Chapter 10

One Month Later – Serpent Wing, Solvaris Empire

The heavy iron gates of Serpent Wing wide open.

Seris Thalren walked out, chin high, face calm. A few servants from her house waited near a black carriage with golden trim. They bowed as she approached.

She was free.

Not because she was proven innocent—there just wasn't enough proof she was guilty. Her house had pushed hard. The pressure from nobles, merchants, and old allies had grown too loud to ignore.

Asthia had no choice but to let her go.

Still, the air felt bitter.

Inside the Tower – Reth's Quarters

Reth stood by the window, watching the carriage roll away.

[System Notification]Subject Seris Thalren: Status – ReleasedLoyalty Sync: 21.5%

He didn't smile. He didn't frown. He just watched.

A soft knock came at his door.

He turned. It was Asthia's steward.

"She requested to see you," the steward said. "Princess refused. Said it would set the wrong tone."

Reth raised a brow. "What did she want?"

The steward hesitated. "She offered to buy your contract."

Reth blinked. "Buy… me?"

The steward nodded. "She named a high number. More than most officers. Princess still said no."

Reth looked back out the window.

Seris was getting into the carriage now. She paused for a second and looked back—toward the tower, toward him.

Then she stepped inside.

The door closed. The carriage rolled off.

He didn't wave.

He just stood there.

Quiet.

Still.

Then finally—he spoke.

"…That's new."

And he turned away from the window.

Later That Night – Asthia's Chambers

Reth knocked once and stepped in.

The room was warm. Candles lit. Wind from the balcony stirred the curtains.

Asthia was sitting on a couch with a glass of red wine in her hand. A bottle was open beside her.

She looked… relaxed.

Reth blinked. "You're drinking?"

Asthia looked over, raised her glass. "It's a good night."

Reth frowned. "Seris just got released. Isn't that bad for you?"

Asthia took a sip. "Not really."

"…You're smiling," he said.

"Am I?" She didn't stop smiling.

He walked in slowly, watching her. "You're acting like you won."

She shrugged. "Maybe I did."

Reth sat down across from her. Quiet for a moment.

Then leaned in slightly.

"This part of your plan too?" he asked. "Letting her go?"

Asthia didn't answer right away. Just stared at her wine.

Then softly said, "She's free. But she's not safe."

Reth studied her face.

"You framed her, didn't you?"

Asthia looked up. Calm. "Would you care if I did?"

He didn't answer.

Asthia studied him for a long moment.

Then, more quietly, "You don't call me Princess."

Reth met her gaze. "You know what I am. You don't need the title."

She tilted her head, lips twitching. "Everyone calls me that."

"You're not 'everyone,'" he said simply. "And I'm not here to flatter you."

That pause again.

Asthia looked at him—really looked—and said, "You're very different."

Reth said nothing.

She took a slow step forward. Not threatening. Not inviting. Just close.

"I can never tell what you're thinking. Not entirely. That makes you dangerous." Her voice dropped slightly. "More dangerous than half the courtiers whispering poison into each other's wine."

Still, Reth didn't respond.

Her lips curved faintly. "I haven't decided if I should reward that… or end it before it becomes a problem."

His tone was dry. "Maybe you could just try trusting me."

That made her laugh. A short, quiet thing. Almost bitter.

"Trust," she repeated. "In this palace? In this empire?"

She looked away.

Then turned back. "Sit."

Reth raised a brow. "Here?"

She patted the space beside her on the couch. "Not going to ask twice."

He sighed, stood up, and walked over. Sat beside her, leaving just enough space for comfort.

The balcony wind stirred again.

Asthia poured another glass, then stopped. Looked at the bottle.

Then looked at him.

"You never drink with me," she said.

"I don't drink with commanders."

"I'm not your commander tonight."

Reth opened his mouth to respond, but before a word could leave, Asthia moved.

Quick. Fluid.

She grabbed the wine bottle, swung it toward him—not like a strike, but like she'd done this before—and shoved the mouth of it against his lips.

"Don't resist," she said.

The bottle tilted.

Cold wine rushed in.

Reth choked once, then swallowed fast to keep from drowning.

One second passed.

Two.

Asthia watched him, eyes unreadable, lips barely parted.

He swallowed again.

The bottle emptied halfway before she finally pulled it back.

He coughed. Wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "The hell was that?"

Asthia didn't answer.

She just stared at him, bottle still loosely in her hand, wine sloshing at the bottom. For a second, Reth thought she was going to say something—maybe another smug remark.

But her lips barely moved.

Then her body swayed.

And without warning, she slumped forward, catching him off guard.

"Whoa—"

He reached out instinctively, arms catching her as she tipped toward him. Her weight hit his chest, head resting against his collarbone, hair tickling his jaw.

Reth froze.

She wasn't faking.

Her breathing had gone slow. Steady.

He glanced down. Her eyes were closed now. Expression calm. No sharpness, no calculation. Just the quiet exhaustion of someone who'd held the strings too tight for too long.

"…Seriously?" he muttered.

She didn't respond.

Didn't even twitch.

Reth let out a breath—half amused, half exasperated—and shifted slightly, adjusting her position so she didn't slide off. Her body curled unconsciously against his, light but warm. The wine bottle had rolled to the floor with a dull thud.

For a long moment, he didn't move.

Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached for the nearby blanket draped over the couch's arm. Slowly, carefully, he pulled it over her shoulders—tucking it gently around her without waking her.

"Princess Asthia," he said dryly. "Ruthless tactician. Can't hold her wine."

No answer, of course.

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PSB SSS