KAELEN STORMRIDER
Kaelen leaned back against the cold stone wall of his chambers, the weight of the chains around his wrists no longer a concern. They had become a mere inconvenience, a reminder of his helplessness—but not for long. Every visit from Seraphine stirred the same restless anger within him, though he'd learned to bury it, to let the frustration simmer beneath the surface. Today, he was determined to provoke her, to break through that unyielding ice she hid behind.
His eyes flicked toward the large, arched doorway as the heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. He didn't have to wait long. The door swung open with an air of finality, and there she was, the Queen of Druumari—Seraphine Shadewalker, her presence as commanding as the storm he had once ridden so freely.
She was dressed in one of her usual dark gowns, the deep purple fabric almost blending with the shadows that seemed to cling to her like a second skin, her signature moonstone and silver sculpted statement corset marking the deep crevice of her waist and the curve of her chest. Her silver-streaked hair flowed around her shoulders, ethereal as ever, her silver-freckled violet eyes cold and unwavering.
"Little prince," she greeted, her voice a smooth, low drawl that didn't mask the steel beneath. "I trust you're comfortable enough?"
He grinned, though there was no warmth in it. "Comfortable? In a prison? That's an interesting choice of words, Your Majesty."
Her gaze didn't waver as she stepped further into the room, her posture as regal and controlled as ever. He hated how she could stand before him, so composed, while his entire being seethed with anger and frustration. He had no leverage here, no way to fight back—but that didn't stop him from trying.
Seraphine's lips twitched at his words, but she didn't reply immediately. Instead, her eyes moved over him, scanning him like a hawk would its prey, calculating. "I've been asking you about Vyrdantia for days, and you've offered me nothing of value," she remarked, her tone cool but sharp, like the edge of a blade.
Kaelen's lips curled into a smirk, playing the game exactly as she wanted him to. "I'm not exactly the talking type, if you haven't noticed. Not unless you're willing to... earn it, that is."
He let the words hang in the air between them, testing her, hoping for the slightest crack in her armor. But Seraphine was unflappable. She merely raised an eyebrow, not even giving him the satisfaction of annoyance.
"Is that so?" she replied, her voice ice. "You think I haven't noticed your little games, little prince? You amuse yourself with this... flirtation, but it won't get you anywhere. I'm not here for your distractions."
Kaelen stepped toward her, the shadow chains rattling with his movement. "Oh, I think you're here for a little more than information, Your Majesty. You must get awfully lonely up there in your castle, dealing with all your spirits and your politics. A little... distraction might be just what you need."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she remained poised. "I've seen your type before. You're desperate, frustrated, but ultimately... predictable."
He let out a soft laugh, the sound dripping with sarcasm. "And here I thought you'd be more fun. But I guess a queen with a heart as cold as yours isn't interested in fun, is she?"
For a moment, there was silence. The tension between them was palpable, a strange current that crackled in the air, pulling them both in directions neither of them wanted to acknowledge. Kaelen could see it in the subtle shift of her stance, the way her lips tightened as she held herself together. Beneath her stoic exterior, something stirred.
"I don't have time for your childish games," Seraphine said, her voice suddenly hard, her gaze unwavering. "You might think your distractions will wear me down, but you're mistaken."
Kaelen closed the gap between them, leaning in just close enough that his breath brushed against her skin. "Maybe you're right," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "Maybe I'm just looking for a reaction... something to show me there's more to you than just... ice and shadows."
Seraphine's eyes flashed with a momentary, dangerous spark, but she remained silent. Kaelen could feel the power in her silence, the way it surrounded them like a storm waiting to strike. She wasn't like the others he'd met—those who could be cracked open with a few sharp words or a flirty smile. No, Seraphine Shadewalker was a different kind of force, one that didn't bend to anyone's will.
Still, Kaelen pressed on, stepping even closer, his face just inches from hers. "Tell me, Seraphine," he whispered, "what happens when the stoic queen cracks? When the perfect mask slips? Will you still be so unbothered?"
She didn't flinch, but he saw it—a flash of something—something so fleeting in her eyes, it was almost imperceptible. It wasn't anger, nor was it desire. It was... conflict. A brief flicker of hesitation, a moment where the cold walls she built around herself seemed to falter.
But it was gone before he could get a proper read on it, replaced with her usual calm.
"Don't waste your breath," she said, her voice as sharp as ever. "I won't be moved by your games."
Kaelen chuckled, stepping back and pacing around the room, letting the chains rattle with every step. "You're right," he said, his grin widening. "I'm not really the patient type anyway. But I'll keep trying. Because, despite what you say, I know there's more to you than the queen you pretend to be."
Seraphine watched him carefully, her expression still unreadable, though her posture had shifted slightly—more guarded, more tense. For the first time, Kaelen could see the strain beneath her calm.
The two of them circled each other in the small room, like predators sizing one another up. Every word, every glance, was a battle—a push and pull neither could fully control. Kaelen knew he wasn't going to get anything out of her today, but he didn't care. His taunts, his challenges—they were a way to chip away at her, to make her feel something, anything.
Seraphine didn't react to the bait, but Kaelen didn't expect her to. Not yet. He could feel the change in the air though, the subtle shift in her demeanor, and he was certain that one day, he would find a way through the walls she had so carefully constructed.
When she finally turned to leave, her back straight, her head held high, Kaelen called out to her one last time. "Don't think you're fooling me, Seraphine. You're not as cold as you think."
She paused in the doorway, her back still to him. "You don't know anything about me, Kaelen," she said, her voice like ice. "And you never will."
The door closed behind her with a resounding thud, leaving Kaelen standing alone in the dim chamber, the weight of her words lingering in the air.
He smirked to himself, leaning back against the stone wall once again.
Not yet, Seraphine. But soon.
He'd find a way to break through her.