Seraphina's POV
"You."
The word rips from my throat like a scream. Because suddenly, everything makes sense.
Morgana. Sweet, gentle Morgana who comforted me after the invasion. Who brought me tea and told me stories. Who stayed by my side for five years.
She was the traitor all along.
"Me," Morgana agrees cheerfully, twirling her knife. The slave brand on her neck pulses with dark magic, connecting her to the King. "Surprised? You shouldn't be. I was never very good at hiding what I am."
"You were my friend!" My voice cracks. "I trusted you!"
"I know. It was almost too easy." She sighs dramatically. "You were so desperate for connection, so lonely. You told me everything. Every secret, every fear, every plan."
My stomach drops. "The resistance. I told you about Damien's messages—"
"And I told the King immediately. How do you think we knew exactly when to attack your wedding?" Morgana's smile is poison-sweet. "You helped us plan your own assassination, princess. You really should be more careful who you trust."
Rage explodes through me, hot and wild. My golden magic flares, ready to strike.
"Seraphina, don't!" Caspian grabs my arm. "Look at her neck. That brand—she's a slave. The King controls her."
"So?" I snap. "She still chose to betray my family!"
"Did I?" Morgana tilts her head mockingly. "Or did the King promise to spare my little sister if I cooperated? Tell me, princess—what would YOU do to save your brother?"
I freeze. Because I know exactly what I'd do. I just watched my father sacrifice himself to save Lucian.
"Don't try to make me sympathize with you," I say, but my voice wavers.
"I'm not. I'm just explaining why you're about to lose." Morgana's expression hardens. "The King owns me, body and soul. When he gives an order, I obey. And right now, he's ordering me to take you alive."
She lunges faster than I can track.
Caspian intercepts her, his sword meeting her knife with a clash of steel. They move in a blur of strikes and parries, too fast to follow.
"Elena, get them out!" Caspian shouts, pushing Morgana back.
"Not leaving you!" I argue.
"You have to!" He blocks another attack. "The King wants you specifically. If you stay, everything we just fought for means nothing!"
He's right. I hate it, but he's right.
"This way!" Elena grabs my arm and Lucian's, pulling us toward a side passage.
Behind us, I hear Morgana laugh. "Run all you want, princess! There's nowhere in this palace the King can't find you!"
We sprint through corridors, taking turns at random. Elena leads us deeper into the palace, away from the King's chamber.
"Where are we going?" Lucian gasps. He's still weak from the ritual.
"Somewhere even the King doesn't know about," Elena replies. "An old escape route from the first war. The prince showed it to me years ago."
"Caspian knows secret passages?" I pant.
"The prince knows everything about this palace. He's been planning an escape for years." Elena glances at me. "For himself and the people he could save when the time came."
My chest tightens. Caspian was planning to run? To leave his father?
We burst through a hidden door into a narrow stone tunnel. Elena slams it shut and bars it with a heavy beam.
"That won't hold long," she says. "Keep moving."
The tunnel is dark and smells like old water. Our footsteps echo weirdly. Lucian stumbles, and I catch him.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "This is my fault. I let them use me—"
"Stop." I squeeze his hand. "You were tortured and manipulated. None of this is your fault."
"Your father didn't think so. He sacrificed himself to fix what I broke—"
"He sacrificed himself because he loved you. Because that's what parents do."
Tears stream down Lucian's face, but we don't have time to stop. Behind us, I hear pounding on the tunnel door.
"They found us already," Elena mutters. "Move faster!"
We run harder. The tunnel slopes downward, getting colder. Finally, we emerge into a huge underground chamber.
And I stop dead.
Because this chamber is filled with magical artifacts. Hundreds of them, glowing with different colored lights. And in the center, suspended in a beam of pure white light, is something that makes my blood run cold.
A crown. My mother's crown. The one I saw fall off her head the night she died.
"What is this place?" I breathe.
"The King's vault," Elena says grimly. "Where he keeps everything he's stolen over the years."
I walk toward the crown like I'm in a trance. Up close, I can see it's not just suspended in light—it's trapped. Locked in some kind of magical prison.
"Don't touch it!" Elena warns. "The King has wards on everything down here—"
Too late. My hand closes around the crown.
Light explodes through the chamber. Not painful—familiar. Warm. Like my mother's hugs.
And then I hear her voice, clear as day.
"Seraphina. My darling girl. If you're hearing this, I'm already gone. But I left you a message. A truth you need to know."
"Mom?" I whisper, tears blurring my vision.
"The invasion wasn't random. The King didn't attack us for territory or power. He attacked because of a prophecy. One that said the union of Aldric and Thorne bloodlines would create a magic powerful enough to destroy him."
My heart stops. "What?"
"He arranged everything. The invasion. Your marriage to Caspian. All of it was designed to control the prophecy. To make sure when you and Caspian bonded, he could harness your combined power for himself."
I stagger backward. "No. That can't be—"
"But the prophecy has a second part," my mother's voice continues. "The bonded pair will either save both kingdoms or destroy them. The choice is yours, Seraphina. Trust your husband. He's the key to everything."
The light fades. The crown falls silent.
I stand there, shaking, trying to process what I just heard.
"The King planned our marriage from the beginning," I say slowly. "He wanted us to bond so he could steal our power."
"But he didn't count on you actually falling for each other," Elena says quietly. "That's real. Your bond is real."
"How do you know?"
"Because bonded magic can't be forced. It only works when both people choose it freely." Elena looks at me seriously. "You chose Caspian. He chose you. That changes everything."
Lucian suddenly gasps. "The vault. Father said to find the truth in the vault beneath the throne room. This must be it!"
"But what truth?" I look around desperately. "There are hundreds of artifacts here—"
"Look for something that doesn't belong," Elena suggests. "Something that stands out."
I scan the chamber, my eyes moving over stolen paintings, magical weapons, ancient books—
And then I see it.
A mirror. Simple and unadorned, nothing special about it except for one thing.
It's showing a reflection that isn't real.
In the mirror, I see a room I don't recognize. And in that room, standing very much alive, is someone I thought was dead.
King Aldric Thorne.
The REAL King Aldric Thorne.
Not the monster upstairs wearing his face.
"Oh no," Elena breathes, seeing it too. "That's not possible."
"What's not possible?" Lucian asks.
I can't speak. Can't breathe. Because I understand now.
"The thing upstairs," I whisper. "The monster we've been fighting. It's not Caspian's father at all."
"Then what is it?" Elena demands.
The mirror ripples, and suddenly the real King Aldric is looking right at us. His eyes are desperate, pleading.
His mouth moves, forming words I can read even without sound.
Help me. Please. He's taken everything. My body. My kingdom. My son.
"Who?" I ask the mirror. "Who took you?"
The King's expression twists in horror. He points behind him, and I see a shadow moving in his cell.
A shadow with too many faces. Too many screaming souls.
And at the center of those faces, one I recognize.
My own father.
Not his ghost. Not his soul freed and at peace.
His corrupted, twisted, ALIVE soul—merged with hundreds of others to create the monster wearing the King's body.
"Father?" I whisper in horror.
The shadow in the mirror smiles with my father's face.
And I hear
his voice, distorted and wrong, echo through the vault:
"Hello, daughter. Time to come home."