Katerina's POV
I didn't sleep last night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Serena's face. That look of impossible recognition. Those words: That walk... those hands...
She knows. Or she suspects. Either way, I'm running out of time.
Which is why I'm standing outside Damien's private study at dawn, my heart pounding like a war drum, clutching documents that could either save me or destroy me completely.
I should run. I should take Lyssa and Marcus's escape plan and disappear into the Neutral Territories before Serena exposes me.
But my mother is dead. Adrian killed her. And I can't run away from that.
I knock on the heavy wooden door.
Enter. Damien's voice sounds rough, tired.
I push open the door and step into the room where I used to bring him tea during our brief, horrible marriage. He never drank it. Never even looked at me.
The study hasn't changed. Still filled with maps and military reports and the smell of old books and ink. But Damien has changed. He sits behind his desk looking like he hasn't slept in days, dark circles under his eyes, his jaw covered in stubble.
He looks up when I enter, and something flickers across his face. Relief? No, that doesn't make sense.
Lady Raven. He stands, and I notice his hand shake slightly before he steadies it. You came.
You doubted I would?
After last night... He trails off, studying me with those storm-gray eyes. You ran from the ballroom like demons were chasing you. I thought perhaps you'd reconsidered our arrangement.
Serena was chasing me, I want to say. Your former mistress who helped murder your wife is about to expose me, and everything will fall apart.
Instead, I move closer to his desk, placing the leather folder Marcus gave me onto the dark wood. I keep my promises, Your Highness.
Damien. His voice is quiet. When we're alone, call me Damien.
The request feels too intimate. Too dangerous. Like crossing a line I can never uncross.
But I need him to trust me.
Damien, I say, and watch his eyes darken at the sound of his name on my lips.
He clears his throat and gestures to the folder. This is your evidence?
Open it.
He does, spreading out the documents Marcus's network gathered over months. Financial records showing payments from Celestria to known bandits. Orders signed with Adrian's seal. Maps marking Eldermoor's weakest border points.
I watch Damien's face as he reads. Watch the shock turn to anger turn to cold, deadly rage.
He's funding attacks on my kingdom, Damien says, his voice like ice. Adrian is deliberately starting a war.
Not just any war. I lean over the desk, pointing to specific documents. Look at the timing. The attacks increase every time there's talk of peace negotiations. He's sabotaging any chance of stability between Eldermoor and Celestria.
Why? Damien's fist slams onto the desk, making me jump. What does he gain from war?
Power. The word tastes bitter. War makes people desperate. Desperate people accept tyrants if they promise safety. Adrian plans to unite the three kingdoms under his rule, and he needs chaos to do it.
Damien looks at me, really looks at me, and I see the moment the pieces click together in his mind. The marriage. Three years ago. Princess Katerina was sent here to seal peace, but Adrian never wanted peace. He wanted—
He stops, his face going pale.
What? I ask, even though my heart is racing. What is it?
The letters. Damien's voice drops to barely a whisper. The evidence against Katerina. It all came from Adrian's court. His servants testified. His documents proved she was a traitor. He looks at me with horror dawning in his eyes. He framed his own sister to destroy the peace treaty.
I can barely breathe. He's figured it out. Three years too late, but he's figured it out.
You killed an innocent woman, I say softly. Not an accusation. Just truth.
I know. The words sound like they're being torn from his chest. I know, and I have to live with that every single day.
The grief in his voice nearly breaks me. Because this is what I wanted, isn't it? I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to drown in guilt.
But now that I'm watching it happen, it just feels... hollow.
Why are you bringing this to me? Damien asks suddenly, his eyes sharp despite the pain. What do you want, Lady Raven?
This is it. The moment I ask for what I came here to get.
Protection, I say. A position at court. Access to information and resources.
In exchange for intelligence about Adrian. It's not a question.
Yes.
And what else? He stands, moving around the desk until he's close enough that I can smell cedar and smoke on his skin. What are you really after?
Revenge. Justice. Understanding why you killed me.
I want to stop Adrian from destroying any more lives, I say instead. It's not the whole truth, but it's not a lie either.
Damien stares at me for a long moment. Then something in his expression shifts—softens—and it terrifies me more than his anger ever could.
You remind me of her, he says quietly. My wife. The way you stand. The way you don't back down even when you're afraid. She was like that too.
My throat closes. I can't speak. Can't move.
I'll give you one month, Damien continues. Prove your intelligence is accurate. Prove I can trust you. And then we'll discuss a permanent position as my advisor.
I should be celebrating. This is exactly what I wanted.
So why does it feel like I just stepped into a trap?
Thank you, I manage.
I turn to leave before I do something stupid like tell him the truth. But as I reach for the door, Damien speaks again.
Lady Raven? Be careful. If Adrian discovers you're working against him... He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't have to.
I slip out into the corridor, my mind spinning, and nearly crash into someone.
Whoa! Strong hands catch my shoulders. Careful there.
I look up into a face that's startlingly similar to Damien's but younger, kinder. Brown eyes instead of gray. A smile instead of shadows.
Lord Theron, I say, recognizing Damien's younger brother.
Lady Raven. He studies me with open curiosity. The mysterious woman who's captured my brother's attention. That's quite a feat.
I wouldn't say captured, I reply carefully.
No? Theron's smile turns knowing. He specifically ordered the servants to prepare the east wing guest chambers for you. Those haven't been used since... He trails off, and something flickers in his eyes. Since his wife lived there.
My heart stops. Those were my rooms. My chambers where I cried myself to sleep every night.
I should go, I whisper.
But Theron doesn't move. Instead, he glances down the corridor to make sure we're alone, then leans closer, his voice dropping to something urgent and serious.
My brother hasn't let anyone close since his wife died, he says quietly. Not truly close. He blames himself for her death, you know. It's destroying him from the inside.
Why are you telling me this? I ask.
Theron's eyes search mine, and for a moment I see real concern there. Real worry for his brother.
Because I can see the way he looks at you already, he whispers. And I need you to understand something, Lady Raven.
He pauses, making sure I'm listening.
Be careful with him. He's more fragile than he looks.