The Gilded Staircase

The morning sun cast soft beams into the hallway as Lucien opened the door to find Seraphine standing before him—dressed like a dream spun from silk and old love songs. Her gown shimmered, as if threaded with stardust. Her smile was soft, mysterious.

"Let's go somewhere," she said.

Lucien hesitated, only for a breath. Then he followed her, barefoot and half-awake, down the hall and up the staircase he was once warned never to touch.

The upstairs was nothing like the rest of the Glass Tomb.

There were no doors. Only an endless hall of light. The floors gleamed with marble veined in gold, and diamonds dusted the chandeliers like fallen stars. There were no windows, yet it shimmered with brilliance—like the house had swallowed the sun.

Lucien stopped walking. His breath caught.

"This place…" he whispered.

Seraphine turned slowly. She held something in her hand—glistening, perfect.

"Take it," she said.

Lucien stepped forward, and she dropped a large diamond into his palm. It was cool, heavy. Before he could speak, another identical diamond bloomed where the first had been. The same, again and again.

"The treasures never end," she said with a tilt of her head. "The house provides. Always. But it takes, too."

He looked down at the diamond, then at her.

"And if I wanted to leave?" he asked, voice barely audible.

She smiled. Not sadly. Not cruelly. Just… Seraphine.

"You can't."

He stiffened.

"Unless..." she continued, her eyes locking with his. "Unless you kill me. The house will set you free. Only then."

Silence.

Lucien didn't speak.

Seraphine turned from him, her fingers dancing across the golden railing.

"If you wish to take anything with you—the wealth, the power—you'll need to find a new guardian. Someone pure. Someone untainted. Someone without greed."

She looked over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. "But you won't. Because no such soul exists. And besides... I chose you."

Lucien felt the weight of the diamond grow heavier in his hand.

He wasn't sure if it was fear. Or guilt. Or something deeper beginning to bloom in the place he swore was only hollow.

Lucien's fingers clenched around the diamond. Its edges were sharp. Cold. Too perfect.

He didn't speak at first. Just watched her—the way she moved like the house belonged to her bones, the way her gaze lingered just long enough to make him wonder what she already knew.

"You want me to kill you?" he asked finally, his voice low.

Seraphine tilted her head. Her smile never wavered.

"I want to know if you'd even consider it," she replied. "That's what matters."

He took a slow breath. "What happens if I don't?"

"Then you stay."Her voice was soft, playful. "Forever."

Lucien looked around—at the endless wealth, at the whispering silence of the Tomb, at the stairs that didn't lead anywhere but further into gold and grief.

He was here for this, once. The wealth. The secrets. The impossible house. But now—

Now he wasn't sure what he wanted anymore.

To escape? Yes.To live? Absolutely.To leave her?

He looked at her then—really looked. The way the soft light kissed her collarbone, the way her gown shimmered like the inside of a dream.

He didn't love her.Not yet.But he needed her. Like she was the map and the storm both.

"…I don't want the treasure anymore," he said finally.

Seraph's eyes flashed—just for a moment. A flicker. A test passed? Or failed?

"Then what do you want, Vale?" she asked, stepping closer, slow like a question with no answer.

He reached for her—not greedily, but gently—and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I want out," he said. "But not without you."

A silence followed, thick like honey left too long in the jar. Then she smiled.

He didn't know what it meant.

She turned her back to him and walked toward the end of the hall, her voice echoing like a song caught in crystal.

"Then let's see how long that feeling lasts…"