase Begins

Kaelith waited an hour before slipping from his own chambers, dressed in dark clothes, his sword strapped to his back.

The corridors were quiet, the torches burning low. He moved like a shadow, avoiding the guards' patrols, following the path he knew she would take.

When he reached the outer hall, he saw it—a figure in a cloak, moving swiftly toward the servant's passage.

Seraphine.

Kaelith followed, his steps soundless against the stone.

She moved with purpose, her path too certain to be a simple late-night walk.

Through the servant tunnels. Down the winding staircase.

Then—the old chapel.

Kaelith slipped behind a pillar, heart steady, breath slow.

Seraphine stepped inside.

She was not alone.

A hooded man stood in the shadows. Waiting.

Kaelith tightened his grip on his dagger. This was it.

The moment he learned the truth.

A Secret Unveiled?

Seraphine pulled back her hood, her voice low but urgent. "You shouldn't have come."

The man shifted. "You're in danger. The prince is watching you."

Kaelith's pulse pounded.

Seraphine exhaled sharply. "I know."

A pause.

Then, she whispered:

"But it's too late. He's already close."

Kaelith's blood ran cold.

She knew.

And now, there was no turning back.

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