Chapter 13: The Crown Wears Chains

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### **Chapter 14– "The Crown Wears Chains"**

*Point of View: Adrien Vellmont*

The morning light broke over Aurenstadt with the warmth of spring—but Adrien felt nothing.

He stood alone in the Crown Wing's garden, a sculpture of stillness among sculpted hedges. His attendants knew better than to interrupt him during these hours. The birdsong in the branches above was soft, tentative, as if unsure of its welcome.

Seraphina had stopped attending court two weeks ago.

She'd sent a letter with perfect handwriting and vague reasons—"poor health," "household affairs," "necessary reflection." All correct. All lies.

And yet… she had smiled the last time they met. Smiled in a way he had never seen her smile during their engagement. It haunted him more than anything.

"...You wear your burdens well, Adrien," came a voice behind him.

He turned. It was Lord Valein, his personal knight-commander, dressed in his usual dusk-gray uniform and sharp frown.

"You should be sleeping," Adrien said evenly. "The Senate debate kept you till past midnight."

"So did yours."

They walked in silence past rose-vined arches until they reached the silver fountain shaped like twin phoenixes—an ancestral gift from the southern states before they were absorbed into the Crown. Here, Adrien finally let his expression falter.

"She's changing," he said.

Valein didn't ask who. He didn't need to.

"She was always... proper. Cold. Predictable. I knew how to hurt her. How to ignore her. I thought that meant control." Adrien's voice dipped. "But now she moves like the sky shifted. Like she knows something the rest of us don't."

"You regret breaking the engagement."

"I regret assuming she would shatter."

That was the thing that scared him the most. Seraphina hadn't wept. Hadn't groveled. Hadn't begged. She had smiled—strangely—like someone who'd seen death and laughed in its face.

Adrien had spied on her, of course. The Crown had eyes everywhere. But the last three reports made no sense.

* *Lady Seraphina spoke to a disgraced apothecary who once created a Veil elixir.*

* *Lady Seraphina received a broken relic from the Northern Shrine.*

* *Lady Seraphina met with Saint Serene in private. The contents of their conversation remain unknown. However, the Saint appeared agitated upon departure.*

He wanted to believe she was making a fool of herself. That she was spiraling in grief or pride. But it didn't feel like that.

It felt… calculated.

As if every wound she suffered had only sharpened her.

"I don't trust Saint Serene," Adrien murmured. "Never have."

Valein blinked. "She's the highest sanctified being in the continent. To say that aloud could be considered—"

"Treason," Adrien finished. "Yes. I know."

He pressed a hand to the edge of the phoenix fountain, watching ripples distort his reflection.

"She told me once that power born from piety is cleaner than power born from fear. And yet everything she does reeks of fear. As if something is slipping beyond her reach."

Valein hesitated. "Do you believe Lady Seraphina suspects something?"

Adrien's eyes narrowed.

"She knows."

A moment passed.

"Do you wish to protect her, Your Highness?" Valein asked. "Now that it may be too late?"

Adrien didn't answer at first. His jaw tightened. Somewhere, beneath all his training and calculations and centuries-old expectations, something more dangerous stirred.

Not guilt.

Not shame.

Desire.

Desire to watch her unravel the world she was cast aside from. Desire to see what she would become—freed from the leash he'd once thought she'd never escape.

"I think," Adrien said slowly, "I'm beginning to wonder what might happen… if the Saint is removed and the villainess is left standing."

Valein said nothing. But the tension in the garden thickened.

Above them, the phoenix fountain caught the sunlight—and for just a moment, the mirrored wings seemed ready to ignite.

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### END OF CHAPTER