The heavy iron doors of Varian's private chambers groaned shut behind them, the sound echoing through the cavernous space like a death knell. Sera's bare feet slipped slightly on the polished obsidian floor as Varian dragged her forward, her toes leaving smears of blood from the cuts she'd gotten on the shattered marble of the throne room.
The chamber was a study in contradictions - as brutal as the man who owned it. Black marble veined with gold stretched from floor to ceiling, interrupted only by towering bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes and what appeared to be... weapons. So many weapons. A collection that would make any conqueror weep with envy.
"Kneel."
Varian's voice was deceptively soft, the way a blade was soft before it sliced flesh. He stood by an ornate fireplace where flames licked hungrily at a fresh log, the glow painting his sharp features in flickering amber.
Sera lifted her chin. "I'd rather stand."
A slow smile curved his lips as he poured wine into a goblet - not gold as she'd expected, but simple steel, the kind carried by soldiers on campaign. The deep red liquid caught the firelight like blood.
"Still defiant." He took a measured sip. "Your father had that same stubbornness. Right before I separated his head from his shoulders."
The casual cruelty of his words struck like a physical blow. Sera's hands clenched into fists, her nails biting into her palms hard enough to draw blood. The memory of that pyre - of watching her father's body burn from her cell window - rose unbidden.
"You're lying," she spat. "I saw the flames myself."
Varian set down the goblet with deliberate care. "Did you see his face?" He moved to a carved ebony desk, his fingers trailing over the polished surface. "Flames distort, princess. What burns could have been anyone."
From a drawer, he withdrew a folded parchment sealed with familiar blue wax - her house sigil. When he tossed it at her feet, the wax cracked like a breaking heart.
"Read it," he commanded.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up, the parchment suddenly heavy as a tombstone. The elegant script - her cousin Elric's hand - blurred before her eyes:
*Your Highness,
By dawn's light, the eastern gates will be secured for Emperor Dainthar's forces. In exchange for our cooperation, Houses Velarys and Montfort will be spared. Forgive us, but survival demands difficult choices. When you stand before the gods, remember - it was your stubbornness that forced our hands.*
The words dissolved into meaningless shapes as her vision tunneled. The parchment slipped from nerveless fingers.
"Three chests of gold," Varian murmured, coming to stand so close she could see the flecks of silver in his storm-gray eyes. "That's what your blood was worth to them." His fingers traced the column of her throat, coming to rest over her hammering pulse. "The only person in this palace who hasn't betrayed you..." His thumb pressed just hard enough to make her gasp. "...is me."
Sera reacted without thought - her palm connected with his cheek in a crack that echoed off the marble walls.
For a heartbeat, the world stood still.
Then Varian laughed - a rich, dark sound that skittered down her spine like a lover's touch. "There's the fire I wanted to see." He caught her wrist, pulling her flush against him until she could feel every hard plane of his body. "Tell me, little queen... does it burn as hot everywhere?"
His free hand slid down her back, coming to rest just above the curve of her backside. The heat of him seeped through the thin fabric of her ruined gown, igniting a traitorous warmth low in her belly.
"You're disgusting," she breathed, hating how her voice shook.
"Yet you haven't tried to run." His grip tightened. "Haven't even reached for the dagger hidden in your skirts."
Ice flooded her veins.
Varian's smile turned wolfish as his hand slid between them, finding the blade strapped to her thigh with terrifying ease. "Did you really think I wouldn't search you?" He pressed the cold hilt into her palm, guiding the tip to his throat where his pulse beat steady and strong. "Go ahead," he dared, fingers tightening over hers. "Plunge it in. Take your revenge."
The dagger trembled in her grasp.
His other hand cupped her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You can't do it, can you?" His thumb traced her lower lip, pressing just hard enough to sting. "Because part of you knows the truth - you were made for this. For me."
Then his mouth was on hers, brutal and claiming. Sera bit down hard enough to taste blood, but he only groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping past her lips in a conquest that left her dizzy. When she gasped for air, he took advantage, nipping at her lower lip before soothing it with his tongue.
"Still want to kill me?" he rasped against her mouth.
Sera spat in his face.
Varian laughed, wiping the moisture from his cheek with one hand while the other yanked her closer. "Good girl."
The world tilted as he threw her onto the massive bed, following her down in a tangle of limbs and fury. His belt came free with a hiss of leather, and before Sera could react, he'd pinned her wrists above her head, binding them with the supple strap.
"Let me go!" She thrashed, but the restraint only tightened.
"Make me." Varian nipped at the sensitive skin below her ear, his free hand skating down her body with deliberate slowness. When his fingers found the ties of her bodice, he made quick work of them, the fabric parting to reveal the rapid rise and fall of her chest. "Tell me to stop," he challenged, his breath hot against her collarbone. "Use your words, princess."
His mouth closed over one peaked nipple through the thin fabric of her shift, and Sera arched against her will, a strangled sound escaping her throat.
"That's it," Varian murmured against her skin, his hand sliding higher up her thigh. "Let me hear you."
His fingers found the slit in her skirts, tracing higher, higher—
A frantic pounding at the door shattered the moment.
"Your Majesty!" A guard's panicked voice. "The rebels—they're burning the western gate!"
Varian's head snapped up, eyes blazing. For a heartbeat, Sera thought he might ignore the intrusion. Then he was off her in one fluid motion, straightening his tunic with sharp, angry movements.
At the door, he paused, his gaze locking onto hers with terrifying intensity. "You have until dawn to stop them." The words were ice and steel. "Or I'll slaughter every last one."
The door slammed behind him, leaving Sera trembling amidst the ruins of her pride, her body still humming from his touch.
Somewhere beyond the palace walls, her people were fighting.
And she had to choose—their lives, or her own shattered dignity.